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#and yes sometimes you do need governments to help you
mariemariemaria · 4 months
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Does anybody else feel the waves of history crashing over them constantly and like they can't escape the generational trauma that permeates and poisons every interaction they have or do I just need to chill and have a drink lol
#'our day has come and we are here. we are alive here. we've built this place. we suffered and starved here.#we own not an acre of land we belong to it. the land of cú chullain and macha. ní muid 'hungry crocodiles'. we are full.#full of knowledge. and talent. and success.#full of drink. and drugs. and stories.#agus beautiful ceol. that spills on sundays. from the windows of ancient pubs like smoke#tá vóta agam. tá acht Gaeilge agam. agus táimid sa rialtas.#we are the landscape. we are the trees and the rivers and the mountains. an integral piece of someone else's infrastructure.#growing strong between cracks in the concrete.'#and whatever else seán an seanchaí said.....#would recommend his instagram. his posts always hit#ngl tho when men post stuff like this about ireland i always think...do you see the similarities between this and patriarchy tho?#but maybe im better off not knowing the answer#whatever!!! we will persevere!!! we will help one another and build trust and relations and improve no matter what governments say or do!!!#just like generations have been doing before us!!! and we who have benefited from our parents making this place better will work to make it#better for our children. who will make it better for theirs.#and maybe i need to stop shying away from difficult conversations. maybe we all do. and maybe then we'll be okay.#my thoughts on mental health + the north + my own personal experience is such a mish mash of several different things#im only truly starting to realise that it's all connected. yes i got depression because i was lonely and vulnerable. but also because of th#trauma my family's been through. and sometimes i feel so angry thinking about what certain family members have been through#and there has been too much silence surrounding it. but maybe i just have to feel the anger and sadness and allow myself to feel it#but continue reaching out and trying to talk and having cups of tea and walking my dog and making memories.#memories that aren't political or based on trauma. to get out of my head and realise that yes this was a terrible thing#but there's so many good things too. and the best thing i can do is to try to make life better for those who lived through the worst of it#and make society better for those who are too young to know any of it yet.#instagram is actually a tonic for me sometimes. would never get such taig specific posts on here like the one from seán#which is probably a good thing lol
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undiscovered-horizon · 6 months
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[It’s considered good etiquette to ask a man about his wife’s wellbeing. Except if the man in question is Dracule Mihawk.]
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Garp hates having to call Mihawk, mainly because of the warlord's attitude. Used to the usual "yes, sir!" of the Marines, a man with his own will and agenda is not something he entirely knows how to navigate. Especially since both of them know that the World Government needs the warlords more than they need the bureaucracy. And that doesn't exactly help in exercising power.
His attempts at diplomacy have burst into flames each time and today isn't going to be much different:
"How’s the missus?" Garp asks in the nicest tone he can force although he's aware that Mihawk knows how much the vice admiral hates asking for Dracule's assistance.
Mihawk only scoffs. "Are you calling just to spoil my mood or is there another reason for your impertinence?"
"I was just trying to-"
"Don't," he cuts him off in a stern voice. "If you have business with me, speak fast. If you're interested in my wife, I know where you live, Garp. I'd suggest losing your unwelcome nosiness before you lose something else."
Little did Garp know at the time but his little question was possibly the worst strategy he could think of. Dracule Mihawk is not like most men and the mere mention of his wife by acquaintances only enrages him. Work and private life do not ever mix. And he'll be damned if someone tries to breach that, even in the form of a courtesy. Therefore, the rest of the call was filled with openly insulting answers that were bold even for Mihawk. A veiled threat or two also found their way into their rather tense conversation.
You know he's done with Garp when he lets out a frustrated grunt. Sometimes you wonder if this grumpy, forever dissatisfied version of him is the only side of Mihawk his acquaintances know. Maybe he really is two men in the form of one.
He's sitting at his desk, thinking about something and not bothering to get up for now. Considering the fact that his hat is lying on the table and not on his head, Mihawk is probably not planning on going out anytime soon. Then again, judging by his spoiled mood, his homestay is a blessing for the first poor sods that would cross his path.
In slow steps, you stroll to his side, letting your hand brush through his hair. He doesn't say anything, only leans his head further towards you. The thing about Mihawk is that he loved to reject and decline but he never does so to you. No, in your case it's the opposite - he revels in allowing you whatever you want.
So intimidating and combative, yet soft and looking for intimacy. Truly, two men with the face of one.
"My mother used to say that each grey hair is one thing we worry about," you say quietly. "At this rate, love, your whole head will be white by noon."
"Your mother also says that milk goes sour because gnomes piss in it," he retorts. Yes, your mother and her strange folk beliefs... She's probably the only person Mihawk can force himself to be nice to despite his dislike.
His response earns a hearty laugh from you. Clear as day, you can see his posture relax as he listens to the music of your happiness. If he even thinks about the possibility of Garp or any other of his acquaintances hearing it, he might just get furious again.
"Well, nobody's perfect," you say between chuckles.
Then, Mihawk gently grabs your hand and lowers it to his face. With softness and passion that hardly befits a man of his infamy, he kisses the inside of your hand. "You seem to be doing so effortlessly."
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luveline · 30 days
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Hey my lovely, could i equest a blurb where reader seeks one of spencer's hugs and he's all soft and mushy about it!! I just think he'd give really warm hugs and want one so bad!
shy!reader + post!prison Spencer have a hug
Spencer understands why you might find him intimidating. He did go to prison for a few weeks, and even if the idea of his being a potential felon didn’t scare you, there’s nothing wrong with being nervous around the unknown. You’ve had a few more weeks to get to know the others on the team. He tries not to take it personally that you’re closer with some of them than you are him. 
Plus, you’re awfully shy. 
Spencer’s been trying to communicate that he’s an idiot. He was shy, once, and he tends to be shy about things now, too, even if he’s taken to hiding that. He hides a lot, these days. 
But things aren’t hopeless with you. You’re inarguably his best work friend now that Morgan’s not around, taking the desk next to his —through coincidence or insistence, he has no idea. 
“What flavour do you have today?” he asks. 
You show him your bag. The convenience store outside of work has the strangest sweets from all sorts of places. You’ve been bringing in a different bag each day, and you always share. “Today is apricot and peach ‘millions’,” you tell him, shaking the bright pink bag like a rattle. 
Inside, the millions bounce against each other like miniscule polystyrene balls but with a heavier weight. 
“Awesome!” he says, holding out his hand. “Please?” 
You rip the corner and tip a generous helping of candies into his palm, doing the same in your own hand. “Ready?” you ask. 
“Three, two, one.” 
You both tip your heads back at the same time. Apricot and peach are similar flavours, and Spencer can’t tell the difference when they’re both in play. He can also taste apple juice and the sharp citric acid flavour they put in every candy. 
He can’t tell if you like them. He quite enjoys it, will happily eat the leftovers if you’re not interested, but your attention isn’t on the candy when he looks up. You’re staring straight at him. 
“What?” he asks, perturbed. 
“Nothing, just. Had a rough morning. Thanks for trying the candy with me.” 
He frowns. “I’m sorry. Let me know if there’s something I can do to make you feel better. I can make you a cup of hot chocolate?” 
“Don’t worry about it.” 
Spencer’s sure that to an outsider, he and the team appear to travel to a hundred cities a month. In reality, cases aren’t as densely packed, especially with the government expanding their profiling teams, and the majority of Spencer’s day is spent answering emails and giving advice to agents, law enforcement, and his colleagues. He doesn’t see much of you (where you’re forced to work ViCAP calibration as newbies usually are, almost like a hazing) but he does take you that hot chocolate around lunch time. Just to make sure you have the option. 
It’s sometime past four PM when you appear again. 
“Hey,” he says, turning to you where you’re paused behind your desk chair, “you're finally done?” 
“Not yet. So many case files to transcribe, opinions to cross check, signatures and…” You wince. “It’s a lot. You already know.” 
“I don’t, actually. I only ever had to do ViCAP as punishment, and I was extremely well-behaved. For a while, anyway.” 
You hesitate with something heavy on the tip of your tongue. You’re like every profiler wherein your tells are self-identified and quelled, but you’re still so new, and Spencer’s an expert. You want to ask him for something, but you don’t think you’re allowed. If he presses the issue you’ll shut down, and if he offers you another cup of hot chocolate you’ll simply drink it without letting him in on the real secret. 
Spencer waits. 
“Spencer, you don’t have to say yes, just… You’re the nicest friend I have, and you always know what I need to hear. Um, I know you don’t like touching people and I wouldn’t ask you to if you don’t want to, but it’s been a really long time since someone hugged me, and…” Your voice gets quieter and quieter, until you’re whispering, and then fizzling out. 
“You want a hug?” he asks, surprised. 
“If that’s okay.” 
“I give really good hugs,” he warns, climbing from his chair immediately, arms opened, an unmissable invitation. “You’ll never get over it.” 
“Really?” 
He can’t believe you came to him specifically for a hug. He’s gonna lose his mind. Gentle, Spencer ushers you into his arms, head quick to duck down, his thumb on your shoulder. 
You could’ve asked anybody in the office for a hug. Penelope would have hugged your brains out. Emily, Unit Chief and secret sweetheart, would’ve taken you off of ViCAP and given you a loving pat on the back. But you didn’t ask Penelope or Emily, you asked him. 
“You don’t have to ask me first,” he says quietly. 
“You don’t like touching.” 
“That’s more to do with germs, and I’m not worried about yours,” he says. “Unless you’re about to tell me you have a headache.” 
“It’s like this pounding behind my eyes,” you say with a laugh. 
Spencer smiles, his mouth and nose to the side of your head. He gives you a good ten seconds of quiet, his palm warming your shoulder, before he murmurs, “Any better?” 
“You’re really warm,” you murmur back. 
Spencer resists the urge to squeeze you. “It's the oxytocin.”
“Or you’re just really, really warm.”
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muffinpink02 · 18 days
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Taking Your Crown
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Alexia has booked you for a special night.
Warning - smut, fingering, anal play, choking, strap, bdsm play, fluff & after care
‘Ping’ 
You heard a notification come up on your phone, you looked at the screen.
“Gold Package Booking’ 9pm - 9am Tonight”
You raised your eyebrows in surprise, this was the most expensive service you provided. You looked over the details, not that there really was much detail, there never was. Not in your line of work. 
You did look at the tick box that they had to fill out before submitting, their “wants and needs”. And surprisingly they had ticked many of the options. 
Foreplay (Yes), 
Penetration (Yes),
Giving (Yes),
Receiving (Yes),
Praise kink (Yes), 
Pain threshold - (High), 
Toys - (Yes),
Anal play (Yes), 
Air Restriction (Yes), 
Bondage (Yes), 
Orgasm denial (Yes), 
Sensory play (Yes), 
But what really made you smile was seeing that it was a woman who had booked you. You had women book you before but they weren't your most regular customers. Maybe 1 in 30 bookings would be a woman, but most of the time it was men, rich men. Business men, famous men, men in oil, men in tech, men in law, men in government, you had even had a Prince once.
But you never had sex with them, that wasn’t part of your services, not for the men. That was the ‘silver package’, The silver package included many things but nothing that involved you and the customer having any sexual intercourse. Not even kissing, you hardly really touched them. The ‘gold package’ was only for the ladies. And the only package that included sex. 
With the gold package she had the option to pick your outfit, and this particular woman had picked your personal favourite. It consisted of your leather thigh high boots, the heels stood just short of 6 inches. A fitted black leather corset, that showed off your breast perfectly. She requested for your hair to be tied back in a slicked back ponytail. 
You studied her safe words, her ‘do’s and don’ts’. This was always sent over beforehand so you didn't have to break character during your session, or constantly ask if she was okay, unless you felt you needed to. You began to get yourself ready for your night ahead, starting with a long hot shower. You couldn't help but be intrigued on who she was. The customers that booked you had to have money, you weren't cheap, and the company you worked with was a very high brow type of organisation. Only the rich and famous were able to be a member of your place of work, and sometimes not even all of them were allowed to join. It was a very exclusive club. You had to be somebody, and even then you weren't always guaranteed to be a member.
You had to book months in advance to see certain ‘workers’ and you were one of them, you were one of the best after all. Even, you didn't find out anything until that day, like the message you got this morning. Giving the customers the discretion they paid for.
After your shower you got yourself ready in the customer's desired outfit of choice. You got in your car and made your way to your destination, but not before covering yourself with your long brown trench coat of course. This view wasn't free. 
You pulled up to the gated fence. “Good evening, Miss Porsche.” The security guard who had been working there since even before you, smiled politely, opening the gates for you. ‘Miss Porsche’ wasn’t your name, he didn’t know your name, it’s what he called you as that was your car of choice. 
“Hey, Frank.” You nodded and smiled at him as you drove through the gates. You didn't know his name either, he just looked like a Frank and he never corrected you.
You drove up the pathway to the main entrance of the Victorian manor, parking your car in your usual spot.  You climbed the old wooden staircase, passing large golden floor length mirrors that draped the walls, mirrors that you had seen yourself in many times, in many different positions, from an array of sex parties.
You made your way to your room, you unlocked the door and got yourself ready. No one but the cleaners was allowed in your room. Everyone who worked here had their own private rooms, giving the customers full privacy. No one entered or left at the same time, it was a tight clock. 
You made sure the room was perfect, you had scented candles lit, making the room smell of vanilla and coconut, the lights dimmed low. The room was a naturally dark room, a four pillar wooden king size bed sat in the middle of it. The oak pillars stood tall giving it a royal feel to it. The small fire burning gave the room the perfect temperature, you wanted to keep your guest comfortable after all, there was nothing worse than a cold room when having sex. You looked over her checklist once more, smirking as you read it. You had a feeling you were going to have fun with her. 
That's when you heard a knock on the door. Show time.
“Enter.” You called out.
The door opened with a young woman standing behind one of the “Toys” Both their faces half covered with masquerade masks. The ��toys’ were like house butlers but half naked, they greeted the guests on arrival and escorted them in and out of the building. They confiscated phones or any kind of device that could record, you wanted your privacy to. They were in charge of taking the customers to change out of their clothes and into something more appropriate, and into the robes provided. They were young apprentices, shall we say. They got the name ‘toy’ because they were ‘played’ with constantly by workers like you in the best kind of way, of course, they were like shiny new toys, hence the name. You and other workers taught them the ways of your work, they were literally learning on the job.
“You, come in.” You pointed at your partner for the night. She hesitantly took a step forward into your room. 
“Leave us.” you said to the ‘toy’.  She took a step back, closing the door behind her. 
You locked the door, giving yourself and your guest privacy. You turned around to see the blonde woman standing straight ahead, her body looked rigid, most of them did when they first entered. 
“Take off your robe.” You said it softly, but with a dominant tone.
The blonde took a deep breath and removed her robe down to her waist, she was nervous to take it completely off. But that's why you were there.
“All of it.” You demanded.
She took another deep breath and allowed the clothing to drop to the floor. You smiled.
You took a good look at her body, she was stunning. She was wearing a beautiful, very expensive looking red laced set that complimented her olive skin perfectly. You could tell she worked out, her muscles in her back alone were impressive. Your eyes drifted down to her pretty perky arse, her red thong sat neatly between her cheeks and fuck, it was perfect. You had the urge to slap those perfect cheeks and watch them jiggle, but that could wait, you had 12 hours to play with her. 
You could see she had tattoos scattered across her skin, her blonde hair flowing down her back was covering parts of the art. Her muscles were tensing beneath her skin, you could see she was nervous, you wanted her in many ways, but nervous was not one of them.
You stepped closer to her, gently touching her shoulder, she jumped at the contact. 
“Oh we don't want that, no need to be nervous around me.” You purred.
You finally stepped in front of her, and you nearly lost your own nerve. Even with the mask you knew who she was. The women standing in front of you was none other then Alexia fucking Putellas. Fuck.
You didn't have many celebrity crushes, you weren't really one to obsess over the latest hot new movie star. But, you were a sucker for a female footballer. And in some sick twist of fate, the one you lusted over most was standing half naked right in front of you. Ready to be dominated.
You prided yourself on being a professional, you have seen many faces that you recognised in this room before, faces you saw in films, in music, even in politics. You had never batted an eyelid. You would even use it as part of your play with them. Use it as a tool to either put them down or build them up, depending on the service of course. 
You were a little taken back when you recognised her, you nearly faltered, nearly. But you were a professional, this was your job, but god, this was going to be hard. 
You stepped closer to the Spaniard, you put your finger under her chin and lifted her head slightly, making her look at you. “You’re a pretty little thing aren't you?.” You smirked.
The blonde casted her hazel eyes to the floor, a small smile at her lips. “Thank you.” She said quietly. 
You were a bit shocked to see the footballer so timid. On social media she seemed a lot more confident, but you knew more than most people, that not everyone was the same in and outside of the bedroom. 
You looked over her body one last time, before you left her where she stood. You sat on the end of the king size bed, spreading your legs wide. 
“Come here my pretty pet.” You point to the space between your legs.
Alexia looks between your legs and back up at you, almost scared to be caught looking. She starts to walk but you stop her.
“No. Not like that. On your hands and knees, crawl. You’re my pretty pet.” You smirked devilishly at her. 
She looked a little taken back but she got on her hands and knees like you said and crawled to you. Her perfect arse swaying as she did. You felt a little excitement in your stomach at the view, but you knew you had to keep it professional. Crush or no crush. She was still your guest.
You looked down at the girl between your legs, she kept her head down, you watched her hazel eyes look everywhere but at you. Even behind the gold mask you could see she was still nervous. You gently placed your hand on her cheek, she leaned into your palm instantly. You were definitely going to have fun with her tonight. 
“I like the name 'Pretty pet' for you, you are so very pretty. Are you going to be a good, pretty pet for me?” 
She nodded. That wouldn't do. You grabbed her chin, her cheeks were squashed between your fingers pushing her lips out.
“When I ask you a question I want a verbal answer.”
“Sí. Yes, s-sorry.” She stuttered.
You roughly released her face, leaning back from her. 
“You’re not the queen in this room, do you understand?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Good. In fact you will refer to me as Miss Queen.” 
“Yes, Miss Queen.” She nodded.
You smiled. “Good, I like an obedient pet. Let's take this mask off you. We don’t need it anymore.” You untied the mask and removed it from her. Finally seeing her full face, she was even more beautiful in real life.
You take your time looking at her, this stunning woman in front of you was specifically here for you, for her pleasure. 
With this kind of job it was easy for it to get to your head. You have someone paying thousands to specifically spend a night with you, just to fulfill their own sexual needs. But you had learnt from early on that it wasn't just a sex thing, it was almost like a therapy session for your guest, something they needed. Fantasies that society made them feel weird for wanting, so they seeked out their pleasures privately. It was a safe space for you and them, a place where nothing would be used against them. And if you were rich and famous then it was the perfect space for you. And you were there to provide that service for them.
You smiled down at the girl below you, you caught her eyes on your sex, her hazel eyes locked with your own, she looked embarrassed to be caught red handed.
“Like what you see, pretty pet?”
She nodded. “Yes, very much Miss Queen.”
You hummed. “My thighs need some attention, give it to them.” 
“Yes, Miss Queen.” Alexia shuffled closer on her knees. She started to place gentle kisses on your skin, your leather boots covered half of your thighs, only giving her lips space closer to your pussy, not that you minded. She began to use her tongue, slowly licking and sucking on your flesh. You leaned back, stroking her hair, watching the girl beneath you. You watched as her tongue darted out, and then her lips would suck. She got closer to your pussy, as she sucked at the crease of where your thigh and leather suit met. 
You let out a sigh.“That's good my pretty pet. I can see your pretty mouth can work, I’ll definitely enjoy that later. Stand up” 
Alexia stood in front of you, her red lingerie hugged her body perfectly. You stood up right in front of her, even with your heels she had the height leverage, not that it mattered. Not in this room.
“Stay facing the bed. Put your hands up.” 
Alexia did what she was told. You grabbed the restraints that were hanging from the top of the beds banister above her head, you secured her wrists to the restraints, keeping her in place. You walked over to your draw of toys, looking specifically for a certain item. You smirked as you found it. 
You walked over to her, the accessory in your hand. Her beautiful body was tense, as her muscles in her arms and shoulders flexed from the position. You stepped closer to her, enjoying your view up close. You pressed your body against hers, her own body tensed instantly on feeling you. You were close enough to smell her perfume, it smelt expensive. 
“I’m going to give you 10 lashes and the only thing I want to hear coming from your mouth is ‘Thank you Miss Queen.’ Understood?”
“Yes, Miss Queen.” 
“Good, if you’re a good girl for me, you’ll be rewarded. Does that sound good, my pretty pet?” 
“Yes Miss Queen, thank you.”
“Perfect. Let’s begin.” You kissed her shoulder, Your eyes roamed her pretty arse, her perfect pretty arse. Just waiting to be red like her thongs. You brought the black leather paddle board up, and lashed it across her cheeks. 
Crack. “Thank you Miss Queen.” She took the first hit well. You brought down the paddle again, watching her arse shake from the impact. 
Crack. She hissed out. “Thank you Miss Queen.”
You got to the 8th slap, and her body was shaking, her breathing was hard. 
“You are doing so well, you’re such a good pet.” 
“Thank you Miss Qu- ahh!….Queen.” Crack. 9th hit.
“Last one. It's a shame, I enjoy watching your pretty arse shake.” You smirked.
It was the last one and your hardest one. Her head flew back, as her body shook from the feeling of your paddle. “T-thank you, Miss queen.”
You knelt down and gave both her cheeks a delicate kiss. Humming as you did. “Thank you, pretty pet. I'm going to have so much fun with your arse.” You peppered her cheeks with your lips. She slightly flinched from the sensation, her arse was more than likely on fire, but she still signed in pleasure.
You took a step back, looking over her red cheeks. “You’re just perfect aren't you? Turn around, let me see you.” Alexia turned her body, now standing in front of you, her face was flushed, her cheeks a cute shade of pink. Her red lingerie hugged her body perfectly, but as pretty as it was it needed to come off.
You took a step closer to her, your face inches from hers. You looked between your bodies smiling. “Thank you for making such an effort for me tonight, pretty pet.” You glided your fingers over her bra, you could feel her erect nipple through the thin fabric. 
Alexia suddenly became shy at the compliment, it embarrassed her that you knew she tried to make an effort, buying the outfit specifically for tonight, for you. 
You gently cupped her chin like you did earlier. You moved your lips inches from hers, you could see the desperation in her eyes. “Even though you look so pretty in your lingerie, I want to see all of you.”
“Please.” She begged.
You gripped her face tighter. “Are you losing your manners, pet?” 
She shook her head as much as she could with your tight grip. “No. Sorry, Miss Queen. I’m sorry.”
You smiled at her, your eyes glazing over her lips. “Good. Don’t upset me.” 
You untied her from the restraints and removed her bra from her chest, revealing a beautiful pair of breasts.
“Pretty girl.” You whispered. 
You slowly took her left nipple into your mouth, sucking on the perked flesh. Her head tilted back as a quiet moan escaped her lips. Just like she did before, she moved closer to your touch, desperate to feel you. A simple gesture like that made you understand the kind of touch she needed tonight. You moved over to the other side, gently squeezing her tight bud between your teeth, earning you a beautiful moan. 
You released her nipples with a wet pop from your lips. “Turn around, get on the bed. I want that pretty arse in the air.”
Alexia got on the bed, shuffling on her knees, just like you told her to. You went back to your draw of toys, looking for the item you had in mind. Once you found the object, you accompanied it with a bottle of lube.
You turned around to see a truly pornagraphic site. Alexia had her arse in the air, her face down on the bed waiting for your next command. You stood behind her, greedily looking over her body. You stroked her thighs, making her jolt at your delicate touch. You moved your hands up to her red thongs and peeled the skimpy fabric down her thighs. 
Wow.
The girl was drenched, you watched as her shiny streaks of wetness clung to her lips, as you removed the clothing. You felt your mouth water at the sight, you let out your own appreciative groan. Of all the female footballers that could have been in your room tonight it had to be the one you lusted over the most, the one that you literally pictured in this room many times. Now here she was. All wet and waiting.
Alexia heard your moan, it made her chest swell with pride. It felt like she had done something right for you. 
“Look at you, you may have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen.” You smiled as you took a swipe from her wet lips. You lifted your wet finger to your mouth and smeared her essence on your lips, like she was your own personal lip gloss. 
You groaned. “Fuck, she taste pretty too, what a sweet little thing you are.”
Alexia moaned from your words, you could tell the girl was starting to visibly relax.
“I’m going to play with your pretty little arse for a little bit. I have a beautiful red diamond plug that I think will suit you perfectly.”
“Yes, Miss Queen. I’d like that.” her voice trembled.
You had a feeling you knew why Alexia had booked with you, it was always the same. People who booked with you who were always in a leading role, a job that everyone counted on you to make the decisions. The people who got the most blame for a mistake that wasn't even theirs, it was just because they were the main face that they would get the most backlash. And with jobs like that they were always in charge, so coming here was a break, a release from the stress. They didn't get to make any decisions here.
You smirked as you covered the plug generously with lube, but not without covering your fingers too. You slowly started to ease one finger into her tight hole. Her breathing picked up straight away, small moans left her mouth as you got the tip of your finger past her tight muscles. “Such a good girl.” 
She moaned at your words. Her back arched as she felt your finger slowly ease depper in, she clearly wasn't a stranger to this, you couldn't help imagine her outside this room and in your own bed training her arse to stretch. After some slow and gentle pushing your knuckle was pressing into her hole. You allowed her to get used to the feeling, ever so slowly moving your finger in and out, stretching her out. Her soft moans were beautiful, you watched as she held onto the bed sheets needing something to hold.
You stroked her back with your free hand. “So good.” She pressed her arse back into you, she was definitely a praise kink kind of girl. Your favourite kind of girl. After a while of manipulating her hole, you slowly removed your finger and began to ease the shiny but plug.
“You’re so good, taking this like a pro. You’ve done this before haven’t you? Hmm? You like your pretty arse played with.”
“Sííí. Sí M-miss Queen.” Alexia groaned.
“I thought so. Such a dirty pet.” 
Finally the plug was sitting perfectly between her cheeks. You looked down proudly at your work, a red gem next to her red cheeks. Another shiney substance caught your eye, that’s when you noticed her juices had dribbled halfway down her thighs. 
“Oh my poor pretty pet, you've made such a mess of yourself.” You said it with a hint of tease to your voice. “Let me clean you up.” 
You got on your knees in front of Alexia’s thighs, you dipped your head closer and ran your tongue up each strong thigh, catching her body's juices. Alexia let out a groan at the feeling of your tongue, cleaning her up. You had tasted many girls in your time but wow, Alexia was something special. You sucked and licked on her skin, you grabbed her cheeks as she began to push backwards, clearly wanting your tongue somewhere else.
“Ohh she's a desperate girl.” Your voice was teasing.
She really was, Alexia had been looking forward to this appointment for months, she found out about this establishment through a friend of a friend, and when she came across your profile she enquired instantly. 
You began to kiss up close to her sex, her lips were dripping. You slowly moved closer to where she wanted you most, but teased her with purposefully slow kisses, inch by inch getting closer. You smirked as you heard her breathing getting quicker. Ever so gently you kissed her lips, your own lips topped back up with the beautiful gloss that was Alexia. 
A whimper dripped from the girl's mouth, god she was desperate. You could tell she needed this. You kissed her again, this time you pushed your tongue past her lips and into her velvety folds, finally having her on your tongue. You weren't ready for the filthy groan she let out, making your own pussy throb. 
You lapped a few times before you began to eat her out properly, your tongue stroking teasingly at her hole, but not once touching her clit. She tried to open her legs further, but her thongs still on her thighs only allowed her so far. 
As much as it pained you to do, you pulled away from her. You wanted to have more fun with her before she was allowed to come. But of course she protested when you stopped. 
“Please Miss Queen. I’ve been so good.”
Fuck. Alexia begging was music to your ears. “You have been good, so good, but I’m not done playing with you.”
The blonde let out a moan, but before she could even finish your hand smacked her arse. Making her yelp.
“Lay on the bed, on your front now!” You put on your most dominant voice. 
The girl couldn't move quicker, she laid on her front waiting for you. You pulled her thongs down off her thighs, freeing her legs. “Put your arms up near your head.” You commanded.
She did as she was told. You grabbed her hands and locked her wrist in the restraints attached to the front of bed. Her naked body laid there waiting for you. The red gem between her cheeks caught your eye as you approached her.
“I’m sorry, Miss Queen. I j-just. Your tongue feels so good.” 
You stroked her hair from her neck, you moved closer to her ear, licking the shell as you did. “You wont get my tongue if you carry on being a brat. Is that what you want?”
Panic set in her eyes. “No, no. Please. I’m sorry, Miss Queen. Ho sento molt” 
You hadn’t prepared yourself for Alexia speaking in Catalan. You felt yourself becoming wet again, but you gritted your teeth and held down your own hornyness for now. You grabbed a fistfull of her hair and yanked her head up. “Make me angry one more time. I promise you won't like it.”
You released the hold on her hair and walked over to the candles on the side, picking up one in particular. This one had a lip on the side for a certain use. You walked back over, your heels hitting the wooden floor boards with purpose. You climbed on the bed and sat just below Alexias arse. 
“Make sure to breathe, baby girl.” 
“Yes, Miss Queen.” The Spaniard breathed out.
You tilted the candle slowly on its side and watched as the hot melted red wax dripped over her back, she cried out as the burning liquid came into contact with her skin. 
The noises she let out made your own eyes roll back. Alexia was writhing underneath you. The hot sensation of the wax made every nerve in her body scream. It felt like a bolt of electricity had coursed through her skin, she gasped as she felt more drips gather just above her cheeks, the feeling was intoxicating, she could feel her cunt pulsate from the burn. 
“I would normally gag my pet but the noises you make are delicious.” 
“Graci-gr- ….aghh. Thank you. Th-ank you, Queen.” 
Her accent had become thicker, she was clearly struggling to form her words, you loved it. You didn't even care that she messed up. “Hmm, such a good, pretty pet.” You moved the candle away, you watched as the blonde breathed hard beneath you. You climbed off her, putting the candle back on the side.
You went into your dresser to get your next prop. “You ready to be a good girl? Be my good, pretty pet?” You began to remove your corset, the Spaniard's hazel eyes popped open comically as your corset hit the floor, she watched you like a hawk. You were now completely naked other than your thigh high boots. You slinked over to her, she was still trapped by the restraints, unable to move. 
“Sí Miss Queen, I want to be your good girl, please.” Her voice was raspy. 
You smiled as you stroked her hair, she was such a good submissive, it nearly took your breath away. You began to attach your item in your hand around her neck. She watched you closely, her hazel eyes were dripping with want, she looked at you like she wanted to devour you. As much as she was a sub you could tell she could switch it up. The look she gave you almost made you nervous, almost.
You untied her from her wrist restraints but she was now attached to a new type of restraint. “Come pretty girl. Follow me. I think you deserve a treat.” You smiled devilshy at her, and she smiled back, fuck, this girl was breaking your resolve. You watched as Alexia followed you, you held the lead in your hand that was now attached to her neck. You walked backwards watching her movements. My god what a sight it was.
You walked in front of the lit fireplace, and stood in front of the big black leather chair. A chair fit for a queen. You gently pulled the blonde closer by her lead, just shy of your mouth. You could feel her heavy breathing on your lips. You smirked up at her, her hazel eyes were locked on to your mouth. She truly was beautiful. 
You slowly inched impossibly closer to her mouth, your lips millimetres from touching hers. You scraped her hair back gently and slowly attached your lips to hers, kissing her for the first time tonight. You kept it slow, her lips were so delicate and soft. You were exploring her mouth the way you wanted, you gently dipped your tongue past her lips, earning you the cutest groan. 
Alexia could kiss, her mouth fit perfectly against yours, both enjoying the feeling of the other. She delicately slipped her tongue in your mouth, you allowed it as it was still the pace you set. Her skilful tongue danced over your own, making you groan. She clearly liked that she was able to pull a noise from you, as she made small muffled noises that made you want to throw her on the bed and fuck her relentlessly. 
That's when she forgot her place.
You felt her hand come up to touch your hip slightly squeezing you, just as she decided to push her tongue further, trying to control the kiss. You pulled away, her eyes were still closed as she tried to chase your lips. You chuckled at her neediness, but really you just wanted to give her anything she wanted. Fuck. Get it together. 
You pulled her lead again close to your mouth, eyeing her up. “Has someone forgotten who's in charge here?” Before she could answer you pulled her leash harder. She gasped from the jolt. “Because I know for a fucking fact it isnt you.” That knocked her down a peg, but you knew you'd give it to her later. She knew it too. 
“I’m sorry, Miss Queen, your mouth is perfecte.”
You pulled the lead, making her pant. “On your knees, pretty pet.” She obeyed and slowly dropped to her knees, never taking her eyes off of you. The glow from the fire illuminated half of her face, causing her hazel eyes to glow a golden colour, making her look even more beautiful. She stared up at you like you were some kind of god, like she was ready to drop any religion she believed in before tonight and worship you instead.
You sat on the leather chair, spreading your legs wide. Her eyes went straight to your core, she saw instantly how wet you were, causing an excited look to flash across her face. Her mouth was slightly parted; you didn't miss the way her tongue darted out, wetting her kiss swollen lips. You let out a deep sigh as you leaned back into the seat, making yourself comfy, your cocky bravado on full show. You lent your hand under your chin, a devilish smile plastered your face. You looked at the girl sitting in front of you, she was a completely different girl from the one who walked in this room tonight. There were no nerves in sight, no more tense muscles, and you hadnt even fucked her yet. You gently pulled the lead to get her attention, as she was still unashamedly gazing at your wet lips. 
“Are you ready for your treat, pretty girl?” 
She nodded quickly. “Sí, sí. Please Miss Queen, I’m ready.”
You smirked. “Good. You’ve made me a bit of a mess. Come and clean me up.” 
She shuffled closer to you on her hands and knees, you placed your heel on her back to rest and to remind her who was in charge. You jerked the lead just before she could inch any closer to you.
“Do not stop until I tell you to.” 
“Sí, Miss Queen.” Her voice was desperate.
“Clean me up.” 
She began to kiss up your thigh, but made quick work of it, clearly impatient as her tongue was on your clit a lot quicker than you wanted. You yanked the leash, moving her away from you.
“Do not rush. Do not make me warn you again, or you'll be tied up and spanked until you can no longer feel your skin. Do you understand?”
She bit her lip in remorse, and once again it nearly made you slip, this girl was driving you crazy and you had a feeling she knew it too. “Ho sento, Miss Queen.” She kissed your thigh gently.
“Good, get back to it. Make sure to swallow, don’t waste a drop.” You pulled her closer by the leash, not giving her time to respond. This time her lips were slow on your thighs, licking and sucking gently. She took small bites on your flesh, making you grit your teeth. “Good girl.” You rewarded her. Her golden eyes looked up at you, clearly happy to be praised again. She kept her eyes glued to yours as her tongue finally made contact with your wet lips. You made a point not to react, she was going to have to work for this. You didn’t want her to get any more cocky than she already was. 
Did it annoy Alexia? Yes. She knew she was good with her tongue, actually if she was being honest she was amazing with her tongue. When she saw you didn't even flinch it jarred her, she didn't really know why but she wanted to prove herself to you, but she didn't mind putting on a show for you. She dipped her tongue into your cunt and up your folds, soaking her tongue in your juices, she leaned slightly back so you could see just how wet you were. 
You watched as your shiny wet streaks clung from her tongue to your core, she looked at you as she greedily licked your arousal into her mouth and swollowed. Fuck, this was going ot be hard. She got to work on pleasuring you, lapping her tongue through your velvet folds, her eyes closed in concentration, slurping and swallowing your juices. The sight before you was breathtaking, you had Alexia Putellas on her hands and knees eating you out like she had a point to prove. 
The fire's flames licked over her body, her olive skin was glowing from the small blaze. She moved her tongue higher, you couldn't hold the moans any longer as her talented tongue toyed with your clit. You brought your hand into her blonde hair, pushing her head closer. She groaned from the touch, happy to feel your contact. 
“Quite a talented mouth you have on you. You feel so good, pretty pet.” You praised her.
You pushed her further into your pussy, she was building you up quicker then you normally would like, but a part of you didnt care, she felt too good, and she was definitely making a point. She sucked gently on your swollen bundle of nerves, your hand in her hair getting tighter as she sucked and licked. You could feel the coil in the bottom of your stomach start to build. Your moans only pushed Alexia further, wanting so badly to make you come. As your pleasure built you heard a small noise come from the girl below you, she started to fucking whimper as she suckled on your erect clit. You looked down at her, her eyes were closed as her head bobbed up and down between your legs. 
“You’re such a good, pretty pet. I’m going to come in your pretty mouth. S-so good. So fucking good.” You rasped out.
Her noises alone made your hips start to move, you began to push into her mouth, she had the most perfect suction on your bundle of nerves. You pulled on her leash to get her closer, her whimpering getting louder as your hips moved against her tongue. The heated wave of your orgasm rushed through your body, you grabbed her head, needing her to stay exactly where she was, you pushed her impossibly closer as she sucked on your clit. Her name was on the tip of your tongue, as you shakily whimpered out, but you were able to hold it down. 
Alexia was in heaven, she felt your juices seep out and coat her tongue. She swallowed you down like you told her to, her own head swelled at seeing you so out of breath. She stayed on her hands and knees, lapping you up. You were sensitive but you allowed her to stay on, you watched her tongue lick between your folds, it wasn't long before she coaxed another orgasm out of you, making you completely fall apart. 
You let out a shaky breath as you moved her head away. You hated to admit it but no one had ever made you come like her, most of the time your guest wasn't even able to make you come, let alone twice. You watched as the blonde sat on her heels, her mouth was smeared with your essence, she smiled up at you, clearly happy with herself. 
You chuckled. “Wow. Not just talented on the pitch then are you.” 
You saw the glint flash in her eyes at the praise, she broke out in a genuine smile, a smile that melted your insides, fuck sake. You would only praise her from now on if that's how she reacted. But you still had to remind her who was boss.
“Come pretty girl, unzip my boots.” 
Alexia unzipped your boots, pulling them off you and placing them to the side.
“Up.” You snapped.
You both stood up, you were glad to be out of your heels as your legs felt like jelly as you stood.
“Come pretty pet.” You pulled on the leash and Alexia followed. 
You snapped your fingers, pointing to the middle of the bed. “On your back, arms up.”
Alexia did what she was told and climbed on top of the bed with her arms up.
You heard a small gasp come from the girl. “A mirror?” She smirked. 
You had a large mirror placed under the roof of the bed, so your guest had a view from the angle on their back. 
You smiled. “Best view in the house.”
You attached her wrist to the restraints on the bed, making sure they were tight. You could feel her eyes watching your every move. You untied the leash around her neck, you wrapped your fingers gently around her neck and squeezed her throat, earning you a whimper. 
“Hmm, I love the sounds you make.” You gently squeezed again. 
She moved forward trying to connect her lips to yours, and you gave in, gently kissing her. If that’s what she wanted then that’s what she would get.
The Spaniard was giddy, you could see she was excited. And so was you. You walked over to your drawer of goodies and grabbed the harness you wanted, you slipped it on with the 8 inch dark navy dick attached to it. Alexia was staring at you, her muscular thighs were already rubbing together. 
“Is someone desperate?” You teased.
“Sí, Miss Queen. I-I need you.” 
“You need me? Hmm, la Reina needs me?” 
“Sí, so bad. My queen.” 
“Hmm I like that.” You chuckled. 
You covered the strap with lube, and made your way over to the bed. You sat kneeled at Alexia's legs that were closed.
You eyed her up. “Open.” 
She almost looked hesitant to do it, but she did, she shakily opened her legs and you nearly forgot how to speak. She was dripping wet. You felt your core tighten just at the sight. The red diamante plug was covered in her wetness, what a sight to see.
You smirked deviously.. You pushed her legs open wider. “You’re a messy kind of girl aren’t you?”
“I-I don’t normally. I’ve never been this wet before.” She said it so quietly it nearly broke your heart. 
You rubbed her thighs soothingly “That's okay my pretty girl. It’s exactly how I want you.” 
She smiled, letting out air that was stuck in her lungs. 
You moved your hand to her soaking wet entrance and circled her clit. 
“Merda.” She husked out. 
You watched her face as you ran your fingers through her folds, just feeling her, remembering her, she moaned and wiggled under your touch. Then without warning you pushed two fingers inside her. The groan she let out made your pussy clench. She closed her eyes, her mouth gaped open from the sudden intrusion. You allowed her to get used to you before stroking your fingers in and out. 
You slowly rubbed your thumb on her erect clit, causing the blonde to tense on your fingers, you could feel her walls already starting to shake. You dipped your head and replaced your thumb with your mouth, wrapping your lips around her swollen pink head. 
Alexia’s moan was pornagraphic, her hips came off the mattress, her back arched as you suckled on her.   
“Please, déu mio.” Her eyes were screwed shut as she begged. You moved your fingers harder in her, making sure to hit that beautiful g spot of hers. Your tongue eagerly lapped at her clit, flicking it, pushing her closer. Her wetness was seeping into your mouth, almost making it hard to breathe, you swallowed as you sucked, making sure she could hear your throat gulp her juices down.
It didn’t take long before her body started to completely shake, she pulled her arms on the restraints, wanting so badly to touch you. She would normally have some kind of control when a girl was in between her legs. She felt her muscles tighten as her body tipped over the edge, she came hard, she cried out as her body rutted against your mouth.   
You kept your mouth on her until it was too much, she faintly cried out. “I can’t take anymore.” You reluctantly moved your head away, kissing her thighs on the way up. You sat up, your mouth gleaming with her essence. You lined yourself up to her entrance, one hand on her thigh, one hand holding the 8 inch appendage. You started to tease her entrance.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You.”
“What do you want from me, pretty pet?”
“To fuck me, hard.” She huffed.
“Hmm I don’t know if you can take it.” Your voice was teasing.
“I can take it.” She rolled her eyes and smirked. 
“Hmm, but do you deserve it?”
“Yes. I’ve been so good. Please.” God she was desperate
“You’re so needy aren't you? Such a needy pretty girl.”
“Sí. I need you so bad.” Her voice was straining now.
“Tonight this pussy is mine, got it?” You circled her clit gently.
“S-sí, it's yours.” She moaned.
“You are mine, isn't that right pretty pet?” 
“Sí, I'm all yours. All y-yours, I belong to you.” She husked out. Her eyes were full of lust, her face and cheeks blushing red, her hair was a slight mess. She looked perfect. “Please amore.” 
You smiled at the term of endearment. “Only because you asked so nicely “Ready?”
“Sí, please. Sí us plau fot-me.” 
You slowly pushed the head of the dick into her core, watching it enter her inch by inch. She started to let out small gasps as the girthy dick stretched her out, it almost felt too much, the air felt cold as it left her lungs. 
“Breath, baby girl.” You didn't move, you were only half way in but you allowed her to get used to the thickness of you. You watched her take a few deep breaths, and her body relaxed. She lifted her hips for you to keep going. You squeezed her thighs as you began to push deeper, her whimpers were errotic, the noises this girl made were something you wish you could have heard every damn day.
You slowly began to pump your hips, you were kneeling between her legs, able to watch and move at the pace you wanted. You couldn't stop staring as you sunk in and out of her, her pussy swallowing each thrust. You began to move faster, her moans becoming louder as you stretched her out. 
You placed your hands on the back of her thighs for support as you started to really fuck her. The sounds of her moaning and wet pussy were filling the room. You pushed her legs further to her chest and began to move your hips at a relentless speed. She tried to moan but no sound came out, your hips were moving like they were on speed. 
“Perfect girl. So perfect. Taking my dick so well.”
Alexia just had to lay there and take the rough pounding you gave her, watching you fuck her in the mirror above, her hands were still restrained above her head. She tried to respond but she was a mess of filthy moans. Her face was pure bliss as you hit deep in her tight walls, pushing her body deep into the mattress below, as you pressed your body into hers.
You were close to her face now, you kissed her roughly, she was just about able to form a kiss, you sucked on her lower lip and sunk your teeth into her plump flesh, causing her to whimper. You let go of one of her legs and moved your hand to her throat, wrapping your fingers around her neck. You squeezed with just enough pressure to hear her moan slip into a broken cry.
You could have stayed like this all night, if her body would allow it, just watching her face as she was fucked by you, you could feel your clit throbing from the site. You kept your pace up for a while, you felt your body start to sweat, making both your skin stick, the fire in the room was definitely keeping you warm.
That's when you felt her legs begging to shake, she wrapped them around your waist pulling you deeper, her moans became high, her head flung back into the pillow. You leaned into her ear.
“That's it, pretty girl, let that pretty pussy come over my dick. You’ve been so good, taking me so well.”
You thrusted faster, you grabbed her face and kissed her, her whimpers vibrated on your lips, her eyes were shut as her body started to rut. “Estic venint!” You were glad you knew enough Catalan to understand that was a good thing. Her body shook as she came, you kissed her as her body became dead weight. You dropped her legs and gently pulled out of her. You wanted her in a new position, not caring about her protests.
“Turn around.” 
Before she could even move you moved her body for her, you brought her hips up in the air, putting her on her knees. The ruby coloured plug was still in place. You didn't wait around, you sunk your dick inside her, right until your thighs were slotted with hers.
Alexia's eyes rolled into the back of her head, the pressure from the plug in this position was a whole different feeling, she could feel your dick pressing against the plug between her walls, the pressure was amazing. She didn’t have time to get used to it, you began to fuck her hard. 
You pushed her head down as your hips slapped her cheeks on every thrust, you thought you’d heard her moan before, but nothing compared to this. She gripped the bed sheets as you went to town, her moaning made your own eyes roll. You stole a glance upwards at the mirror above, you watched her cheeks slap roughly against your thighs, your clit was rubbing perfectly against the base of the strap. You looked down at the ruby plug sparkling between her cheeks, your eyes then panned to the blue dildo, working in and out of her pussy. You smirked to yourself, they were the colours of Barcelona's kit. 
Alexia was mumbling and moaning in the bed sheets below, you could make out some words, most of it in Catalan, swearing and gibberish. You pushed deeper, feeling a perfect spot for your clit, you could feel the warm pressure in your stomach begin to rise, but Alexia was already close. Her legs began to shake again, her moaning becoming high pitched. 
“No baby, wait for me.” You demanded.
“I-I can’t” She groaned.
You slapped her arse hard. “You will.” 
But it was too late, Alexia tried when she heard you but the slap of the arse may have been the thing to push her. She came hard around your dick, her choked moaning was loud, her throat would definitely hurt tomorrow. She realised what she did, apologising instantly.
“I’m, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to I - merdaaa!” 
You started to thrust again, not caring about how sensitive she was, she disobeyed you, she would have to wait for you to come now.
“You’re going to take it until I come. Do you hear me?” Your voice was harsh.
“Sí, sí I’m sorry.”   
Your hips went at a back breaking pace. Alexia started to moan, her body was in complete overdrive. You pushed her closer to the head board, where her restraints were attached, and pulled her body up so her back was against your front. You sunk your teeth into her neck as you fucked her, the wet noises coming from her pussy were filthy. She whimpered at the pleasurable pain from your teeth and your dick thrusting into her. She was so sensitive, it was a lot, her whole body was vibrating, thrumming from the pressure between her legs. 
She gritted her teeth as you used her body to come. She knew she could say the safe word and you would immediately stop but it turned her on knowing she was being used in this way. And yeah, that she maybe disobeyed your orders on purpose to be a brat, so what. 
You pulled her right up against your body, you grabbed her throat holding her neck giving you full access. You began to suck and bite on her pulse points, feeling her heartbeat thump under your tongue. Your hips never stopped, her whimpers and cries were right in your ear, pushing you to the edge. 
“So good. Your moans are so fucking good.” 
She couldn't respond Alexia was teetering on her 3rd orgasm of the night, and you were right behind her (literally) You felt her legs shake, you pushed your fingers on her clit, rubbing her at a furious rate. You pushed her down at the head board to grab. You leaned into her putting the pressure you needed on your clit. You felt the rush of your pleasure sweep through your body as you came against the strap, you grinded against her pushing your orgasm right to the edge. Your fingers stopped on Alexia as you caught your breath.
“Please, please don’t stop.” Alexia begged.
You chuckled roughly into her ear, making her shiver. “You are such a good girl, such a good pretty girl.” 
You picked the pace back up and rubbed on her erect, sensitive clit, you brought her back up against your chest, both your bodies were slick with sweat, it didn't take long before she started to scream, she threw her head back, you captured her lips in a fierce kiss. That's when you felt a gush of water splash against your legs, Alexia had squirted all over your dick. This night was only getting better.
“M-merda.” She was completely out of breath.
You laughed softly, gathering her hair in one hand and blowing air on her sweaty neck. You both just stayed there catching your breath. 
“I’m going to pull out okay?” 
“Sí, slowly please.” 
“Of course.” You kissed her shoulder as you gently pulled out. You climbed off the bed and unlocked the Spaniard from the restraints. She fell to the mattress, clearly exhausted from your activities. It made you smile. You walked into the onsweet bathroom and started to run a bath. You put plenty of lavender soak in to make it bubbly, and started to light the candles that sat alongside the bath. You came back in to see Alexias hooded eyes looking at you, a satisfied smile plastered her face. 
“Looks like my pretty pet is all fucked out.” You smiled playfully.
She let out a throaty laugh. “Hmm, no. I think you are.” 
Your smirk was sadistic. “No honey, why do you think you still have the plug in?” 
Before Alexia could respond you grabbed her by the legs and turned her arse to the edge of the bed. You knelt to your knees and started to suck on her clit. She cried out her hands grabbing the sheets, too scared to touch you in case you stopped. Her body was so sensitive she was already guiding towards her 4th orgasm, you pushed two fingers into her core, at a fast rate. The blonde let out a throaty moan from the pace. You brought your other hand to her arse and began to push the plug in and out of her whole. That's when her hand did find your hair. But you allowed it.
You felt her legs start to shake, you sucked and licked at her very swollen, very sensitive clit, your fingers still thrusting deep inside her cunt. That familiar sound of her whimpers started to drip from her mouth, those sweet beautiful sounds. She pushed your head down further into her. That's when you felt her pussy pulsate around your finger and at the same time you pulled the plug out of her arse. The Spaniard let out a deep throaty scream you hadn't heard tonight as she came completely undone, giving her a whole different kind of sensation.
Her chest heaved heavily as she struggled to catch her breath, you kissed her thighs as you came up from her between her legs. You got back on your feet looking down at the girl, smirking at the mess you made of her. You wiped your thumb across your lips, gathering her wetness, her eyes were on you now. You sucked her wetness off your thumb and winked.
“You may be my new favourite flavour.”
Alexia's mouth gaped open, she groaned as she covered her eyes and laughed. Her laugh was rough, probably from all the screaming she had done tonight. 
You quickly checked the bath and it was the perfect height, you turned the taps off and made your way back to Alexia. 
“Follow me.” You put your hand out for her to take and she eagerly did. You guided her to the bathroom on her jelly like legs and helped her into the hot tub. You tied her hair into a bun, and showed her where everything was, if she needed it.
“Just relax okay, I’m just going to get this room sorted, do you need anything? I’ll get us some water, but would you like anything specific?”
She looked to be thinking. “No, I’m good. Water is fine. Gracias.” She smiled. Her voice was hoarse. 
You nodded and smiled, you closed the door and called the number for room service. 
“....Thank you, yeah erm, let's have a selection please, great, thanks chef.”
The cleaners came and changed the sheets at a rapid speed. Once they were done you thanked them and returned to Alexia.
“Hello pretty pet, how are we doing?” You smiled at her.
This was also part of the package, the after care. It was just as important as the sex side of things, it could sometimes get rough in the sheets and the body and mind sometimes had a habit of going into a weird kind of emotional shock if not properly looked after.
You helped her wash her body and helped her out of the bath. You wrapped her up in a warm fluffy towel and walked her back into the room. “There's fresh pjs on the bed. You don't have to wear them.” You winked, and she giggled. Fuck. You felt your knees go weak. You continued. “Fresh water is just on the table. Relax and make yourself comfortable. You kissed her forehead. “I’m going to take a shower and once I'm done I have a special cream for your arse that I’m going to apply.” 
“Okay, thank you Miss Queen.” She smiled with teeth. What a completely different girl.
Once you were done you wrapped yourself in your robe and came back to the room. Alexia was watching TV laying on the bed completely naked. 
“No pjs for you?” You smirked playfully. “Would you like a preference for me?” 
“Oh erm, no, whatever you’re comfortable with. But I do like you naked.” She smiled shyly.
Just before you could answer, room service was at the door. You opened only enough to take the tray from the toy butler. 
You turned around with a silver tray with a variation of ice cream. Alexia looked over and smiled.
“What's this?” 
“For your throat, it helps trust me.” 
The smile that spread across her face was breathtaking. “Gracias. Thank you so much.” She beamed.
“That's okay. I asked for a couple of flavours, as I wasn’t sure, but if these aren't what you like I can ask for whatever you want.” 
“No this is perfect, thank you, Miss queen.”
You both ate ice cream naked, while you watched ‘The office’ on netflix, a completely different atmosphere settled in the room. Once you were done you left the bowls outside. 
“On your front, let me cream that perfect arse.” 
Alexia laughed and did what she was told. You gently applied the cream to her cheeks, it was a cream to make sure the blisters would heal. The blonde was close to falling asleep, yawning as you creamed. You laced kisses up from her cheeks up to her neck.
“Done. Are you ready for bed, pretty pet?”
She smiled with sleepy eyes. “Sí, thank you for that. It feels good.”
You got into bed and before you could ask, Alexia threw herself into your chest, laying her head just under your neck. You instantly held her closer, you could feel her warm breath on your skin, making you shiver.
“Is this okay?” She asked, her voice almost sounded worried.
“Definitely.” You kissed the top of her head. Both of you fell asleep in each other's arms.
The clock alarm went off the next morning, pulling you from your deep sleep. Alexia started to stir before you could turn it off. You had 3 hours left with the girl, it made your heart break a little. The blonde made a cute but very sexy groan as she stretched her body, she nuzzled her nose and lips into your neck. “Nu vull.” Her morning voice was raspy.
You laughed at the childlike version of Alexia. You kissed her head as you pulled her closer. You stayed there for a couple of minutes, stroking her back, feeling her soft skin under your fingertips. She let out a deep sigh as she moved her hips a little into your thigh that was between her own. You pushed your thigh deeper into her and to no surprise you were met with wetness. You smirked as you pushed deeper, making Alexia groan. 
“Is my pretty pet wet for me already?”
Her sleepy smile gave you butterflies that you knew had no right being there.
“Sí” She grinded her hips harder on your leg, making a point.   
You started to kiss her neck, making sure to kiss every spot, she smiled as she felt your lips press against her skin. You pushed her gently on her back and started to move down her body, you sucked and licked at her olive skin, you could smell the lavender on her skin from the bubble bath. You kissed at her nipples that were still soft, clearly not as awake as Alexia's other regions. You sucked the soft flesh into your warm mouth, you couldn't help but moan as you felt the nub begin to perk under your tongue. Alexia watched you as you worshiped her body, you sank further down in between her legs, her lips glistened with her morning arousal, it made your mouth water, you could feel your own wetness begin to pool between your legs from the sight alone.
You gently ran your tongue between her wet lips, Alexia groaned above you, her body waking up to the feeling of you. You were slow with it, just taking in her body, her flavour, her sounds, the way she bit her bottom lip when you sucked her in a certain way, the crease between her brows when you pushed your tongue inside her, lapping and drinking her down. Her hands laced your hair, you couldn't stop her, not when she looked so good, you also wanted her to do what she wanted, if this was the way she wanted things to go then you wouldn't stop her. 
She slowly began to move her hips, pushing herself deeping into your tongue. Her morning voice mixed with a ragged throat from last night made her moans sound rough. “La teva boca és perfecta.” She whispered, you watched her as your mouth worked against her. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open, just feeling you eat her out, she didn't mind that you were taking it slow, she loved the thought of you just being there, she was in heaven. A new wave of wetness dripped into your mouth every so often, you could hear how wet she was as you lapped at her folds. You gently wrapped your lips around her soft clit, sucking the nub into your mouth.
Her fingers laced your hair, pulling you closer, she began to make the cute little whimpers she did ash she got close. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” She begged. 
You didn't dare stop. You allowed her to gently fuck your face as she came in your mouth. She let out a deep groan as her legs clamped around your head. You stayed between her legs for most of the morning, sucking on her clit until she came 2 more times. When you finally released her she looked spent. Her face was a picture of bliss. 
You ordered room service for some actual breakfast, even though you wished eating pussy classed as a meal it wasn’t sustainable. You both sat out on the balcony of your room, in your robes as you ate your breakfast. You spoke about her upcoming match, in a week. Sometimes you dreaded these mornings with the women, they could sometimes be awkward, no matter how hard you tried, but it wasn't like that with Alexia, she was completely at ease.
She even asked about your work, only one other guest asked about it before, no one ever asked, it was like they became weird at the fact that they paid for this service, but didn’t mind when you was fucking them an hour before. Alexia looked to be deep in thought when you spoke about it, she asked so many questions and you didn't mind answering.
“So no sex with men?” She asked.
“Nope. Just punishment, name calling, make them clean my room. Things like that.” You drank your oj. 
“I see, this is good, no? They pay you, but they clean.” She giggled at her own joke.
You couldn't help but laugh at her, she was a completely different person from what you saw in the media, she was funny, gentle and a complete softy.
“I want to ride you.” She smirked into her glass as she said it.
But clearly she still had the confidence to take over a room. 
“You’re going to suck it first.” You winked.
10 minutes later you found yourself on your back with the goddess that she was, riding your dick, she moaned as she fucked herself. Once again it wasn’t rushed, her hips moved slowly on you. You pinched at her nipples as she whimpered at the sensation, her eyes never left yours, it felt like you were making love to her. It was different but it was nice, it was what she needed. You circled her clit gently, teasing her, you made her beg for it. You reminded her who she belonged to. You told her she had to think of you when she touched herself, to remind her that her pussy was yours. 
She came with a low groan, her throat sounded like it couldn't take anymore, her back arched, her head tilted back. You kissed her chest as she came down from her high. She helped you take the harness off and before you knew it her head was between your legs, you clit in between her lips. Just like you did, she was slow, painfully slow, you could feel her tongue exploring every crease of you. You came embarrassingly fast, but you couldn’t help it, Alexia had put some kind of spell on you. The second time wasn't so fast, her three fingers in you made you crumble beneath her, she kissed your mouth as you came, making you whimper into her lips. 
Your time with her was coming to an end, you called room service to bring up her bags. You both showered, together of course. You couldn't help but find your hands between her legs once more, pinning her to the shower wall as your fingers fucked her roughly. Her moaning bouncing in the tiled room sounded even better. 
You were both dressed now, you held her hands kissing her knuckles, you couldn't believe how quick the time had gone with her. 
“I don’t even know where to start. Thank you so much for everything.” The blonde smiled shyly. 
“You’re more than welcome. I’ve had a lot of fun with you.” You smirked.
“I don’t know if you would want to but I have some spare tickets for my gam -, No sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I - I - erh,”
You stopped her with a kiss. “I'd like that actually.”
Her eyes lit up. “Yeah?” Her cheeks blushed for a whole other reason.
“Yeah, you can get my details off the team. I’ll let them know I’m okay with it.” You smiled.
“Okay, great. I can't wait.” She kissed your cheek. 
“Yeah, Lucy Bronze is my favourite, I can't wait to see her.” You smirked.
She gave you a fake laugh and rolled her eyes. Smiling as she nudged you away. “Ha ha! So funny.” 
What was happening to you? You never allowed this but Alexia was something else, someone completely different, you genuinely liked the girl. 
“Good bye, my Queen” Alexia kissed your lips. 
You pulled back “Good bye la meva Reina.”
You opened the door, one of the ‘toys’ was waiting outside to accompany Alexia out. You said your final goodbyes and watched the Spaniard leave. A weird feeling sat in your stomach, you had never felt like this before, but a weird empty space had overtaken you. The only thing you could hope was that she didn't chicken out wanting to see you next week.
—---
A couple days had passed and you hadn't gotten anything from the girl you assumed she didn't do it, or she changed her mind. Until one evening you heard a notification on your phone. You smiled as you read it.
‘Link Attachment - Tickets, VIP access for Barcelona grounds.’
Alexia - Sorry it took a while, my team hadn't sent it over. I hope you can still make it x
You - I was starting to think I’d have to watch it from home lol. Thank you, I can't wait x
Alexia - ahaha, no! I got you amazing seats. How have you been? X
You spoke throughout the night, you couldn't get over the way Alexia made you feel. There was a connection you had with her that felt so natural, butterflies fluttered in your stomach for the next week, until you were face to face with La Reina again.
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targaryen-dynasty · 3 months
Text
THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE.
Antichrist!Aemond Targaryen x female Reader
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WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; dub con, p in v, fingering (with gloves 😮‍💨), dacryphilia, choking, degrading, unprotected sex, power imbalance, female reader
WORDS: 4.7 K
NOTES: Yes, this is based on American Horror Story Apocalypse. Michael Langdon is just so *phew* that I had to adapt it to Aemond. This is so self indulgent, I'm not even sorry. @kaelabear you're getting the special taglist. @arcielee thank you for beta reading this! <3
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You have lost track of how many days, months, or even years have passed since your arrival in Outpost 3, and gods, you’d give it all right away to be back in one of the holding cells the government had put you in around the time the bombs rained down over King’s Landing. 
Even though you received the status as a purple upon your arrival, therefore placing you to the upper-class elites specifically selected for survival, you couldn’t be worse off. At least there you’ve been allowed to do your own thing – as far as the confines allowed you to. 
The nutritional cubes they serve you are rationed, with Ms. Misery announcing they’ll have to ration them even further in the next days, and on top of being hungry and bored, you haven’t had a good fuck in quite the while. 
Sexual contact, or any kind of copulation, is strictly forbidden, and you’ve witnessed firsthand what it means to break Miserys’ rules – not that you’d make any moves on the other residents occupying the former exclusive boys school anyways. 
It’s only been you and your hand, sometimes even your pillow, from the very beginning on until now, and truth be told? You’re sick of it. 
At some point you’ve stopped getting yourself off, only because your body longed for physical contact, for someone else’s body on your own. 
And what certainly doesn’t help with your misery is the mysterious man that arrived just a few days ago. 
When he introduced himself as Targaryen, you knew his arrival was something that came partnered with power. As much as you would have liked to focus on his speech to campaign himself, you found it was far too difficult to care about humanity being on the brink of failure when the man telling you about it was so, so damn easy on the eyes.
Just the sight of his sharp features, regardless of a part of them being concealed by a black eyepatch, has been enough to make your mouth water. And when your eyes traveled lower, taking in the way his black slacks all but hugged his toned thighs, all was lost for you. 
You’ve been grateful that Laenor pounced on him to be interviewed first, wanting to see if he'd be worthy enough to be relocated to the so-called sanctuary, because you certainly would have jumped Targaryens’ bones right then and there. 
His alluring aura, the dominance radiating off of him – it all are factors that drive your aching body to insanity. and the nights that followed you found your relief more than once with the image of him flashing right before your eyes. 
Some time has passed in which you’ve barely seen him around, only hearing of him through the stories of the other residents that have been interviewed by him; now it’s your turn to warm the large chair standing in front of the imposing Mahogany desk. 
It’s the door behind you sliding open that lets your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, and you fidget with your fingers to stop yourself from turning around. You don’t want to be caught staring in the first few seconds already. 
You hear your name fall past his lips so smoothly it sends a shiver down your spine. You give in to the temptation and watch him step inside with an air of mellow gratification, prowling around the desk until he eventually sits down in the empty seat across from you.
“There’s no need to be nervous,” he purrs, a glint of mischief dancing in his eye. 
There comes no reply from you, instead you continue to fumble with your fingers, looking at what you assume to be your file splayed out on the desk in front of him. 
It’s the dismissive hum that rumbles in his chest that finally piques your interest, and when your gaze settles on him again, you spot him touch his chin thoughtfully as his eye skimps over the pages, seeming as if he’s reading it for the first time. 
The red gloves he wears stand in stark contrast to the otherwise colorless rest of his outfit, your gaze drawn to them like a moth to a flame. He has worn them upon his arrival already; the smooth leather shining in the dim light of the candles makes your mind wander to more indecent things. 
He tilts his head up again to meet your gaze, his smooth and calming voice ringing out. “Your genetic profile would appear to be favorable, so you can say that this interview is solely conducted as a… precaution.” Though it’s meant to be reassuring, the deliberate pause he makes doesn’t seem convincing. 
His words make you frown. “What for?” you ask, and you curse yourself for how blunt and bold your voice sounds. “Aren’t you in need of relocating the last few people that pass on good genes, now that this is the last outpost standing?” 
The genuine laugh he offers you prompts you to lean back in your seat, juxtaposing the way he leans forwards in his. Something in the arrogance that radiates off of him, and the smug smirk he has on his lips, feeds your irritation. 
“Doesn’t seem like you can afford to be picky,” you snap back at him. 
He licks his lips, and although it’s not longer than a second, your mind immediately drifts off to think about how it would feel between your legs, how he would feel between them. You try to be subtle as you shift in your seat, barely moving enough to soothe the aching that blooms at the apex of them. 
“We’re making the selections as carefully as possible,” he counters. The paper of your file is pinched between his index and thumb, rubbing it between the pads of his fingers. “We need to ensure the survival of humanity, and I’m sure you understand that we have to look for a certain level of ambition in the people we choose.”
Even though his explanation is vague, and doesn’t make much sense to you, it is strangely appealing. The word ambition is such a broad term that could mean anything from career-minded to cutthroat, yet you still have to figure out exactly what he means. 
The tension grows thicker and thicker with each passing second of silence, and you feel a warm sensation spreading inside of you from his intense gaze – which is perhaps also due to the hint of desire that gleams in his eye as he regards you. 
You try your best to ignore the way your heart races, wanting to diminish the warmth inside of you. But to no avail. 
When he rises from his seat, your heart drops into your stomach again, and your eyes grow wide with curiosity and intrigue. 
It’s a brief flicker of your eyes down his body that has you squeezing your thighs together, far too distracted by how tall he is than to notice the smug smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips. 
“Would you say that you’ve… settled here?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of something you find difficult to decipher.  
He slowly stalks around the desk, the tips of his leather-clad fingers smoothly gliding over the dark wood. His eye lingers on your face, taking you in and assessing your reaction. His expression holds the same edge of darkness his voice does, though he isn’t hiding it as effectively as he thinks he is this time. 
Your eyes never leave his frame when he comes to stand next to you, leaning back against the desk. He’s gripping the edge of it, and even in the dim light of the candles, you notice that it’s rather tightly, almost as if he’s suppressing the urge to touch you. 
“Well, I suppose I’ve managed to adjust,” you reply. 
For a brief moment, neither of you says anything. He just stares at you with this cold precision – until you catch his eye flitting lower, trailing over your form. 
The purple gown you wear isn’t revealing at all, not that Ms. Misery would allow you to wear anything of that sort anyways. The neckline is squared with raised yet off-the-shoulder structured shoulders that leave little to the imagination – but only if you’ve been touch deprived for long enough.
And, judging by the way his jaw clenches as his eye meets yours again, you can tell it’s also been a while for him. 
The thought of it makes your blood run hot, the warmth now spreading to your cheeks. Your gaze falls to your lap, watching your fingers fumble with each other while you feel his bore into your frame. 
There’s a hum rumbling in his chest once again, but this time it sounds more like a purr, as if he finds satisfaction in your nervousness. “Are you normally this flustered in front of men… or is it just me?”
A sudden rush of excitement and embarrassment floods your veins as your mind processes his words; your head snaps back up to look at him, and you’re greeted by a teasing grin. 
“I’m not flustered,” you reply, your voice only wavering slightly, yet you know that it’s clear to him that you’re not being very honest. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you. 
He tsks, a dangerous glint in his eye. “I mean, I can see you,” he says, gesturing to you with his hand. “You’re licking your lips, you can’t meet my eyes for more than a few seconds, your cheeks are flushed – it’s clear your body yearns to be touched…” he trails off, smirking to himself as he briefly glances to the ground. “... by me.”
His statement catches you off-guard. A quick exhale from your nose leaves you feeling winded with the sensations of butterflies wreaking havoc within your body. 
The silence between you lingers, heavy and thick as you ponder over his words, and you decide to go all in. You glance at him sideways, before speaking. “Is that so?”
His eye darkens at your coy demeanor, and with the corners of his quirking up into a sly smirk, he reveals just a glimpse of the devil that lurks beneath the angelic exterior. “Oh, it is,” he replies with a mocking tone. “I know you’re getting off to the thoughts of me at night, sweet thing. And even right now, you’re dripping for me. It’s almost pathetic.”
He almost seems relieved as he finally reaches to trace a gentle line over your exposed shoulder, starting at the crook of your neck. His light touch and the coldness of his gloves cause you to shiver involuntarily, and makes your breathing heavy. 
As if he’s searching for something within yours, his eye narrows, and your mind races with the possibility of what such a look might signify. 
“Look at you,” he purrs, licking his pouty lips. “You’re sitting here, just waiting for me to take things a step further – all the while I could smell that sweet pussy of yours ever since I’ve stepped into the room.”
Your mouth goes dry at his words, making it difficult to swallow, and you feel yourself clench around nothing; the urge to squirm in your seat is nearly overwhelming. 
“That sweet scent of yours…” he trails off. Mesmerized by his words and confidence, you almost flinch when he pushes himself off the desk, slowly kneeling down to be on a level with you, hovering close to you like a predator pretending to pounce. 
Your breath is heavy, and with your body still facing the desk, you’re forced to turn your head to the side to meet his gaze. There are mere inches between your faces now, and you feel his minty breath fan over your lips, swollen from how often you've licked them at this point. 
He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, and heat follows where the cold leather of his gloves ghosted over your skin. “So desperate to be touched… to be filled,” he hums. While embarrassment blossoms inside of you, there’s no amusement laced within his silky voice. It’s as if he’s just stating facts. “Or am I mistaken?” Your name topples past his lips with so much ease, it makes you imagine how it would sound moaned by him.
Your head begins to swim. His scent, his domineering aura, the warmth emanating off of him – it’s all too much and not enough. 
Meekly shaking your head, the ‘no’ you reply comes out not louder than a whisper. 
He takes in a quick breath of air, relishing in his victory. The way you submit to him, to his power and dominance, feeds something within him; a hunger that’s been growing more and more demanding from the moment he stepped into the room with you. 
“Good girl,” he purrs, slowly rising to his full height, stretching his fingers as he keeps his eye locked on you. A flush spreads over your cheeks at his praise, the subconscious urge to make him proud sending a shiver of excitement through your veins, feeding right into your desire to please him. 
He’s standing again, letting his eye drift over your sitting frame for a moment too long, trailing down your neck, over the curves of your breasts, and settling in your lap. A gloved hand comes forward to pinch the skirts of your gown between his fingers, an almost disgusted look on his features. 
“Take it off.”
“W-What?” 
“W-w-what?” he mocks, the scoff he releases filling you with shame. “Take it off,” he repeats. “Or else I will take it off of you, and that won’t be any more pleasant.”
The thought of him undressing you seems tempting. A small part of you wants to protest, to say something along the lines of ‘you can’t just demand something like this’ but the other part craves this. It feels as if it’s quintessential for your body to survive, not able to go one day longer without being touched at all. 
Rising to your feet, you smooth out the skirts of your dress before craning your neck to look up at him. He’s towering over you, hardly stepping back far enough to create any space for you to undress. 
Having always been a bit of a pain to put on, getting out of the dress was even worse. The tight fit and squared neckline leaves you with very limited mobility, meaning you’re always relying on a servant to help you get out of it. And facing these difficulties, the thought of removing it all by yourself, especially in front of him, seems almost sacrilegious. 
A thought pops into your mind, and your body is quick enough to get through with it before you can even think about it properly. 
“Care to help me?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. Before he can refuse, you brush your hair over one shoulder and turn around, presenting him with your back and the tightly laced corset. 
Much to your surprise, he doesn’t refuse, and you say nothing as his fingers find the lacing of your corset, gloves brushing your skin as he slowly undos the laces. 
It’s a slow process, one that builds anticipation within you, and has you squeezing your thighs together yet again. 
His caresses are light and careful at first, but they grow increasingly firm and forceful. Each tug and pull draws you closer to him, and only when you hear the same dismissive hum rumbling in his chest do you dare to glimpse at him from over your shoulder, seeing him staring at your back with his jaw set with a new purpose. 
The fabric is still pinched between his fingers when they suddenly change course, gripping the purple fabric around the lace with a bit more force than necessary. He rips open the corset in a single, harsh motion in a clear display of his impatience, the torn fabric hitting the ground with a thud, and your gown quickly follows suit. 
For a moment, you feel relief at being freed from its confines. But it’s fleeting, your skin immediately prickling as you become aware of how much of your body is exposed to him now. 
It’s weird to think that this thin layer of modesty has been enough to keep your fluttering nerves at bay, and now it’s peeled away with you knowing he’s gazing at you as if he’s been served his first meal in months. 
Easing your trembling legs, you hold onto the desk for support. It feels like an eternity as you crouch forward slightly to steady your uneven breathing, the moment only breaking as he advances towards you, his body leaning against yours and pressing you up against the desk. It’s the only thing keeping you upright, and the moment you feel his hot breath caress your neck, your legs feel like they are about to give in. 
His thigh slips between yours, but you can’t feel his hands on your body, assuming he’s clasped them behind his back or kept them at his sides. You can tell that his chest isn’t the only firm thing that presses against your body, his cock rock hard and all but straining against your lower back, clearly finding as much pleasure in the situation as you do.
His proximity is all you’ve thought of for the past days, yet it’s not enough. You need his hands, him, to feel thoroughly satisfied. The urge to whine scratches in your throat, but you manage to swallow it at the last moment. 
“Beg for me to touch you,” he drawls, voice laced with a mixture of excitement and hunger. 
Exhaling a strained breath, you close your eyes. “P-Please,” you whimper, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Please… touch me. It’s been so long.”
“Hm.” You hear it loud and clear, the amusement, the satisfaction, causing your skin to heat up. “That’s all you’ve got?”
You tip your head back in frustration, meeting with his shoulder, a loud huff slipping past your lips. But you’re so close to getting what you want, there’s no way you’re giving up already. 
“Please, please touch me… Mr. Targaryen.” His name is spoken with a bit of hesitation. “I-I- please, fuck, need it so, so bad. Please.” That you’re not stomping your feet on the ground like an insolent child is everything, knowing it would push your chance for relief further away. 
But it seems to do the trick, because one gloved hand settles on your hip without him saying anything, while the other clasps around the outside of your thigh, his thumb brushing smooth patterns over your hot skin. 
He drags his nose along the side of your face, his breath tickling your skin, and you slightly turn your head to lean into it. “Where else do you want me to touch, mh?”
Feeling him on every inch of your body has you far too aroused to be frustrated by his on-going teasing and stalling. “Right…” you pant, peeling his hand from your hip to bring it down between your legs, “... here.”
A quiet whine slips past your lips as his fingers make contact with your sensitive clit, the cold leather of his gloves against your hot skin striking you as a welcome surprise and sending a shiver down your spine. It feels foreign, but nice nevertheless.  
You’ve fully anticipated him to pull back again, to leave you high and dry, but he surprises you again, when he drags his fingers through your swollen folds. 
“Right here, mh?” he purrs into your ear with a husky voice. 
It’s a grazing touch that alone is enough to make your mind hazy, merely humming in return. 
He’s not doing more than rubbing your clit and brushing his digits through your folds, but you’re wet enough already for it to be audible. The squelching sounds coming from between your legs are embarrassing, clearly highlighting your desperation for him, and it only gets worse when he slips a finger inside of you. 
Taking in a sharp breath, you hold onto the desk again. “God, fuck,” you whine. 
His finger is thick enough to be accompanied with a slight burning stretch, intensifying the moment he adds another. You can’t resist the urge to grind against his hand, the base of it applying just enough pressure to your clit to numb any discomfort. 
“You like that, mh?” he rasps. “So fucking wet and desperate for my fingers, dripping all over my glove.”
A string of whiny yesses leaves your lips as the pace of his fingers increases, making it incredibly difficult for your hips to maintain the rhythm. 
Heavy breaths and pants fan over your flushed skin, spurring you on and bringing you closer to the sweet relief you’ve craved for so long. He seems to sense your impending orgasm, and works you just a moment longer, before he withdraws his fingers from you, making sure the loss would make it even worse. 
But there’s no time to whine. 
“Look at the mess you’ve made,” he teases, acting as if he’s completely oblivious to the torture he puts you through, and brings his gloved hand up to your face. 
The red leather is covered in your arousal, sticky and glistening even in the dim light. As he spreads the two fingers, a few strings of it connect the leather, and you bite your bottom lip, knowing all too well what might follow. 
“Open your mouth, pet,” he commands in a stern voice. “Clean up your mess.” 
And you comply, parting your lips and eagerly embracing him pushing them inside. Your tongue swirls around the digits, the leather tasting and feeling completely different on your tongue. 
You hardly notice that his other hand has left your thigh, and even less that he’s undoing the zipper of his slacks, pulling out his hard cock. Only when you feel the pressure against your entrance do your eyes widen, and you whine around his fingers as he pushes inside. 
Even though you are stretched from his digits, it can not compare to his cock. 
He’s filling you to the brim in one, swift thrust, and with you being gagged by his gloved fingers, you can’t do more than mewl and moan. “Fuck, tight cunt taking my cock, hm? That’s it, such a good, little pet.”
Not giving you the chance to adjust to his size, he sets up a reckless pace from the very start, his impatience running thin with the way your tightness embraces him. He fucks you as if it’s a one time thing, as if you won’t make the cut, but something inside of you tells you this is merely the beginning. 
Saliva trickles down your chin as his cock drives deeper and deeper, forcing moan after moan past your lips and his gloved fingers. It’s the sounds of skin slapping against skin, his strained grunts and your muffled whines filling the room, and if Ms. Misery were to find out, you would be tortured or killed even before the next day arrived. 
Maybe it’s the risk of being caught that drives him to his next step, but he withdraws his fingers from your mouth, gloved hand coming down to rest around your throat instead. He applies just a bit of pressure, merely meaning to hold you upright and steady to make it easier for him to use you to his liking.
You scramble for hold, sweaty palms planted flatly on the wooden surface in front of you, supporting yourself as the man behind you all but fucked every coherent thought out of your brain. 
“Look at you,” he grunts, pounding into your needy cunt. The tip of his cock brushes your sweet spot, pushing high enough to knock the air out of your lungs and make you lose yourself. “All you’ve been thinking about was my cock. So desperate to be fucked by me, huh?”
You are so full with him, his scent, his warmth, everything, that breathy whines and yesses are the only things slipping past your lips. 
He drags his nose along the side of your face, clearly relishing in the way he’s fucked you dumb with so little effort already, and you almost feel yourself come on spot the moment he presses his lips to your earlobe. 
Pushing his hips all the way into yours, he stills them for a moment, bringing up a gloved hand to spit on his fingers and before dragging them harshly over your sensitive clit, and putting you straight into a frenzy. 
The tears that were brimming in your eyes now spill and run down your flushed cheeks, hitting the desk he has you hunched over. 
“No need to cry, pet,” the man behind you drawls, a satisfaction weaved in his husky voice. “You wanted this, didn't you? Wanted my cock to fuck you stupid? Or do you want me to stop?”
Your blank mind barely processes his words, but just hearing the word stop has you finding your voice again. “N-no,” you whine, arching your back and pressing your ass back against him. “Don’t-don’t stop, Sir. ‘M so, so close.”
“Close, mh? Then fucking come for me.”
With his hand now applying a good bit of pressure to your throat and his fingers strumming your clit in a reckless pattern, you feel yourself getting lightheaded as your release hits you suddenly. 
His strained groans are hushed against your neck as you spasm around him, sucking him in hungrily. He works you through it, fucking you as you quiver and shake. Grinding against him, you ride your high out in rhythm with his thrusts, gasping each time his cock pistones inside of you. 
His hips falter slightly for a moment, caught off guard by how tightly your walls are squeezing him, but he regains his composure and sets up a brutal pace again. You’re swollen and raw by now, but he doesn't stop. 
“That’s it, fuck, I’m gonna get this pathetic cunt stuffed with my cum,” he grunts, pulling his hand from your clit to plant it on your hip. 
Each rut of his hips makes your eyes journey to the ceiling, the tears on your cheeks now dry. There are hiccuped breaths spilling from your mouth, and you can’t do more than to hold onto the desk, bracing yourself for his relentless pounding. 
With a stutter of his hips and a raspy groan escaping his throat, his cock eventually spills deep inside of you, coating your walls. He fucks it into you with deliberately slow thrusts, the last spurts of his warm release filling you to the brim.
A strained groan is audible as he pulls out, tucking himself back in his slacks, and assumes the cold demeanor he’s had before. The only courtesy he grants you is picking up your dress and underwear he’s torn off you before, holding it out for you to take. 
You get the cue, and dress yourself on trembling legs. The blonde watches curiously, leaning back against the desk again. The red gloves now lay on the desk, and you catch a glimpse of his long, ring-clad fingers. 
With flushed cheeks, you briefly look at the ground before presenting him your back again. “Do you mind?” 
He nods and steps towards you, silently lacing up your corset, and whenever his skin brushes yours, a shiver runs down your spine. His skin is soft, smooth even, and the warmth emanating from them is far more pleasant than the cold leather.
But the moment is fleeting as he quickly moves to sit down behind his desk again, a new file already pinched between his fingers. You smoothen out the skirt of your dress, merely bowing your head once, and make a beeline for the door. 
It’s his voice ringing out that stops you in your tracks, though you don’t dare to turn around. 
“I expect you to come back for your second interview tomorrow. See it as an opportunity for me to gauge whether or not you truly have the right… ambition.”
“Thank you, Mr. Targaryen,” you mumble in return, a strange sense of satisfaction and anticipation already coursing through your veins. 
Hearing your name once again, you turn your head to look at him. “There’s no need to be formal when it’s just us. You can call me Aemond.”
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
Text
oh love, i'm terrified
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is terrifying'
rated t | 1,585 words | cw: negative self views | tags: falling in love, getting together, love confessions, sappy and fluffy
💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗
He thought he was being obvious.
He doesn't do this stuff for everyone else. He doesn't show up after work to hang out for no reason other than just wanting to be around the other person. He doesn't talk on the phone for three hours in the middle of the night to comfort the other person after nightmares. He doesn't fucking stargaze with anyone.
But with Eddie he does. Steve always goes out of his way for Eddie.
He knows why, and he feels like everyone can see it too: he loves him.
But somehow, Eddie doesn't see it, or chooses not to.
Even Dustin, oblivious to human emotion as anyone else Steve's ever met, pulled him aside after Hellfire one night --yes, he even attends Hellfire now-- to ask if he knew he was flirting with Eddie so much.
Robin and Nancy had called him out on two different occasions for touching him too much in public, but he hadn't even realized his hand had gone to his waist!
And Eddie still seemed clueless.
Or at least, most of the time he seemed clueless.
Sometimes, though, Steve could swear he looked at him in a specific way, a way that Steve would think is understanding and maybe even returned feelings. But he never said anything, never did anything out of the ordinary for Eddie.
Months of wondering what the hell he could do differently, months of being less and less subtle every day, months of showing how much he loved him without actually saying it.
All for Eddie to still be oblivious.
But not tonight,
Tonight, he was going to Eddie's to have dinner and watch a movie. Wayne was on a fishing trip with his buddies from work, and all the kids were at the same summer camp, probably torturing underpaid teenage counselors.
No interruptions were possible.
He could bring out all his moves, and if Eddie still didn't get it by the end of the night, maybe he could even use his words.
"Dinner's almost ready!" Eddie yelled from the kitchen as Steve let himself in. "I didn't burn anything!"
Steve rolled his eyes fondly. "Sounds like something someone who burnt dinner would say."
"I didn't! I mean one edge is a little crispy on the lasagna, but I think that's because our oven is older than Wayne. You think the government could've given us a better oven for my troubles, but apparently not," Eddie turned to Steve standing in the doorway. "You look...nice."
Steve always liked to look nice, but he'd decided to dress up a little bit tonight, try to make his intentions clear right from the start. His hair was done as usual, but he was wearing his khaki slacks instead of jeans and his nicest navy polo instead of the t-shirts he'd mostly been wearing outside of work. He even sprung for his watch that his dad gave him as a graduation gift. He hated to know how much money was wasted on it, but it did look nice.
"Thanks. You do too," Steve replied.
Eddie looked down at his own clothes and back up at Steve. "Dude, I'm wearing sweats and a t-shirt that has more holes than cloth. You don't have to lie."
"I'm not lying. You always look best when you're comfy," Steve shrugged. "Need help with anything?"
Eddie shook his head. "Not unless you wanna grab beers from the fridge. I forgot to get some this afternoon so they're just Wayne's PBRs, but a cold beer's a good beer, right?"
"Right," Steve agreed, walking to the fridge to grab the beers.
Dinner went as dinner usually does, except they actually sat at the table this time instead of the couch. Eddie seemed surprised when Steve set his things down in front of the chair he only sat in to keep Eddie company while he planned for campaigns, but just silently joined him.
They talked and joked, they made themselves laugh so hard beer almost came out of Eddie's nose. It was perfect.
After, Steve started working on the dishes, Eddie standing by the counter watching.
He was quiet, which was unusual, especially when no one else was around to fill the silence.
"Everything okay, Eds?" Steve asked as he scrubbed a particularly difficult area on a fork.
"What? Oh. Yeah."
Steve turned to look at him, suddenly worried when he saw Eddie's face turned down to the floor. This wasn't them. They'd just had a nice dinner, and now Eddie was being...shy?
Now was his chance. He could say it. Robin would be proud of him for finally just doing it.
Hell, he'd be proud of himself for doing it.
But something seemed wrong, and the last thing Steve wanted was to turn a good night bad because he couldn't reign in his feelings for a bit.
He wiped his hands on the towel by the sink and turned fully towards Eddie.
"What's wrong?"
Eddie shook his head once, then sighed. "I kind of feel like I've been wined and dined tonight. And that's ridiculous because you're just one of my best friends, and you're straight, and it's all been in my head for months, but-"
"Woah. Wait." Steve interrupted. "You've been noticing that for months? And you didn't say anything?"
"Well, no. I didn't wanna ruin our friendship because I can't handle my own hopes getting up." Eddie leaned away from Steve further. "I know you don't mean it that way. I don't want you to change anything."
"Eds-"
"And if you do want to, that's fine! Whatever would make you comfortable. I just have to say it's feeling very 'I have romantic feelings' for you territory and I know you don't so."
"Eddie."
"I'm also not good at that though. No one's ever shown interest in me other than one girl in high school who ended up moving away a week later so I didn't even have to break her heart."
Steve crashed his lips to Eddie's, half hoping it would shut him up, and half hoping he would somehow keep rambling. He kind of loved watching him ramble.
It did shut him up. Even when Steve pulled away, Eddie's silence was deafening.
"Sorry. I should've asked if I could first, but I don't think you would have even heard me. Was that okay?" Steve asked.
"Why did you do that?" Eddie sounded heartbroken.
That's not what Steve wanted at all.
"I wanted to. I have wanted to."
"No you don't."
This was not going the way Steve had hoped for. "How would you know I don't?"
"Because I'm me! I'm just the dude who gets the good weed, and says funny shit, and cooks dinner sometimes. I'm not a girl Steve Harrington falls in love with, or even takes on a date. I'm not the type you build a relationship and future with. I'm just the guy who gets to watch everyone else do that. I'm not good for that."
"What the hell do you mean?" Steve was angry now. Who had convinced Eddie he couldn't have good things, couldn't be loved or love someone, couldn't be important? "You're Eddie Munson. You saved us all from an evil wizard dude and nearly died doing it. You're the guy who makes me a sandwich when I come over for Hellfire even though there's strict no eating during the campaign rules because you know I've been working all day and need to eat. You turn all my bad days good, and make my life better just because you're you."
"Steve-"
"My turn." Steve crowded him against the counter, hands cupping his cheeks and eyes boring into Eddie's. "I need you to understand something. I've been trying to show how much I care about you, how much I love you, for months, and I've been thinking I've just been terrible at it. I thought I truly did lose all my charm. I've been pulling all my moves out for you. I was starting to think maybe you just were trying to ignore it all to let me down easy, but it isn't that. It's because you don't see how fucking amazing you are, isn't it?"
Eddie's eyes were shining with unshed tears.
"Because you are. You're incredible. Maybe the best person I've ever known other than Robin. I find excuses to be near you. I find reasons to talk to you. I didn't even have a nightmare the other night, I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm in love with you. Like, the real stupid, do anything for you even if it hurts me kind. And if you don't feel anything for me besides friendship, I'll leave right now and I'll do my best to get over it so we can be friends."
"And if I do?"
"If you do love me, then you should kiss me."
"I've never kissed anyone."
"That's not true. We kissed two minutes ago," Steve smirked, his heart racing in his chest.
"I'm scared," Eddie's whispered admittance nearly broke Steve's heart.
"Oh love, I'm terrified. Love is like that. But we've faced scarier things, haven't we?"
Eddie's soft lips against his own was the only answer he needed.
Love was terrifying, even for Steve, maybe especially for Steve, who was used to giving a lot more love than he received back. But as they kissed in Eddie's kitchen for seconds that turned to minutes, minutes that turned to hours, they got just a bit less scared.
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clockwayswrites · 5 months
Text
A Broken Sort of Normal- Part 19
WC: 2134, Masterpost
Danny sit up straighter in his chair as he states his name, but Wally can see the wince that Danny tries to hide. Absently, Wally runs through Danny’s schedule of care and when the other will be able to have more pain medication.
“Were you born with powers?” Bruce continues.
“No.”
Wally wants to go to Danny. He wants to tell him that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that Danny has powers. It doesn’t mater how he got them. It doesn’t matter that Wally didn’t know. None of it matters to Wally; he’s just glad that Danny is still here.
“Are you comfortable explaining how did you got your powers?”
Danny runs his hand through his hair. He’s nervous. “Some of it. The broad strokes. It was a lab accident, because of course there was. My parents are ecto scientists, they study ghosts. They’re not… let’s just say don’t read their research into ghostly behavior. They are brilliant engineers though. They managed to build a portal to the Infinite Realms—”
“Minging knobheads,” John curses quietly.
“—and I was sorta in the portal when it turned on. Which, um, killed me and revived me at the same time. I was electrocuted while my system was flooded with ectoplasm.”
Killed.
Danny had— Danny had died. Again, before, Danny had died. Wally closed his eyes and swallowed around the catch in his throat. He almost never got the chance to know Danny. A hand fit into his and Wally knows instantly that it’s Dick’s. He grips it back tightly. At least he isn’t listening to this alone.
“It’s not so much that I got powers, as that because I’m half dead, I’m half ghost and I can do the things that ghosts can do. Invisibility, intangibility, flight… things like that. Long story short, someone had to stop the ghosts that the portal let through—”
John is up and pacing now. Zatanna doesn’t even try to stop him.
“—so I sort of became the town hero. I went by Phantom. It was… well, you’ve all been there.”
God, Wally wishes Danny didn’t know how that was.
“Kid… did you even have anyone to help you?” Barry asks.
Danny shrugs. “Two friends and eventually Ja… my older sister.. There are a few ghosts that were sometimes allies but ghosts…”
“Ghosts aren’t good or evil, they’ve got obsessions,” John explains into the silence. “Sometimes those obsessions motivate the ghosts in a way that seems one way or another. It only works out for you as long as your needs aligns with their obsession.”
Wally’s mind spins.
“Danny,” Bruce asks with very careful words, “do you have an obsession?”
He searches back through his memories of Danny.
“Yes.”
It couldn’t be anything anyone would see as bad or dangerous.
“Protection. My obsession is protection. It’s not as compelling to me as it is for a full ghost. For me it’s more like a hunger craving or itch, but it is there. It’s a good part of why I became a paramedic.”
Oh. That made so much sense.
“That’s our Danny,” Danna says, softly, from in their group.
“Why did you not simply join us as a hero?” Diana asks.
“Before, well, things were… complicated? There’s this government agency that considers ghosts non-sentient and—”
Danny jerks back in his chair at all the exclamations that rang out in the room at that. It isn’t just a reaction to the sudden noise, Wally realizes, Danny looks startled at being defended.
It breaks Wally’s heart.
“It’s okay!” Danny says over the din. “They were always pretty incompetent, really, even when working with my parents. I never even ended up vivisected or anything!”
Gar clamps a hand over his mouth and mutters. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Danny,” Dianna says his name gently, “have your parents ever attacked you?”
“They don’t know I’m a halfa. They don’t know I’m Phantom,” Danny says. There’s a pleading note to his voice that makes Wally agree with Gar; he’s going to be sick.
“But they’ve attacked Phantom,” Dianna says. It’s not a question, but Danny nods anyways. “Danny, do we need to set up protection for you from your parents?”
“They don’t know—”
“Kid,” Barry interrupts, “what you did was on the news. Like, every news station across the world. I think they know now.”
Danny sits back in his chair. He picks at the already frayed edge of the hoodie. Suddenly he looks small in a way that Wally’s only seen when Danny’s been in the middle of a panic attack. Any strength Danny’s gathered the last few days seems to leave him as his shoulders slump. “Maybe. I guess… I don’t know how they’ll take the news. It’s… maybe. We’ll, um, more than that someone needs to make sure the portal stays closed down. If the ghosts start coming through again…”
The hand Danny presses against his chest shakes. “I’m not as strong as I used to be. I don’t know if my powers will come back still or if this… is what I am now, but my core is weaker than it used to be. If this the way I’ll be now, I won’t be able to fight them off.”
“Are they dangerous?” Bruce asks. “Beyond the morality of their obsession, are they actively dangerous to you?”
“That’s not an easy question. Mostly the ghosts used Amity Park as a new way to fulfill their obsessions. Lunch Lady wants to feed people, which is good, but if you don’t want to eat things can get nasty. Obsessions are like that, they can twist quickly. The ghosts also just like to brawl, a lot of them at least. Some of them would understand if I can’t and back off, but there are others… take Skulker,” Danny says with a wave of his hand, “his obsession is hunting rare game and, well, I’m rare game. He wants to mount my pelt to his wall.”
With an unpleasant noise, Gar dashes from the room. It makes Danny wince and mumble an apology.
Wally is already mentally calling favors to call in to safeguard their apartment, not that he thinks anyone will say no to protecting Danny.
“We’ll make checking on the portal a priority as soon as this meeting is done,” Bruce assures Danny.
“Thank you. I don’t want anyone to be hurt if it gets turned back on.”
“Why has it been off? If it’s off, why would they turn it back on now?” John asks, still pacing.
Danny looks away from the table again. “Because they remember now.”
“The curse?” John asks at the same time Bary asks, “What do you mean remember?”
“I mean they forgot, because, yeah, the curse,” Danny says. He’s back to picking at his sleeve. Everyone gives him time to try and find his words, which he does with a wet laugh. “I was stupid. I mean, I was young, but I still should have known better. I was just… I was having a hard time. My parents were working on a new GIW contract and my friends… team were going off to college… I was going to be alone to deal with the ghosts. I still should have known better. I just wished I could be normal.”
“That’s not wrong, Danny,” Barry says. “We’ve all felt that sometime…”
Danny’s shaking his head. “You don’t understand. You don’t wish in Amity Park.”
“Because of this Desiree?” Zatanna asks.
“Because of Desiree,” Danny confirms. “Some ghosts have very specific powers and those are usually strong powers. For Desiree, it’s… it was reality altering based on wishes. I forgot to never say ‘I wish’.”
After a moment of comprehending silence, Diana asks, “She had the power to make you fully human?”
“No, even borrowing power like I think she did, Desiree couldn’t do that. But that’s not what she needed to do. Normal isn’t a real thing, it’s just societal, you know? She just had to make sure no one remembered I was half dead and, tada, I had a normal life.”
John finally stops pacing and leans against the back of his chair. His cigarette is a mangled mess dangling from his lips. “What was the catch?”
“I wanted to be normal, so I had to stay normal. I couldn’t be noticed using any of my powers or being too ghostly or tell anyone I had died or what things used to be like. If I did— well you all saw what happened,” Danny looks up, finally, right at Wally. “It’s why I couldn’t tell any of you, even if I wanted too. It’s why I couldn’t use my powers to help. As soon as I did, I was good as dead.”
More than ever Wally wants to rush over to Danny’s side. He wants to let Danny know it’s alright that he kept this secret. It doesn’t matter. He settles for what he hopes is a reassuring smile.
“I still don’t know how I survived. As soon as Desiree appeared and took my powers, that should have been it for me. My ghost half can’t survive without them and my human half isn’t alive enough to last by itself. It would be like cutting off a normal person’s oxygen. I should have been ended.”
“We overloaded her,” Zatanna explains.
“Forced all your power— which there was a fucking lot of it— into her at once,” John finished. “She popped like a balloon with too much air.”
“Did you have to describe it that way?” Hal grumbles.
“Oh.” Danny blinks a few times as he took that in. “I guess, okay. I mean, yeah, I was more powerful than a lot of ghosts; something about being a halfa and my state being mutable still. I didn’t think though… right, okay. But how am I still here?”
“When she popped,” John says with a smirk towards Hal, “the air was full of ambient ectoplasm. Flash zapped you, re-started your heart, and the cloud went up like a match in a fart.”
Danny’s face wrinkled up at that. “Ew. But, alright. I mean it was my power first. I guess that…” Danny’s hand comes up to press over his sternum. “I guess that means this is my power level now.”
“And the rest of the curse?” Zatanna asks, leaning forward in her seat.
“Gone. People remember now.”
Wally thought to all the phone messages Danny had been getting in a new light.
“That’s why we need to make sure the portal is closed.”
“As well as that the GIW are shut down and that your parents do not try to harm you,” Diana says with that firm certainty of hers.
“Right,” Danny says after a beat. It’s hard to see how clearly Danny doesn’t consider himself a priority. “And… for the rest of it all?”
Diana tilts her head in question. “The rest of it?”
“I didn’t tell anyone my status. I lied to some of you. Is that…”
“You did what you needed to stay alive and hurt no one.” She holds up a hand to stop any protests from Danny. “While I have no doubt with your heart as it is you do not wish you could have done more, it would have never been asked of you at the cost of your life. You are a hero, Danny, and have been since you joined the Response Team in Central City. You have only continued to prove it by your willingness to act and the honor with which you did so. The Justice League is proud to still have you as your post, as soon as you are recovered.”
Finally the last of the tension drains Danny’s shoulders. “I’ll be happy to get back to it.”
Wally tunes Diana out as she wraps up the meeting.
“I’m going to ask him,” Wally says to Dick, who still has his hand.
“What? Now?” Dick hisses.
Wally watches as Danny shakes Clark’s hand. “Why not? Everyone’s here, like you said had to be.”
“Because it’s a debrief! That’s not exactly the most romantic moment.”
The other Titans are standing around them, waiting for their chance to see Danny. Even Gar is back.
“I almost missed my chance, N. I almost never got to ask,” Wally pleads. “I don’t want to miss it again.”
Dick just sighs and pulls a small case out of his belt. He presses it into their clasped hands before releasing his grip
Wally can feel the smile stretching across his face. “You know me so well.”
Dick just shoves Wally off his chair. “Go get your man. Ghost? Man ghost.”
Laughing, Wally fumbles to his feet and towards Danny.
“Danny!”
Danny who’s still here and alive.
Who smiles like the sun as he turns towards Wally.
“Yes?”
---
AN: I don't know, is it too cruel to end right there? 😇 Don't worry, we'll get an epilogue to hopefully tie the loose ends up in a bow! But this is the last half of the last full chapter! They know! And they still respect and love Danny. He can stop worrying~
You can subscribe to the masterpost here.
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dilfartist · 11 months
Text
Missed - short (pt.2)
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Pairing; Yandere Las Plagas Leon Kennedy x reader
Synopsis; it’s the week after Leon’s attack and the scientists examining and aiding Leon, need your assistance.
Reader description; Female/GN
Word count; 1k
TW; Dead dove do not eat, non-con, there isn’t really a smut scene, depends on how you interpret it, nonconsensual touching, messed up shit, ooc Leon. NSFW. Also tagged everyone who wanted to be tagged but its acting weird so few may not be notified.
!Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!
Nothing seems real to you anymore.
Your boyfriend working for the government was more than enough news to handle, but Leon obtaining some parasite, becoming one himself understandably tended to hurt your head.
After last week's events, you come by daily. While they did request this of you, you would have done it anyways.
Every day you wake then drive straight to the facility holding him; never missing a day. And with each passing day, he grows worse. His body changed, sprouting more veins than the last time you saw him. He looks lifeless. His baby blue eyes are now a piercing ruby color, that stare into your soul.
Leon as a person has altered. He’s more touchy, touching you anytime he can. Leon doesn’t care for your opinion, or consent on the matter. Not anymore. Aggression is a main part of his personality now. While Leon was rarely aggressive with you, it still terrified you to see him throw a tantrum and nearly rip out a security guard’s throat because you wanted to leave early.
His presence alone has grown suffocating. And You’re starting to get uncomfortable just being around him.
And the experimenters monitoring Leon aren't helping. They only ever approve of you around to gather intel. Sometimes they’ll guilt you into staying in his enclosure, observing his actions on the other side of a double mirror. Other times they’d full-on pay you to spend five or more hours with Leon. Of course, you’d have no issues if Leon acted like his old self. But that was the issue. He wasn't himself anymore.
It’s currently two o’clock and you’re attending Leon’s daily visits.
“We have one more experiment we’d like to run on Leon, but we need your help to explore what we’d like to explore.”
You nod, observing Leon from the other side of the double mirror. Leon sits crisscrossed next to a large television watching MTV mindlessly, gnawing on a slice of pizza. Leon sports grey sweatpants and a slight sauce messy white tee.
You turn your head finally providing your attention to the scientist beside you, “What is it?” you questioned.
She fixed her glasses to look down at her clipboard, “Well, Leon has been very emotional lately. We’d appreciate it if you’d go inside and just talk with him.”
You lift an eyebrow looking at her septically, “Is that all?”
She nods. “Yes, that is all. You know he only communicates with you.”
“Alright then.”
You enter Leon’s isolation when the door slides open. Leon’s room contained paper-white walls, an extensive mirror, both a couch and bed on opposite sides of each other, a television, and a bathroom area. It felt like a zoo enclosure.
Leon took a minute to glance your way. He was too captivated by the flashing images on the television. Wanting to get the interaction over with, you called out for him. “Leon.”
Leon’s eyes darted in your direction. “(Name)!” he jumped up, jogging over to you. He hugged you tightly, running kisses up and down your neck. You're frozen in an awkward position, “Hey, missed you too, Lee.”
Leon ceases his kissing, pulling away from your neck to look you in the eyes. “Been wondering when’s the next time you’d visit.”
You chuckle, “I visit every day, Leon.”
“It feels like an eternity when you're not around.”
Leon and you lay on the couch, Leon resting his head on top of your chest. You held him close, staring at the ceiling. For abeat there was a pregnant silence, the both of you focusing on each other’s company. Then Leon spoke. Leon asked about your life: how was work? Was anything new happing? Any recent drama. He yearned for a bit of normalcy. Wanted to forget about Spain. Just wanted his main reflections on you.
Since Leon’s trip nothing was the same, not for him. Not for you. While, yes, his normal life ended after the raccoon city incident, he managed to somehow have a- what would you call it? Semi-normal life. Living with you at least.
But now it was gone. The las plazas had terminated any chance of normality for Leon. And if by chance the government’s scientists somehow cured Leon of his parasite, he’d still be left with the side effects of retaining the Las plagas for as long as he did.
Leon’s body had changed in such drastic ways. And his main concern was the upsurge in his libido.
Hours and hours he’d fist his cock, mulling on the times you’ve sucked his cock. No matter how hard, how fast, or even the time spent he couldn't stop. It hurt too much if he did. The other day the pain didn't go away until he fainted from exhaustion. He needed you. He needed to stuff you so bad it physically pained him.
His mind was barraged with thoughts of breeding your sweet pussy. Leon wasn’t the idea of having kids with you, honestly, it thought about a lot. However, this was different. It was an obsession now. Thoughts on breeding you made him cum so quickly, it became his number one fantasy.
Laying here listening to your rambling on the next-door neighbor's fight last night, his nose picks up an ambrosial smell originating from you. You smell sweet. Oh so, so, so sweet.
Leon’s ears ring, deafening him. His eyes focus on your clothed thighs. How he missed the plush skin he used to lay on after a hard week of work. More than that, he missed planting kisses on them; earing drawled out moans of his name.
Almost like an instinct, Leon’s rough, calloused, hands griped your hips. You halt and looked down at him with curiousness. Uncertain of his next actions, you press your hands against him. Worriedly you utter his name, “Leon?”
Leon refuses to acknowledge the call of his name. His main priority being his cock beginning to stiffen in his sweats.
You swallow nervously, endeavoring to pry his hands off. “Leon, please take your hands off me.” you plead in a stern manner, to come off more as a command.
Leon shakes his head. “No,” he responded, voice trembling. “You have no idea how much I need you, (Name). It's torture not having you stroke me.” he nearly moans at the last part. He climbs up the couch to be face to face.
Leon’s eyes held an immense dose of desire as he looks at you through his eyelashes. “Please touch me, baby,” he whines. “Want ‘ya so bad!” he grips your hand, placing it near your mouth to plant a kiss.
You glance at the mirror, silently pleading for assistance. Comprehending Leon’s increase in strength, kicking him off wouldn't be an option since his grip on you tautened. “Leon, stop!”
Quickly you thought of a method of escape. You acted, moving to the side for your body to decline to the ground. Both you and Leon fell to the ground, dragging cushions with you. Immediately you are on your feet, dashing to the door. You slam your fist against the metal, bruising them in the process. You could care less. Your shouting so loud your throat starts to sting. Yet there’s no reply.
You know there are people out there! You saw at least five before entering.
Then a thought comes to mind. Did they plan this?
Leon yanks you out of your shock, slamming his body against yours. Your nose whacks against the metal, prompting a whine of pain. Akin to a vampire, Leon laches on your neck, trailing kisses up and down. He sucks, bites, and drags his tongue over the marks as his hand travels down the slit in your pants.
“Sorry, baby, can’t deny myself any longer!” he apologizes, surprisingly genuinely. You accept your fate, sobbing silently to yourself.
On the opposite side of the mirror, a group of scientists observe the interaction. They all have their clipboards out, noting down every action, movent, and emotion. A Handful of them watches in revulsion while the scene unfolds in front of them. Others treat it as any other experiment, having no sympathy for you. After all, they have no idea if you’re the worst person in existence or not.
There's one thing for certain. They’d be investigating the pregnancy of a human mother and a parasite having father.
Tagged
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wtftarot · 17 days
Text
How can you navigate your life from here on?
Thank you, @lifeofaie for suggesting this reading, I really loved the idea.
Listen, I fuckin love a good road trip, ok? And navigating on a road trip ain't that different from navigating your life. Great music and shitty snacks. Wrong turns and detours that end up being half the fun and the whole story later. Arriving later than you planned or having plans changed entirely. How it always seems like the more you try to plan and control things the more they go off the rails. What do you need to keep in mind on this road trip called life? (yes I know how dorky that was, nope I don't care, yes all of these are gonna be heavy on road trip metaphors) Consider this reading, stopping and asking a local for directions and I promise not to lead you to the den of a serial killer. What is your inner compass saying? Is it time to make a rest stop? Let's fuck around and find out.
as always this reading is for entertainment purposes only and is not a substitute for professional advice in any capacity. Remember, use common sense, and don't be a dumbass.
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Pick either the Road Stretching On, The Road to Anywhere and Nowhere, or the Road to Ol' Kentucky and head on to your reading
The Road That Stretches On
The Tower, Seven/ Swords Rx and the Magician on the bottom of the deck.
This reading is HEAVY. Some of y'all who came to this reading are dealing with some heavy mental shit. I am not a mental health professional, please seek one out. Tarot is awesome and helpful but it is not therapy.
Take a breath. I'm so fuckin serious right now. You need to breathe and clear your mind even for a second. Don't ya just love how many people come to readings and then ignore the simplest advice given? To just take a breath? ( I love y'all, but some of y'all need a lil call out every now and then) The reason why I'm pushing y'all to stop and breathe is cause y'all's mind never. fuckin. stops. does it? Never. I had to restart this reading three times, cause I just kept getting wrapped up in y'all's anxiety spiral. And, I know it's hard but if you never make a conscious decision to try and slow down and give yourself a second, it's not gonna happen. Human brains are mostly auto-pilot and if you don't try and take the reins every once in a while it'll just keep doing what it's doing. Y'all are incredibly overwhelmed by making decisions for your future. It's like you see your future like the picture you chose, a road stretching on forever that can lead to anywhere depending on the turns you make but for you there's something that could be lurking in each turn. Something you're not seeing and that is terrifying to you. Now the main contender here looks to be anxiety about the state of the world, climate change, wars, pollution, famine, natural disasters, and on and on. Like y'all seem to be thinking what's the point, everything's going to shit. Listen, I'm gonna try to be gentle but when I tell y'all I'm very passionate about this, I am downplaying so fuckin hard. A lot of people fall into this overwhelm, it's not your fault. Governments and corporations put a shit ton of effort into keeping us feeling overwhelmed, cause overwhelmed people are too drained to put up a real fight. The point of trying is you being happy. That is worth it. The point is you can spread that joy. The point is to make a difference while you can. The point is that yeah, the world may be going to hell in a handbasket and you're just one person but you are a whole ass person. Who doesn't have to take this shit lying down. You want to live your life but are terrified of what might happen if you do. You feel like the world is a scary place and it can be sometimes, but you're so scared of truly stepping into the world, you never let yourself be or do much. It's like y'all are super fuckin excited for the road trip but are so scared of what may be around any turn, you just keep going on the same road letting it take you wherever it does. To get anywhere you want to go you have to make some choices. Yea, they may not always turn out how you planned but here's the thing: You will be okay. What you need to do to navigate your life? I'm sorry, y'all are gonna hate this advice but trust yourself. Sweetie, you are so much more capable than you give yourself credit for, hell you may not have any knowledge of your full capabilities cause you've never let yourself reach them. Tarot readings can help you navigate, but all the readings in the world won't help you get anywhere if you never put your foot on the gas.
random ass vibes: I dunno if y'all forgot to eat but like I've been ravenous this whole reading, The cartoon Roadrunner, venus, tea, sunburn, flowers, 666
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The Road to Anywhere and Nowhere
The Star, the Five/Pentacles Rx and the High Priestess on the bottom of the deck.
Listen, honey. You can handle this. And you know you can. You're listening to your intuition, learning to trust yourself if you don't already. Y'all are navigating your life, you may have rough moments as we all do but y'all are learning to handle those moments with grace. I'm not gonna lie, it took me a minute to figure out why y'all are even at this reading, seems like the topic of this reading ain't something y'all need help with. And it ain't, y'all are killing it in this area. The reason y'all are here? Y'all need some encouragement. Maybe need is the wrong word, cause y'all are doing fuckin awesome either way. Deserve. That's the word. Y'all deserve some encouragement. The road you're on may be unconventional or the people around you very strongly disagree with. Or maybe they just strongly disagree with you, your identity as a person. (I dunno where "strongly disagree" is coming from but it keeps popping up in my head?) I feel like y'all have actively had people put you down and were able to power through and encourage yourselves, so you may not need others to encourage you. BUT we all deserve to be encouraged, just cause you can power through without supportive voices doesn't mean that you should have to. SO GET READY FOR SOME CHANNELED ENCOURAGEMENT MOTHERFUCKER! Y'all have been doing a fuckin amazing job moving away from shitty past situations and are not fucking giving yourselves enough credit. Yes, even if it was "just" some mental blocks. Oh, "just" a mental block are you kidding me? Do you know how hard getting over your own mental bullshit is?? Y'all are over here, learning to parkour over your mental bullshit like a goddamn ninja, acting like it's no big deal. Sweetie, that's huge, you do realize that? To be honest with yourself, call yourself on your bullshit and then do something about it? Step fuckin one of that is daunting. And I'm hearing that y'all were able to get through faster than even your guides were expecting. Honey, how powerful are you? Not only that, but y'all are learning to argue with your self-deprecating thoughts. Asking them, who gives a shit what they have to say? And taking all the energy you used to put into pushing yourself down and using it to build yourself up. That's SO fuckin badass, y'all! Talk about fuckin alchemizing shit. Y'all saw how much time and energy it was taking to keep yourself small and hurt, thought: Wonder what would happen if I used that to build myself up instead? And then you went and did it and ITS FUCKIN GORGIOUS. The blessings are gonna start rolling in with this new energy, but you already knew that. Cause motherfucker YOU are the blessing! Y'all are really embodying your own power and strength and are KICKING ASS. The last message is to let yourself rest, y'all are doing a lot. So give yourself a break, let yourself sleep in a bit later. Set aside time to just chill, you won't lose your progress while you sleep.
random ass vibes: receiving roses, worms, gardening, astronomy designs on clothes, 18, hide and seek
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The Road to Ol' Kentucky
Shout out to all my fellow Kentuckians! How y'all doing?
The Moon Rx, The Queen/Wands, the Page/Cups Rx and the Five/Wands Rx on the back of the deck
Y'all are being called to really embody yourself and your power moving forward. It seems like y'all not only have it in your head that you're a Page when you're a Queen (queen energy, not gender). You're wrong about the whole damn suit. Others may have convinced you you're being sensitive when they're being an asshole and you're pissed about it. (As if letting people talk shit about you is "weak" right?) Y'all think you're the negative aspects of the Cups: Overly emotional, flakey, manipulative, disorganized, and self-centered. When the truth is you're the positive aspects of the Wands: Passionate, creative, driven, confident, and strong-willed. Y'all are really fuckin hard on yourselves, okay? Others may have been intimidated by your strengths and convinced you they were your weaknesses. If y'all have been feeling stuck, this is why, alright? You are stuck cause you've been told that the way to get unstuck IS the reason you're stuck. Think of it like this, y'all are an airplane, convinced by cars that flying is your biggest weakness, trying to figure out why you never seem to get anywhere. Airplanes can roll around, sure but they're MADE to fly. It's time to do some hard thinking, probably back to when you were a kid. What were the things you loved and pursued, how did you pursue them and what bullshit did others say about it? Like, did you get super focused on an activity you were doing, forget about choirs or some shit, and then be called irresponsible and lazy? When you wanted something, were you the type to push and work towards it, then be called stubborn or relentless or annoying when others decided they wanted you to do something else? Because there are some good qualities y'all have that are how you're supposed to show up in the world that you're not letting yourself embody. To be clear, I'm not talking about being told you're acting like an asshole when you were, in fact acting like an asshole. I'm talking about strengths you had that were demonized to you and in an effort to be a better person you stopped using. Now they've atrophied and you've gotta work them out to get them back. Cause, listen the typical way of navigation ain't gonna work for you. Y'all can continue to roll around and try to get where you wanna go, but it's gonna be slow and a billion times harder. You ever seen an airplane trying to go down a road through town? Think a sec on on how hard that would be. Cause that's you, right now. There are no road maps for the sky, ya know? Y'all are charting your own path. You need to stop trying to make yourself follow the road map for life that others are using. It's not gonna work for you, cause it was never meant to. Y'all are on an unconventional path, the only way forward is to embrace it.
random ass vibes: Back To The Future, coffee, night owl, finding your people, reds oranges and yellows, clouds, libra, cats. Thelma and Louise
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sweatervest-obsessed · 7 months
Text
Quand Tu Voudras
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
WC: ~7.2k
TW: kissing, angst, blood, burns, cuts, bruises, arguments, crying, depression, mention of EDs, panicking, explosions, drinking, self-image issues, mentions of addiction, mentions of drug use, mentions of Maeve
A/N: Third and Final Part babyyyyyy let's GO. I'm actually excited to watch each part get its own vibes, but also be a cohesive story. I really hope you all enjoy it! Thank y'all for doing me on this crazy journey!
Dedicated to New Lovers , You're Keeping Me Down
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“If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.” ~Orson Welles
It was the most beautiful you had ever looked. 
Shopping for a wedding dress was one of the most terrifying experiences you had ever lived through, and you had been shot multiple times. 
But being surrounded by your closest friends and family members as you tried on dress after dress kept you going. 
You finally found the perfect one in a small shop outside of the DC area, hidden in a little suburb where life wasn’t as rushed as it felt. 
You tried on only three dresses at this little boutique. The second was almost perfect, and you were about to “say yes to the dress,” but someone was reorganizing the front rack, and that’s when the one you were currently wearing appeared, sent by the higher powers. 
It fits you perfectly. 
You started to cry when you saw yourself in the mirror, which caused Garcia to start crying, which caused Emily and JJ to cry, and the rest of your family quickly followed. 
So it was only natural that staring at yourself in the mirror right now made you tear up again. 
“Oh, Babe, no.” Emily was quick to fan your eyes as you tilted your head back, letting the tears melt back into your eyes. 
“I can’t help it.” You grumbled, eyes wide as you tried calming your breathing slowly. “It’s just so pretty…” 
“I know, I know. My money is on Derek crying first.” 
“Oh, please. We all know Rossi won’t stop crying the second he takes his seat.”
You had decided that the only people you wanted at the ceremony were close friends and family. That meant the team, their little ones, and each of your parents. Small. Peaceful. Intimate.
Derek was over the moon when you asked him to officiate your wedding, wanting him to be there for you in every way since that’s always been his role. 
You had taken him out for coffee under the very real guise that wedding planning made you want to rip your head off and chuck it out to sea. 
“Okay, baby girl, talk to me.” 
The ice was melting in the cup from the warmth of your hands, making your hands wet with the condensation, hiding the sweat from your nerves. 
“Do you know how much flowers cost?” 
Derek chuckled and shook his head. “No. I don’t think I do.”
“The government doesn’t pay me enough for the amount of flowers I want at my reception.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have picked the Peabody Library as your reception location.”
“In my defense.” You furrowed your brows. “You were with us when we toured it. It’s perfect, Derek. Don’t tell me it’s not.” 
“No, it’s perfect; I just don’t understand why you need that many flowers.”
“Sometimes, I feel like you don’t even know me, Derek Morgan.” 
“He’s going to cry first.” Emily smiled, lightly dabbing under your eyes with some of your powder foundation to show that you weren’t almost crying. 
“I will buy you a whole bottle of Möet that Rossi will cry first.” 
As JJ entered the room, you and Emily shook hands, giggling like school girls. “Almost ready?” 
You nodded, glancing over at yourself in the mirror. 
Honestly, you had never thought this day would come. Your wedding day. After everything you had been through, all of the heartbreak, all of the confusion, all of the traveling and running away. Everything you could possibly think of going wrong just went wrong. Suddenly, the flowers weren’t delivered, and then no one showed up to the reception, and then you were left at the altar, abandoned and unloveable again. You couldn’t breathe; your chest was seizing. It was too tight. There wasn’t enough fresh air in the room. Your heartbeat was too loud, and you couldn’t look away from yourself in the mirror. This wasn’t real; Everything bad happening was in your head. 
Or maybe it was an awful dream, and you need to wake up before it gets too far and your heart gets shattered again. 
JJ whispered your name, reaching out for you, sending a shock of electricity through your arm when she touched it. 
You jumped. 
“I want to talk to him.” You blurted out, looking over at JJ. “I–I need to talk to him.” 
“You said yes.” 
You nodded, staring down at your wine glass, pondering if it was the right decision. Emily was wondering the same thing. 
“I don’t know if it’s the best idea for you to go back to—”
“It is.” You cut her off, not harshly, just firmly. “I haven’t been the same since I left the BAU, and I left for perfectly valid reasons, Em, I know. But….”
“But?” 
“But I miss it. Don’t you? It flexes my muscles in ways I couldn’t replicate, and I was so good at it. I felt smart and useful and not lost, wandering the islands of Greece.”
If you didn’t know her so well, Emily’s fake gasp could have easily been mistaken for a real one. “We had a fantastic time, and you know it.” 
“Yes, but I also know that I was feeling so unfulfilled intellectually that I went off and got a Ph.D. Like, come on, I never wanted a PhD before I left; I just didn’t know how to challenge myself.”
“That is fair. I just think you need to consider the fact that you’d be working with you know who.”
“You can say his name, Emily. He’s not some dark lord; he’s just an idiot with an IQ of 187.” 
“Yeah, Yeah, look. I have to go, but we are not done with this conversation, okay? I’ll need a full PowerPoint presentation with all the pros and the cons.” 
“Yes, ma’am, I can do that. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”
You heard the click of her line going dead before there was a knock on your door. You quickly pressed play on your movie, letting one of your favorite rom-coms (When Harry Met Sally) play in the background as you scrounged around for where you had left your wallet. 
Clad in an oversized shirt you’ve had forever, plaid pajama shorts that were once part of a Christmas set, and your comfiest fuzzy socks, you slid over to the door once you had found your wallet. 
You opened the door. “How much…”
His eyes met yours, and you took a small step back. 
“You are not the pizza guy.” 
“No. I’m not.” 
His answer caused you to laugh a little bit, filling his chest with a warmth he hadn’t felt in over two years. 
“Can I–” He gestured into your house, and you moved to the side, allowing him to enter. 
“I, um….” You bit your lip and eyed him up and down. “As long as you’re okay with When Harry Met Sally playing in the background.”
“Time for the annual rewatch.” He smiled at you nervously, but a very small part of yourself enjoyed the fact that he remembered. 
You headed back towards the couch, casually trying to clean up as you went to give the impression that you were cleaner than you were. 
“Shoes off before you get to the couch.” You called over your shoulder. 
The door closed behind Spencer with a soft click. 
“Honey, you said you don’t want a first look.”
“We don’t have to look at each other—I don’t know, like a corner or something. I just..I-I-I.” 
JJ watched as your panic started to bubble over, and she took your hands in hers. “Want to call him first?” 
You nodded. “Y-Yeah, let’s try that.” 
JJ handed you your phone off the vanity, watching as you dialed the number, panicking even more when it wouldn’t connect—there was no service. 
Spencer had asked you to play chess with him that night, and you obliged. Something about falling into an old routine felt good; it felt right. A movie you chose in the background while playing chess against Spencer. Some things were always meant to be. The night was filled with laughs, small talk, and contentment–life feeling like it should. 
A familiarity shrouded you both, mocking the comfort you once used to feel.
When you won, he was a bit baffled. You had only beaten him a few times, and he was focusing on all of the outcomes. How could he not notice—
“You can’t win every game, Spence.” 
His heart lodged in his throat at the nickname, and he looked up at you, that goofy half smile on his lips. 
Lovestruck. He looked lovestruck. 
And then you exhaled. “We can’t avoid it forever. I know that’s why you came here in the first place.” 
He blinked away the love, replacing it with guilt, hurt, fragments of something you both had grieved in your own time. 
“Y-yeah. Let’s um, let’s talk about…”
You redialled the number only to be met with the same beeping as before, eyes wide as you looked at JJ. “There’s no service. JJ, I can’t–he won’t…” 
Emily handed you her phone–it was ringing, thank god. 
“Hey Emily, is everything okay?” 
“It’s me.” You said simply, but the wobble in your voice said everything he needed to hear.
“oh–Honey, talk to me. What’s going on? What’s wrong?” 
“I-I…” You swallowed your tears and looked over at your two friends—you gestured slightly, silently asking them to leave the room so you could talk to your future husband alone. They obliged, letting the door close. It was nice of them to pretend like they weren’t running over to see if they could eavesdrop from his room, but they were just met with Derek in the hall, who had also been booted out. 
“Is she okay?” 
Emily shook her head. “No idea. She was fine one moment, and she was about to burst the next. Like a complete shift of personality.” 
Derek sighed. “I’ve never seen him switch so quickly either. He was all nervous one minute, but the second he heard her voice….he almost sounded like Hotch doing damage control.” 
JJ laughed slightly at that, glancing back at the door hiding you behind it. 
“Do you think she’ll go through with it?” Derek whispered slowly, making sure no one was around to hear him. 
Emily fidgeted with the bracelet on her wrist. “She’s terrified he’s not going to.” 
“Look, Spence, I get it. Shit happens. But you don’t know what it was like, coming home one day and you were laughing with someone else. You hadn’t laughed for months, almost a year, before then.”
“I know. I’m so–”
“Say sorry one more fucking time. Sorry isn’t explaining…or talking to me. I know you have trouble expressing whatever bullshit is going on in your head, but you have to try. It’s me, for fucks sake, Spence, And while I am willing to wait, I can only be so patient for so long with no actual explanation—” 
“I was terrified of you.”
“What…” 
Spencer stood up, pacing back and forth in front of your coffee table, trying to find the right words. “You were so far gone when Em died, and you had sunk into this pit of despair, and I was scared of watching you push down this path, destructive and–and; I didn’t know who you were, and I was so scared to watch you go down this path so I turned away instead.” 
“Spencer, you ran to JJ. You just left me here, alone. And then, when she comes back, you fucking threaten the fact that you were having Dilaudid cravings?”
“I think he’s even more mortified that she will back out on him. He knows everything she’s gone through. I mean–I love her, but she’s got major commitment issues.” 
JJ slapped his arm and glared at him. “And for good reason, Derek.” 
Derek grumbled an ‘ow,’ rubbing at his arm. “I’m not saying it wasn’t justified–I completely side with her on it--I’m just pointing out what we already know.” 
Spencer closed his eyes. “I don’t love you anymore.” 
Your heart leaped into your throat, or maybe it was vomit, you weren’t sure, but all you could do was stare at him from across the kitchen countertop. 
“Since this was my place first, uh…I can give you a couple of weeks to find a place, and I’ll even sleep on the couch…”
You hadn’t even spoken yet, shaking your head. “Stop. Spencer. What.” 
Your head was pounding, hands gripping onto the counter to try and steady yourself.”
“Sorry.” He whispered. He couldn’t even look at you. He was just staring at his hands, almost unsure about what he was saying. 
“Sorry?” You laughed, tears starting to track down your cheeks. “Spencer, this has to be a sick fucking joke..” 
He shook his head. 
Behind the door, You were just pacing back and forth, listening to his voice, trying to erase this memory from your mind and find a new one to replace it, barely listening to the man on the other end of the line. 
“Hey, listen to me. It’s going to be okay. If you want to call the whole thing off, everyone will understand. If it’s not right—.” 
“No.” You responded immediately. “I–I, I want to do this, I want to marry you…just…”
“You just needed some reassurance. I know.”
You nodded, not realizing he couldn’t hear you nod, but somehow, it felt like he did. 
“I love you.” 
You smiled, exhaling shakily. “Good.” 
His laugh bubbled through his lips, causing you to take another breath.
“I’ll see you out there?” 
“Can you just stay on the phone for another minute or so? I just need, like—”
You could hear him nod over the phone. “Anything you want.”
Somehow, you were back in that fucking elevator. Again. 
But this time, it felt like a homecoming rather than a curse you were trying to break. 
When the doors opened, you saw your family leaving little presents on your desk—flowers, balloons, chocolate, even cupcakes from your favorite bakery. They were all so busy setting it up that they didn’t notice as you walked up behind them, peering over their shoulders. 
“Looks good, guys.” 
“You think—” Derek did a double take and clutched his chest. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.” 
You laughed and smiled at him, dropping your bag onto your chair. “It looks wonderful. You guys didn’t have to do anything for me–”
“Actually, we did. How could we not? I mean! She’s home! She’s back solving crimes in sexy-looking outfits!” Garcia wrapped her arm around your shoulders, resting her head on yours. 
“I love it, guys, thank you.” 
JJ briskly walked past you all, giving you a brief smile, almost running up the stairs and into Hotch’s office. 
“Well, looks like you’re getting thrown right back into it.” Derek sighed. 
Hotch came out of his office and smiled at you before nodding at the others. “Wheels up in forty, everyone. I’ll brief you all on the plane.” 
“Good.” 
“Just breathe y/n. Okay? I’ll be the one at the end of the altar with the incredibly well-tailored suit and those flowers you like so much pinned to my chest.”
“You’re gonna cry.” You whispered jokingly, taking in a deeper breath than before. “I look so good in this dress. I actually was crying about it before I made Emily call you.” 
“It’s like you’re trying to kill me.”
Derek knocked on your door, leaning his ear up against it, trying to hear what you were saying. He called out your name, and after about a minute, you told him it was unlocked. 
“Can I come in?”
“If you want Derek, it is entirely up to you.” 
He opened the door, tears welling up the second he saw you. 
Hearing him enter, you faced him, smiling softly at him. 
All Derek could do was take you in for a second, unable to really think of what he was about to tell you. This felt a bit ridiculous since he was there when you picked out the dress, but watching you now, ready to actually wear it for its intended purpose, was a whole different ball game. 
“You look…..”
“Right.” You whispered, walking over and squeezing his hand. “I’m ready. Let’s do this thing before shit goes south.”
______________________________________________________________
“Y/n, You are the love of my life, and I could give you an eternal list of every single moment of my life where I felt nothing but complete and utter adoration for you. But then last week, you picked the movie you thought we should watch: a nineties rom-com, obviously, with big romantic gestures and a heroine who doesn’t need to be tamed. And those two inspired me to give you instead a list of the ten things I hate about you.” 
Spencer had gotten a good look at you for the first time in a long time. He had already felt guilty about the fact that he had Maeve and that you had broken up. But what he had failed to realize was the same thing Derek had–You were someone entirely different, a ghost of yourself. The guilt was gnawing through his stomach when he told Hotch what was going on, and he had begged Hotch to let you sit out, trying to save you from this, but clearly, Spencer couldn’t do anything right for you anymore. He hadn’t been able to in a very long time. Hotch had cleared his throat while Spencer shook his head. “I-I tried Hotch, I really didn’t want…”
He just nodded at Spencer. “I know, Reid, but you must have known there was no way this conversation would go any better than that.” 
Reid just nodded and stood up, going out into the bullpen, not missing the way all of their eyes snapped to him as Penelope dumped her broken mug into the trash. 
Before anyone could say anything, Hotch walked out of his office and looked at everyone. “As you all could have guessed, Agent Y/L/N will not be joining us on this case. I expect everyone in the conference room in ten.” with that, Hotch walked past Reid and down the stairs toward where he had assumed you had run off to. 
Reid just returned to his desk, sitting and staring at your now empty desk. Hotch had fulfilled your request, letting you move across the bullpen so you didn’t have to sit next to him anymore. 
Some part of the thought that you couldn’t even look at him anymore caused his gut to lurch, causing his hearing to burst for a moment. Maybe this was too fucked up. Perhaps he had been wrong. He thought he was doing the right thing by letting you go, not weighing you down with all his own bullshit, but he realized he had failed to pay attention. 
Spencer thought long and hard, trying to piece together everything he had thought about in the past couple of months when it came to you, and that’s when he realized it was every day. He thought about you every day. 
But he had ignored you. He had failed to notice as you crumbled to nothing in front of him. 
“Number ten is that I hate the way you fold laundry. It’s incredible how you manage to fold every single item in a completely different manner. It baffles me. One of the great mysteries in this world that we might never have the answer to.” 
“So you two spoke?”
You held up your finger as you finished the prosecco in your glass. Once you finished, casually, you picked up the bottle and poured yourself a second glass, only beginning to speak when the glass had been filled to your liking. 
“He came over to my apartment, Derek. I had already opened the door, and what was I going to say—”
“How about no?”
“It’s rude to interrupt Derek Morgan.” Penelope elbowed him and took a sip from her own glass. “But he’s right, Y/n. You could have said no and slammed the door in his face.” 
“But that’s not who I am. You know I’m a sucker for closure. You know I wanted to talk to him anyway. I just wasn’t expecting the discussion that ended up happening….”
Derek raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “Do tell Princess.”
You shrugged and took another sip. “We talked about Maeve.”  
The looks you received were exactly what you had expected, only because it was how you felt about the conversation. 
“Number nine. I hate how you pick out what we will watch each week. You just skim through every single title on every platform until the one with the right ‘energy’ calls out to you. And they’re never the same. You manage to match a film to the night perfectly, and I hate how well you can pinpoint that about me. 
“Eight. I hate the way you drive. You manage to be the safest and most dangerous person on the road. There’s nothing more to that one. You terrify me.” 
“I cannot believe you, Spencer Reid. You have the audacity to come to my house, lose at chess, and then accuse me of being the reason our relationship ended!?”
“That’s not what I said.” His voice was desperate. “I’m not blaming anyone but myself, okay? I fucked up. I know I fucked up. I just—You were so–”
“I was so what, Spencer. What about me was just soooo fucking terrifying to you that you decided you didn’t want to propose to me anymore.” 
“That’s not fair.” 
Your jaw dropped. “You’re fucked in the head if you think the part that isn’t fair is me calling you out on that.” 
Spencer paced around, running his hands through his hair. He was going to wear a path in your carpet the way he was pacing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. 
“Seven. I hate how captivating you are. Whenever you tell a story, there’s no use in getting any work done because all anyone can do is wait for the story to be finished. If there’s no ending–I’ve watched Morgan sulk at his desk until you returned from a meeting because you were running late and didn’t wrap up the end of the story for him. Something about the way you speak, the way you capture people’s attention, is one of the most dangerous weapons I’ve ever seen on the planet. 
“I hate—oh, sorry–Number six.” He smiled at you and squeezed your head. You were shaking slightly as you rapidly blinked away tears, trying to inhale and exhale through your nose. It wasn’t working. Every word this man said made you one second closer to jumping onto him and kissing him senseless. “I hate how smart you are. It’s ridiculous. You can argue so beautifully and eloquently that it makes anyone arguing against you look like a fucking idiot. You speak four fucking languages, making you invincible and even more aggravating since you’ve decided to start learning a fifth one. You have started to beat me every other game in chess, which is actually humiliating for me, and I can’t figure out how you’re doing it. You read everything under the sun and still manage to have a life, friends, and family. I don’t know anyone in the world who could compare to your intellect.”
“Five. I hate how you steal my chocolate-covered pretzels. I bought you a whole fucking cabinet’s worth, and somehow, mine still got eaten.” 
You watched him give you a bit of a stink eye for that one, causing you to kiss his hand lightly. “My apologies.”
“You don’t mean it, and you know it.” He grumbled, flipping his page so that he could keep reading. 
“I hate how beautiful you are. It’s distracting. I can’t work near you anymore because all I want to do is daydream about you. I want to watch you smile for the rest of my life if I can help it.” 
“Three. I hate how much you care. It terrifies me how much you care about other people. I have seen you at your best and your worst moments.” You squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I have seen the worst outcomes of cases we could ever imagine, or the best, and yet you put the same amount of effort and care into all of them. It’s infuriating because you put your life on the line constantly to be able to give people a chance, whether that be to save them from others or to save them from themselves. You are the most considerate person in the world, even to those who might not deserve it.” 
This was not a good case. 
It was never a ‘good case,’ but this one just sucked the absolute life out of you. You had been back for only a month, and it was going too well. You were on top of your game. You were better than ever—but you knew the other shoe would drop.
And it did. 
You were never a big fan of getting shot at, but you would prefer that rather than have to escape a burning building. It was one of your biggest fears, and here it was, being realized. 
You had managed to crawl down to the first floor before everything started to go black. He had sealed the windows. He had sprinkled broken glass along the stairs, causing you to rip open your legs and hands as you slid down the stairs. The more significant shards of glass shredding the back of your pants. It was fucking painful. But you had managed to make it to the kitchen. 
That’s when you saw the firefighters bursting through doors, trying to contain the fire surrounding you. You could feel the burn on your skin as they pulled you out of the building, blood dripping down your legs and hands. 
You must have been one fucked up sight for Hotch to drop everything he was doing and run over to you. But you wished he didn’t because the building behind you exploded. The flames must have hit the gas line, and the house came crashing down. 
You were thrown back from the force, causing you to land on your back. Nothing was broken, nothing was sprained, but adding road rash and hearing loss to your ever-growing list of injuries was not fun. 
Spencer and Hotch, who were shoved to the ground by the blast, scrambled over to you, where you were just lying on the ground, facing the sky, trying to breathe. 
Maybe they were yelling your name or just trying to speak to you, but your head buzzed with the remnants of the explosion. 
You watched as the sky above you filled with smoke and flickered with red hues. At some point, you saw Spencer come into your line of view. He was definitely mouthing your name. 
Just then, like a wave crashing over you again, your hearing came back. Overwhelming could barely describe the feeling of shock running through your body. Your eyes widened as tears sprung to your eyes, your lungs gasping for air, and your mind flooded with adrenaline, with panic. 
“Y/N. Hey. Listen to me. Hey.” Hotch had been trying to get you to sit up. He was going through his own internal panic attack—this scene was a little too close to NYC, to Kate. 
Ambulance sirens blared, and you could hear a beam crash down and spur on the fire—” It hurts. So. Bad.” You finally managed to whisper, still gasping for air. 
Reid wasn’t sure you were even registering that you were sobbing and that tears were racing down your cheeks. 
“Can you sit up?” 
“My hands.” You mumbled. “There-there was glass…so much…” 
You flinched as Hotch yelled for a gurney. 
“I need you to try and sit up, okay?” Spencer was next to you. He was on his hands and knees, slowly trying to gain your attention. There is a gentle touch on the arm here and a brush of your hair out of your eyes. He was just trying to give you peace, a breath amid everything going on.
“Spence.” You whined, flexing your hand, wincing when a tiny shard of glass shifted in your palm, causing even more pain. 
“I know.” He said to you, gently taking your hand and wincing as he saw the microscopic shards scattered across your palm. “I need you to sit up for me.” 
“Please don’t make me get up, Spence.” You whispered. 
Hotch had moved away from the both of you, trying to clear a path so two EMTs could reach you. 
“Once you sit up, I promise you won’t have to do anything else.” 
You closed your eyes and let out a cry. It felt so relieving to just let whatever tension you had left in your body. But the thought of not doing anything sounded even better, so you slowly made your way to a sitting position, leaning against Spencer’s chest as he kissed your head and carefully ran his hand up and down your arm. 
Spencer’s entire body relaxed into yours. He had never been more grateful that you could make it out of that building before…he didn’t want to think about what else would have happened. The two of you had just started talking again. You were hanging out. He would have never forgiven himself if he left things the way they were. 
It felt wrong for him to be grateful at how much you got hurt because all of your limbs were still intact, and you were still conscious, still breathing. But he was thankful as he held you on the pavement, in the middle of the road, while everyone ran around you both. 
You, on the other hand, were not happy to be sitting up. The adrenaline started to wear off, and your body was no longer buzzing. “Spence.” You whispered to him, trying to get his attention. You were nauseous, and the world was spinning. Everything was phasing in, and out of clarity, you could actually feel the earth rotating. 
“Spence.” This time, it was said with more urgency. And it caught his attention. “I need to lie back down.” 
“You can’t—”
“I’m gonna vomit.” 
“Shit shit shit, okay, nausea is usually a sign of a concussion, a really bad one, most likely in the red zone—”
“Spencer, please.” You mumbled, closing your eyes and slumping against him, trying your best to hold down whatever you felt slowly creeping up your throat. 
“I can’t let you lay back down.” He mumbled, turning you in his arms, prepping for whatever would come out. 
Luckily for both of you, the two EMTs and Hotch had made it back over, bucket in hand, because Hotch had told them you most likely had a concussion. And god bless that stupid bucket because it managed to save some of your dignity by not throwing up all over the street. The EMTs had checked you out, flashing that stupid fucking light in your eyes, looking at your hands and doing their best to pull out some of the larger chunks of glass, and then helping to get you onto a gurney, and eventually into an ambulance to be shipped off to the nearest hospital. 
Spencer was the only person you would allow to come with you in the ambulance. 
“Two. I hate how well you know me and can read me like an open book. I have never met someone who knew me in the same way you could. You know things about me before I could even fathom the possibilities. You have been there for me in some of the darkest times of my life, and I would not have survived if it wasn’t for you. You picked me off the ground countless times, more than I could ever repay you for.” 
“And last but not least. I hate how I can’t live without you. I hate that if you’re not in the same room as me, I can’t breathe. I hate how you manage to make my days filled with comfort, support, and love when sometimes I don’t deserve it. I hate when you go away to conferences, and I have to wake up to an empty bed, and the only thing that motivates me is the fact that I know you’ll text me as soon as you’re awake. I hate how you are the last person I want to see at night before I go to sleep. And I hate that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”
You were fully crying, tears tracking down your cheeks, as you squeezed his hand tightly. You laughed slightly, trying to wipe away one of the stray tears, but he beat you to it, using his thumb to wipe away your tears gently. 
“Did you just quote When Harry Met Sally at me?” 
He smiled cheekily, handing the paper back to Derek, who put it in his pocket. “What else would I be able to quote at you? It was playing that night…” 
You shook your head, unable to stop the smile across your face. You heard him whisper, “I love you,” but it still made your heart ache. 
“Okay, Doctor Reid. Work your magic.” 
“You make it sound like I’m performing a spell or something. I’m literally just fixing your computer.” 
You snorted and shrugged. “Isn’t it you who always said that physics and magic are basically the same thing.”
“Okay, yes, but—”
“And computer science is a science, right?” 
Spencer just rolled his eyes, realizing he would not win this argument, and began to futz with your desktop. 
It had crashed on you while you were in the middle of a report. At home. In your pajamas. 
This was a practice that was familiar to Spencer. Whenever you were working on something that was not classified or very sensitive information, you had gotten special clearance from Hotch to bring it home. So Spencer has seen you write up preliminary profiles for cases around the country in nothing but your pajamas many times. 
Except he hasn’t seen you in just pajama shorts and a tank top since, well. 
He was supposed to be focusing on the desktop, and that is what he is going to do. 
“I really appreciate you coming over at like 10 pm, Spence. I really do. I’m sure you were busy, so I really appreciate it.”
He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “It was no trouble, really. Besides.” He turned back to the screen with a cheeky grin across his face. “I know how you get when something breaks.” 
Your jaw dropped slightly, and you leaned against the kitchen counter. “Spencer. Are you…flirting with me…”
His face turned slightly red as he quickly faced the computer screen again. “And so what if I am,” he mumbled, focusing on the task at hand. He wasn’t sure how you managed to freeze your computer this badly, but he was determined to work it out. 
You shrugged and checked your phone, looking at the text from Emily that you had chosen to ignore. Maybe she told you not to ask Spencer over. Maybe she had warned against moving too quickly with anything. 
But you were a grown adult, you could make your own choices. You could—
“It’s, uh, it’s all fixed for you.” Spencer had stood up and was nervously fiddling with his hands. He hasn’t been like this towards you since you had both started dating over seven years ago. 
You bit your lip and casually turned your phone on DnD. 
“Thanks, Spence. I really appreciate it.” 
He nodded, doing his best to stop eying you up and down. 
The two of you stood there, unsure of how to continue on with one another. 
The tension was thick, almost like a humidity in the air that covered your skin and ruined your hair, just by stepping into it. 
Spencer eventually broke eye contact and wiped his hands on his pants. “Well, I’m going to uh…Have a good night.” He quickly grabbed his bag from the counter and shut the door behind him. 
Your hands dragged down your face as you sighed and shook your head. Maybe it was for the best that you two just stayed friends. Maybe it was for the best that you two never were in a relationship again. You remembered what happened last time. Maybe you should just finish the report and go to bed. Or maybe you should run after him. It wouldn’t be that embarrassing, considering he was staring back at you, right? 
Who said you didn’t deserve to make a bad decision every now and again. 
You grabbed your keys and slid on your slippers, not even bothering to grab a coat. You opened the door and came face to face with an out-of-breath Spencer just about to knock on your door. You took one look at each other. 
And that’s when he reached down and brought your lips to his. 
Emily reached over and gently handed you your vows.
“Fuck fuck fuck.” You whispered, causing everyone around you to laugh softly at you, desperately trying to stop crying. 
“I said I was going to try not to cry during his, and that obviously was not the case.” You slowly exhaled your lips, taking his hand and smiling up at him.
“Hey.” You whispered, causing him to whisper it back to you. “So–um. I wrote my vows a long time ago. Like, a while back. And I was looking for them and almost couldn’t find them. But I remembered that I had written them in that really small brown, leather journal thing that you got me for one of my birthdays that I kept losing because I always put it down and never remembered where.” 
The small, collected group laughed together, watching you turn the page in that small brown leather journal. 
“I didn’t know where I wanted to start when writing my vows. I knew how I wanted it to end, though. I’ve always known how I wanted my life to end and everything to go. So that’s what I did. I started at my endgame and worked my way backward. But shit happens, and life never goes according to plan. Never.” 
He squeezed your hand. 
Those weeks after were fucking brutal for you. 
Relaxing was something you were never fantastic at, so having to take two weeks off to recover from your concussion, burns, cuts, and bruises was excruciating. 
Maybe it would have been worse if a certain someone wasn’t basically living in your apartment with you, doing anything and everything to be there for you. 
You woke up to freshly brewed coffee, sometimes breakfast if he wasn’t away on a case. Sometimes, he’d be home in time to make you both dinner. It felt oddly domestic for you, reminding you of before Maeve, before everything that had gone down over the phone. 
Once the two weeks were over, he might have visited to check up on you. There would be nights where he would stay over just in case your head or back started to hurt again. It took more convincing for Spencer to let you go back to work than it did for your actual neurologist. 
“Need I remind you I’m a doctor too, Spencer. I’m going back to work on Monday, meaning two over one, majority rules.” 
Spencer scoffed and crossed his arms. “The lights will cause headaches, and staring at screens and files will only add to that. It’s a bad idea, y/n. Especially if we have to go somewhere, traveling across the country in a plane. You might as well knock yourself out because the air pressure would kill your head and ear drums.” 
“Always the one for dramatics, aren’t we.”
Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m not being dramatic. I just care about your well-being, apparently more than you do—”
“Spence.”
“What.”
You kissed him softly. Just to shut him up. There were no ulterior motives. None. 
He hummed, hands sliding around your waist, keeping you close to him as you broke the kiss. 
That was another development you were keeping under wraps. The two of you might have decided to give it another shot. It had been over a month since you rejoined the BAU, and even before you got severely injured, Spencer had been doing everything he could to apologize. Whether that be his apologies or through his actions, he was stepping up. 
But both of you had yet to outright tell the others. Emily knew something was going on, especially when you showed up to work in the same outfit two days in a row, but she had assumed you had seen someone else, not your ex. 
You didn’t mind, though, when he took such good care of you when he bought you fresh flowers every week, when he kissed you past the point of breathing when he would—
“What are you thinking about?” Spencer whispered, interrupting whatever spiral you had started.
“What book I should read next.” 
“Liar.” He squeezed your sides, laughing softly and kissing you again. 
“There’s not much I can say about how life doesn’t go as planned since everyone here with us understands and knows how quickly life changes. But I realized that I need to have you by my side regardless of how it changes. I don’t want to be back in a place where I’m not with you because it just didn’t make any sense.” 
“My vows are short because I would never make it through them if they were any longer.” 
This caused another ripple of laughter throughout your friends, giving your fiancé a moment to wipe away another stray tear on your cheek. 
“All of this to say.” You cleared your throat, but it didn’t stop the tears from clouding your vision. “Shit. Give me a second.” 
Emily gave you a tissue, which you used to wipe under your eyes. You shook your hands slightly, trying to calm yourself down and shake out the rest of the emotions so that you could at least finish saying your vows. 
“Having begun to love you, I love you forever—in all changes, in all disgraces, because you are yourself.”
Spencer beamed joyfully, realizing you followed his same path, quoting something you knew the other loved. 
And suddenly, the stars aligned. A soft breeze picked up, and the world was quiet. 
Everything was alright. Everything was okay. 
And for that beautiful, brief moment, you had everything you could have ever asked for, and there was nothing you would have changed, nothing in the whole world that was worth the love and happiness you felt in this moment, beaming at Spencer as you both said
I do. 
“To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further. There is no other pearl to be found in the dark folds of life.” - Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
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Taglist: @gubzgirl @onlyspence @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @mynameisnotokay @kalulakunundrum @academiareid @lilsunshine1092 @brilliantreid @shqwqrma @cluelessteam @lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests @hereforfun22-blog @yoursarahg @r-3dlips @lilrios-world @hereforfun22-blog @mega-kittyglitter-1
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in1-nutshell · 5 months
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I want to request for Buddy to be a Shatter glass Megatron long lost twin but has the original Megatron personality, i understand if you don't want to tho.
Ooooh! Haven't done one of these before! My knowledge of the Shattered Glass universe is a bit rusty, but I think this ended up pretty good for the knowledge. I did only 3 mechs this time around since these were the best I knew. Let me know if this isn't what you wanted.
Hope you enjoy!
Con’s reaction to Megatron’s twin with OG Megatron’s personality
SFW, familial, platonic, Cybertronian/ Bot reader
SG!
Megatron
He loves Twin really.
But sometimes he worries about his more… physical side. It’s a bit rougher than what he’d like it, but its perfect for the battle ahead.
“We need a plan!”--Starscream
“Anyone have any ideas?”--Megatron
Twin raising his servo.
“One that doesn’t involve with a frontal attack.”--Megatron
Twin lowers his servo.
Without a doubt Twin is one of the best fighters in his army. An excellent strategist on most days. But sometimes when things get a little too heated, the lines tend to blur.
Twin raising their mace over Sideswipe helm.
“Wait! Stop! He’s on our side!”--Megatron
“And how do you know that?”--Twin
“I was left for dead by the Autobots. I gave you the attack plans yesterday?!”--Sideswipe
“Oh… Now I remember. Sorry Sideswipe, please let me help you back to the medbay.”--Twin
“… Spinister and Bombshell aren’t going to like this.”--Sideswipe
“… I know…” –Twin
Which leads to a question many Decepticons had asked.
Why wasn’t Twin second in Command?
It was a simple answer. He didn’t want to be second in Command. He was a soldier and would follow Megatron and his superiors into battle without hesitation.
Megatron misses the days when they would just listen to Twins poetry and manifestos about the corrupt government. A part of him which was now buried under years of pain and suffering from this blasted war.
He is glad that his twin remained loyal to the Decepticon cause and did not move to the power hungry Autobot side.
Megatron has had multiple spark attacks as Twin will fight any of his greatest enemies on sight. No joke.
“It’s over Megatron. Time to meet your—”—Optimus Prime
“OPTIMUS!”--Twin
“Stay back!”--Megatron
“STAY THE PIT AWAY FROM MY BROTHER, YOU SPAWN OF A—”--Twin
“Finally, a real fight.”--Optimus
Starscream
They both met when the war was starting. Megatron himself gave him the introduction, which was interesting.
“Starscream, this is Twin, he is my brother.”--Megatron
“Hello.”--Twin
“Well hello to you too. I look forward in working with you and the others.”—Starscream
“Likewise, Starscream.”--Twin
Despite some clash in morals and personality, the two worked well. Starscream had told him many tales of him and Skyfire before the war had happened. Twin is protective of Starscream after hearing how Starscream was nearly captured. It is on sight if Twin ever sees Skyfire.
“Skyfire, please reconsider!”--Starscream
“Enough traitor!”--Skyfire
“You’re the traitor!”--Starscream
“AND I’M YOU’RE EXECUTIONER!”--Twin
“AHHH!”--Skyfire
“BUDDY STOP! WE’VE TALKED ABOUT THIS!”--Starscream
Yes, they do argue, but it never escalates too much. Twin protects his friend.
Soundwave
They met through Megatron on a tour of their new base.
“Soundwave, this is my brother.”--Megatron
“Oh, Hi there! It’s nice to meet you! Wow you too look a like but I’m getting a different vibe from you than Megatron. How was the say? Looks like a cinnamon roll but could kill you? No, looks like they can kill you but is a cinnamon roll. Oh—I’m rambling again. Sorry about that, sometimes I do—”--Soundwave
Inside Twin’s helm
‘I’m going to befriend this mech so hard.’
He still doesn’t know if this was a good idea or not. Twin knows things just as quickly as Megatron because they are so close.
Twin sometimes looks after the cassettes if Soundwave needs to be somewhere else.
It’s rare but it happens.
“Hey, I’m bac—What happened here?”--Soundwave
Twin laying down with the mini’s napping all over his frame.
“This is how I die… leave me here.”--Twin
Like Starscream, soundwave has told twin about Blaster. And like Skyfire, it is on sight for Blaster.
Twin is fiercely protectively over his friends.
“Its current time you second class scum!”--Blaster
“That’s what you think!”--Soundwave
“That’s what I know. You ain’t got no cassettes and you’re weapons jammed. What else do—”--Blaster
SMASH!
“BLASTER!”--Twin
“I’m outta here!”--Blaster
“GET BACK HERE YOU, SORRY EXCUSE OF A BOOMBOX!”--Twin
“Hey now, we’ve talked about the deep breathing exercises. Come on 1,2,3..”--Soundwave
“… 4,5,6…”--Twin
He does agree too much with the levels of violence Twin can get to, and there have been arguments about this. It usually gets resolved quickly though.
Faster than the others fight.
Has accidentally read his thoughts on the inner poet inside. Soundwave actively tries to get Twin to pick back the hobby. They sometimes share their hobbies on slower days.
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Text
Happily Ever After
(TW/CW for typical sexist thinking)
When Beauty and the Beast comes out in 1991, despite the fact that El is almost 20, she decides she wants to go and see it with her and her family. She adored The Little Mermaid, and after the Family Video days, going to the movies is still something her and the party like to do together. And Steve loves it, because he gets to watch cheesy romance storylines without taking shit for it.
But at the tender age of 24, not in a long-term relationship, and still haunted by his days in school, Beauty and the Beast hits Steve a little close to home. He sees himself in the Beast, wonders if he'll ever find love, if he'll ever stop being 'too much' for people (because sure, he doesn't have the Beast's temper, but he is too clingy, his exes - yes, all of them - made sure to tell him, and that's without all the other stuff).
And it's not like he's hopped into bed with every viable option in the years since they finally killed Vecna, either. He's really only had 3 relationships in that time, carefully vetted and deliberated upon before even starting the relationship, because he'd known then what it was like to have his heartbroken, and he was not in a rush to repeat that. Besides, his kids came first, and there was a lot of rebuilding to do. But despite everything, none of his girlfriends had lasted, not between the secrets of the Upside Down, the head trauma, the nightmares, and his 'cloying' nature.
He leaves the theatre with an ache in his chest, but tries to keep a smile on his face as they all pile into the nearest burger joint and talk about the movie and life in general. Only Eddie notices something's off, quirking an eyebrow at him. Steve, of course, waves him off with a poor excuse for a smile.
When it's time for them to all disperse, Steve drives straight to his current girlfriend's house as previously planned, not noticing the worried look Eddie shoots his way. Steve tries to hide his mood from his girlfriend, tries not to hug her for too long when she greets him at the door, knowing from much previous experience that girls don't like it when you're not the strong one, but he just can't shake the feeling that he's being torn apart from the inside out. He just can't help but think about how Belle was willing to change for the Beast; adjust her expectations, adapt her behaviour, be patient with him, and communicate instead of sending him weird, incomprehensible messages then get pissed when he doesn't understand. Why can't he have that? Is he even worthy of that? Why the fuck is it easier to justify redemption for a fictional beast than himself?
But his girlfriend sighs, unfooled, and won't leave him alone until he's honest about it because it's putting a damper on her night. And Steve, unprepared and entirely lost, just stammers out: 'I just... I want Disney love, you know?'
His girlfriend snorts at him, tells him Disney love doesn't exist, and that he just needs to be a man and get on with it.
Normally, Steve would force a laugh, tell her she's right, bury his feelings and try to do just that. But tonight? Tonight it breaks him. Before he knows what he's doing, he's up and muttering 'I don't think this is working' and gets straight back in his car, barely hearing her calling his name, confused and angry and exasperated. He doesn't notice where he's driving until he's already pulled up outside Eddie and Wayne's house, bought with the hush-money from the government.
He shuts off the engine and just sits there, debating what to do. The truth is, Eddie is just as much his best friend as Robin - even more so, sometimes, just in a different way Steve can't explain. Eddie always knows when he's upset, and knows exactly how to hug him - which he does, regularly. Eddie know when to steer him outside if it's too loud and going to trigger a migraine, and seems to know when he needs to eat, even though Eddie himself can barely keep himself fed. And Steve knows just when Eddie's going to get overstimulated and needs to be given something to focus on to calm him down, or when Eddie's had a bad night with nightmares, and needs someone to fall asleep with on the phone, just to know someone's there with him. He knows just when Eddie needs someone he can talk to about his new campaign, because everyone in work would complain so much if Eddie rambled on there. And Steve enjoys listening to him, so why wouldn't he encourage Eddie to speak to him?
They're best friends. And right now, he needs one of Eddie's hugs. It's just he's not normally so pathetically desperate when he turns up.
The decision is made for him when the front door opens and Eddie leans against the frame, a knowing smile on his face, practically screaming 'well, are you gonna come in or what?'. And even though he fights it, Steve can't stop the tears from welling as he gets out of the car and throws himself straight into Eddie's open arms.
"Whoa whoa, hey big boy, it's okay," Eddie soothes, bringing his arms around him and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure as sobs bubble up in Steve's throat.
"That's it, let it out," Eddie adds, and fuck does it make Steve melt.
Somehow - Steve really doesn't know how - Eddie gets the door closed and brings him to the sofa, manoeuvring him until Steve is curled up on his chest, face pressed into his neck, just safe and warm and whole in his arms, despite feeling so broken. And eventually, when Steve's calmed down enough to sniffle his way through an explanation, Eddie's warm hand in the centre of his back pulling too-honest word after too-honest word out of him, instead of laughing it off or being cagey as he normally would, Eddie's there, blowing out a breath, saying 'That sucks man,' and calling his girlfriend a bitch. Well, ex-girlfriend.
"She's not. Not really." Steve mumbles. "She's probably right, anyway. Disney love doesn't exist. I just- I just want someone that wants all of me, you know? Why show us that on screen if it doesn't exist in real life?"
"It does exist, man," Eddie says, but his tone is off. It's... sad, somehow. Like he's in pain. Steve blinks at him, and within seconds, a blush is covering Eddie's cheeks.
"Er, I just mean that it is out there, and you'll definitely find it," he says, tone now too bright and too enthusiastic.
".... But." Steve prompts.
"No, no buts. You can have it, and I'm sure you will!"
Steve tilts his head to the side. "Okay... so why did you sound.. like that?"
Eddie rakes his fingers through his hair - Steve never understood how his rings didn't catch in his curls.
"I, well, it's just that sometimes... the people who could love us like that have wanted to for a long time, and we've never noticed..."
Eddie's biting his lip, his voice trailing off into nothing, and legs practically vibrating with how fast he's tapping them. And Steve can't breathe.
"Eds?" he croaks.
"It just sucks that you're straight," Eddie forces out a laugh. "Because, assuming you'd be happy with a freak like me? I'd... gods Stevie, I'd give you everything."
Steve stares at him, at the bright pink of his cheeks, the deeper red of his lips (that are going to get darker if he keeps biting them like that), at the hair he's always been just a little bit obsessed with, and feels warmth and hope bloom where air should be.
"Eds... who says I'm straight?"
It's absolutely not what he expects to come out of his mouth. He'd never questioned his sexuality, even when Will and Mike finally got together. But now, how can he know he's anything but? It's like all the stars have magically aligned and suddenly, a new path has been made clear to him. The one he should have been on years ago.
Eddie's eyes snap to his, and Steve still cannot breathe, drowning in the hope, the fear, the devotion there. He wants to whimper. Almost does.
"Wh- what?"
Steve swallows. "For you, Eds? I'd be anything."
And it's different this time. Saying those words. He's used to them being a promise to become something he's not, to put everyone and their needs ahead of himself. But with Eddie, he knows he's never be taken advantage of like that. That Eddie would do exactly the same for him.
Eddie's hand cups his cheek, the callouses from his guitar sending tingles down Steve's spine, and Steve wants to cry all over again as Eddie whispers, hesitant and hopeful, "Be mine?"
Licking his lips, Steve swallows past his thumping heart.
"For forever, and happily ever after."
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alicerosejensen · 8 months
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I just finished your piece of Leon saving reader from kidnapper. So good, definitely one of my favorites for my boy Leon.
I was wondering if I could kindly request a sequel piece of dealing with the dissociative amnesia. I have that and a huge part of it and is forgetting memories that aren’t associated with the traumatic event. You can slowly start to forget everything and you can also sometimes get snippets of a memory back from triggers.
As a Leon lover, I’d love to see Leon comforting and helping the reader with that as well as the PTSD in general.
Of course no pressure or worry if you don’t wanna do this! You’re an amazing writer and I hope you keep writing in the future!! ❤️❤️☺️
Slowly I think that I will start writing again. My mood is still crap, but at least I have the desire to write something. So I'll probably continue to answer requests.
Let this be a small addition to that post about the kidnapping of the reader.
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- First of all, Leon will be afraid to leave you alone. He will walk with you everywhere and hold your hand.
- Of course, having experienced such stress, he understands that this will not pass without consequences, so he tries as much as possible to smooth out all the corners and make sure that nothing reminds you of the kidnapping.
- Dissociative amnesia is a shitty thing, you remember that you were afraid, but the memories of those days and the kidnapper himself seemed to be erased from your memory. Leon is only happy about this. He really thinks that you shouldn’t bring this up and constantly tries to distract you from this activity, believing that these memories should be forgotten.
- You instinctively cling to him like a little puppy of a beloved owner. Leon calmly accepts your desire for intimacy with him (not intimacy), so he tries to provide any attention you need.
- Takes you to sessions with psychotherapists and makes sure that you take medications to quickly recover.
- Leon asks to refrain from studying for now. Knowing that the kidnapping took place after classes at college, he is afraid that you will remember the events themselves and you will feel worse, so he suggests that you rest or study at home.
- He cooks food for you (probably simple dishes since I’m sure he doesn’t know how to cook), reads books with you and watches movies and TV shows in the evening, but Leon carefully checks the material before watching.
- Leon will learn different types of therapy thanks to which you can safely express your feelings. Of course he will consult a doctor.
- He really provides incredible support coupled with adequate treatment, thanks to which he sees that you are slowly but surely getting better.
- Leon rejoices at your small achievements in therapy.
- You talk to each other a lot, but subconsciously or not, you don't want to go anywhere or sleep without him. Leon always falls asleep later so he becomes a big spoon in your bed, shielding you from your fears.
- Do you have a fear of the dark? Leon will have no problem turning on the night light just to make you feel safe.
- He will never blame you for your slow recovery. Yes, he's been through a lot of crap and Raccoon City has mostly broken him, but he takes your traumatic experiences very seriously. Leon is not the kind of person who can one day say that he has been through more crap than you.
- If you have a panic attack or react to some trigger that scares you terribly, Leon will immediately rush to calm you down and create a safe zone.
- Of course, he's still a government agent. He can easily be called on a mission at any time, so he will ask someone to look after you. If it's not Claire, he'll just find someone like a nurse.
- However, he will be with you at all critical stages to get through together. You can always lean on his shoulder, especially for you.
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restinslices · 19 days
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I found your twilight post with the Lin Kuei brothers amusing and relatable 🤣
Can you do headcannons on watching marvel movies with the reader? Captain America is my favorite character in the movies lol
The MCU is huge so lmk if there was something specific you wanted to know about
Bi-Han
I don’t see any of them watching a lot of movies so you definitely introduced it to him 
He takes the longest time to finish the movies because it’s not on the top of his list when it comes to concerns 
He’s one of those overly critical watchers so he’s annoying as fuck to watch movies with 
I can see him liking Ultron
Why? I think he’d like the concept of Ultron and understand why he’s thinking the way he is 
The type to agree with Thanos until someone points out he could’ve just doubled the resources 
His favorite Phase is Phase 3 purely because Hela is his favorite character in the entire MCU 
He’s legit upset she was killed off 
I’d say which show is his favorite but I only watched Wandavision and TFATWS so moving on-
I don’t know if I see him reading the comics. Maybe if he’s curious enough 
The Avengers and The Guardians of The Galaxy are pinned against each other a lot, but what does he think?
I think it changes a lot. Depends on his mood
One thing’s for sure; he prefers the OG Avengers 
Not one of those Marvel fans that remembers everything and he doesn’t really stay up to date
Hasn’t even watched any of the shows yet 
Please bring Hela back and stop pissing him off. She ain’t do nothing wrong 
Quick afterthought 
He’s Team Cap
He don’t even wanna listen to Liu Kang. Why the fuck would he agree with the government controlling The Avengers?
Kuai Liang
NOT one of the overly critical watchers so thank fuck 
If he spots something that’s off, he’ll call it out but that’s as bad as it gets 
He likes a mix of villains and heroes
If the villains got a point, then they got a point. That’s just how it is.
He likes villains that can become better people. The pure evils ones he’s like “yeah you suck” but villains that are actually victims or who have done certain things but try to become better, he likes 
Because of that I’d say his favorite villain is The Winter Soldier 
He’s done terrible things but Kuai Liang feels pity for him and enjoys his story 
I think either Avengers or Civil War is his favorite movie 
He prefers the og era of the MCU and I think the Avengers as a whole reminds him of his family (petty as fuck towards each other but there’s ultimately love there) and Civil War was a banger
A situation where there’s technically not a right side is a topic I can see him liking 
With that being said, he is both Team Cap and Team Ironman 
Since he follows Liu Kang I can see him being like “sometimes teams need to be reined in and need someone to follow”
But in the same breath this is the same government that is corrupt and has proven themselves as not trustworthy 
And people could always die before the heroes are able to help
Then there’s Bucky and he once again understands why Steve wouldn’t tell but he also understands Tony’s anger 
He stays somewhat up to date when it comes to the new movies and shows 
He knows when they come out but he doesn’t see them right away 
Tomas
I can see him staying up to date and seeing the movies whenever he could 
Has possibly read some comics too?
Prefers Heroes 
Do I wanna say his favorite character is Spider-Man because the PS5 Spider-Man voices Tomas?
Yes
So that’s what imma do
Does he have a favorite Spider-Man?
I’m not sure. I can see him seeing the positives and negatives of all the Spidermen 
Team Cap for the accords 
Team Ironman for the Bucky situation 
His parents were killed so are we surprised? No
The type to see the positives of Phase 4 instead of just saying it’s shit 
Is it the best? No. But it’s not all ass. Damn.
He prefers the Guardians so when Gamora was killed, his heart was in SHAMBLES 
“Maybe Gamora and Peter can fall in love again”
I have bad news 
Favorite Phase is always changing. Each Phase has bangers and non bangers so it changes day to day 
I know I said he loved all the Spidermen but his favorite movie is probably a Tobey Maguire Spider-Man movie 
Do not tell him the Avengers are more like coworkers than family. Do not fuck up his day 
He likes found family movies so he enjoys the movies that focus on the groups 
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mikkeneko · 3 months
Text
What we miss when we don't talk about friendship (in MDZS)
I'd like to open with the statement that this is not about shipping -- none of my thesis is to say "don't ship this" or "this ship isn't real." People can and have shipped whatever the hell they want and should continue to do so for as long as it makes you happy. It's not even a question of "sure you can ship it but it's not CANON," because the MXTX canon is wonderfully good at being ambiguous and supporting multiple interpretations.
What this thesis is to say is that some of these themes and motifs to explore are about friendship, and they don't tend to get talked about much, because people are mostly focused on the romantic and sexual dimensions of a dynamic. Romantic and sexual dimensions are great, but they don't annihilate or even subsume platonic dimensions -- yes, sometimes you can be a lover and a friend, but sometimes you can just be a friend and not a lover and that's no less important. As a post I saw recently said which stuck with me -- don't remember the poster, alas, but it was something in the vein of -- "it's not about the intensity of the relationship, but the flavor of it." Platonic character dynamics can be just as obsessive and consuming as romantic dynamics, they can be discussed and analyzed separately without needing to invalidate romantic and sexual dynamics.
So! That disclaimer aside, let's talk about: FRIENDSHIP IN MDZS, and what we miss when we don't talk about friendship as a dynamic in this story separate from romantic and sexual interest. Friendship shows up repeatedly in this story with its own sub-plots and arcs and undercurrents and hazards separate from the romance that's going on, and it's mostly going on with the Lans.
Part 1: Lan Xichen and friendship
A cornerstone of this analysis has to do with a meta post I read very early on in the fandom about the Lans when viewed through a Confucian lens. Lan Qiren in particular is a very, very Confucian character, and he raised his nephews to those traditions and values. The pertinent one here is the topic of the "Five relationships" which outline the relationships that a man of authority can expect to have throughout his lifetime: self to ancestors, self to descendents, self to authorities and subordinates, self to marriage partners, and self to friends. Each one comes with a set of strictures and requirements which when added up combine to a world that is very, very emotionally taxing and extremely short on interpersonal and emotional support. He is expected to obey and submit to guidance from his seniors, but he can't ask them for help. He is expected to lead and govern his subjects, but he can never be wrong or show weakness or doubt. It's especially important, I think, that Lan Xichen is raised to expect that even any romantic relationship he might have (read: marriage to a woman) would not actually be emotionally supportive to him in any meaningful way; it would be another set of obligations to uphold, another place he would be expected to be remote and poised and never show weakness or ask for help.
The exception is friendship. Friendship is the only relationship structure Lan Xichen can have in his life that has any hope of actually being nurturing and emotionally supporting to him, a place he can let down his guard and ask for help with the expectation of receiving it. It becomes very clear from very early on that friendship means everything to Lan Xichen as a character. He enters the story with a strong, supportive friendship with one of the only true peers a man of station can have (Nie Mingjue) and it's clear that this has formatively set his expectation of what a friendship can and should be. Lan Xichen really wants to be the Friendship Is Magic guy. He believes that friendship is the best way to solve problems, and that everybody would be able to solve their problems if only they had a friendship like his, and that belief is a lot of what runs him into a meat grinder later in the story. He thinks that Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao are capable of maintaining a friendship post-war, and does not understand why they cannot, and his attempts to friend-matchmake the two of them ultimately lead both to disaster.
Part 2: Lan Wangji and friendship
The header says Lan Wangji, but this is actually about Lan Xichen again, and about Wei Wuxian. A pretty common joke in the fandom is that Lan Xichen is "the #1 WangXian shipper," that he recognizes Lan Wangji's sexual and romantic attraction to Wei Wuxian from very early on and supports him in pursuing such a relationship. It's a nice joke, but I think it misses the mark, because the looming specter of their parents' disastrous and traumatic marriage means that Lan Xichen would never approach the idea of his brother entering into a romantic relationship so cavalierly. (Lan Qiren, in some ways, had a clearer notion of what shape Lan Wangji's interest in Wei Wuxian had the potential to be than Lan Xichen did, perhaps because he doesn't have the same obsession with friendship; if he has any close friendships of his own, we're not shown them.)
Lan Xichen is not encouraging Lan Wangji to have a romantic summer fling. Lan Xichen encourages his association with Wei Wuxian specifically because he thinks Lan Wangji needs friends. Not just in the sense of any parent or adult wanting their child to make friends, but specifically in the context of these restrictive hierarchical relationships that hem in their world. Lan Xichen is afraid that Lan Wangji will be alone, and emotionally starved, and have no one he can ask for help or rely on, because that is his experience of a world without friendship. (Lan Wangji, of course, is not in the same position as Lan Xichen because he has Lan Xichen to rely on.) Lan Xichen wants Lan Wangji to have the same kind of friendship that he himself has with Nie Mingjue, and he thinks that Wei Wuxian has the potential to be that kind of friend. That is the context in which he encourages their association, and tries to arrange for them to have time together, and to become closer; not as a potential romantic partner but as a steadfast emotional and logistical support through Lan Wangji's adult life.
If Lan Xichen knew that Lan Wangji would fall in love with Wei Wuxian (had already started to,) I'm not at all sure that he would have encouraged that. In pretty much any arc past the Lan Lectures, he doesn't, both because Wei Wuxian stopped being a good candidate for supportive friendship (he's clearly got too much of his own shit going on) and because he realizes that what is developing in Lan Wangji bears very little resemblence to his own relationships. He might not outright try to sabotage the relationship but he's clearly worried about its potential to bring disaster on Wangji -- and he's very correct to be worried, as it turns out.
Part 3: Lan Sizhui and friendship
So, All Of That Happens; Wei Wuxian dies, Lan Wangji is laid low for years and seems poised to grieve for the rest of his life; Nie Mingjue dies and takes Lan Xichen's support with him. Now we come to the present day, and the present day has Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi.
Let's take a moment to step back and ask from an analytical perspective: Why is Lan Jingyi, as a character, in the story? Assuming that in a novel as polished as MDZS, each element is included for good reasons. Why is Lan Jingyi in the story and why is he Lan Sizhui's best friend? In the new world we're introduced to, the Lan are already represented, and very positively represented by Lan Sizhui. Lan Jingyi provides a convenient avenue for both exposition-dumping and sass -- saying the things that everyone else is too polite to say -- but we could have gotten that through another character (Jin Ling also plays this role) or introduced another Junior who isn't Lan, like Ouyang Zizhen. Why is it important to the story that Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi are friends?
The Juniors in general represent hope for the world to change, hope for the new generation. In Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi, we see that the terrible loneliness that drove their seniors to disaster in the previous generation, is averted. Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi have a friendship that is close and true, and we are never given reason to doubt it. Their priorities are aligned; it's unlikely that Sect politics or personality conflicts will ever drive them apart. They have what Lan Xichen craved: a friendship that will support them through tragedy and disaster. Their friendship stands to demonstrate that in the new generation, things will get better.
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what paperwork would SAGAU reader do in their free time? is it just mailing letters to loyal followers or more serious things like government affairs?
SAGAU CONCEPT: PAPERWORK AND PUBLIC AFFAIRS
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❀ synopsis: even gods have to do paperwork.
❀ notes: I am winging it (meaning I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing but I'm gonna do it anyway), and I just made it to Liyue too so I'll be having a lot of fun with this. This is Liyue centered btw :]
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Well, for starters yes there will be the occasional letter that one of your acolytes has sneaked into your pile of documents. But it would take days until you notice the letter due to how high the papers are stacked.
Anyways, most of the time it is serious. Sagau darling is usually written to have an abode on Liyue and I like to think it's because that's where most of their work is related to. Due to the fact that Rex Lapis has recently been "assassinated" and during the Rite of Descension he would give advice on how to handle the trade of the coming year.
Well, since they can't get any predictions from the Geo Archon anymore they would always request for sagau darlings' presence to help them manage the trading system, to the point darling just decided "Fuck it, I'll be putting my focus on Liyue now". So now sagau darling is just there managing governmental projects and attending diplomatic meetings to discuss Liyue's finances.
Sagau darling still has to travel across different nations too since there is also Monstadt which doesn't have an active archon. But they are better at managing themselves since it's been like that for a long time. Still, you have to occasionally check up on them.
Back to Liyue, when I say governmental projects it can scale to "Wait, this is actually work" to a "I just want to have a talk with the person who made this idea". Most of the time it's the latter. Sometimes you want to bash your head onto your study table when you read the ideas. No your not signing the permit, and no your not going to allow the idiots to try and demolish a domain to replace it with a factory.
Zhongli feels guilty to see how stressed you are with managing his nation and even suggested taking the mantle as Geo Archon again if it means you will be pleased. You tiredly assure him that there is no need (because you don't want to fuck up the storyline even more) and that it's only natural for you to take care of all of Teyvat.
Meetings are usually centered around trading and finance managing, but they would also be about how you will handle the Fatui and the Treasure hoarders. You have to be very careful with what you say about the Fatui because while most people will trust your word, some won't be too kind about it and will accuse you of putting the citizens in danger. Treasure hoarders will still be treated as criminals but you get to decide their punishment.
Ningguang helps you with whatever business you might be starting. She will even help you lessen your workload and would shut down any sort of rumor connected to you. If you need some time off she will set a schedule for you to help manage your time properly.
Xiao and Ganyu don't know how to help you in this situation, well, maybe Ganyu knows what to do and might even lend you a helping hand. But what the two do know is crowd control. With you being a very famous figure (you are GOD in this world) people will be chasing after you, begging for good fortune and true love. There would be offerings handed to you in person as they say their wishes. And there is some who just want to ask confirmation if a certain rumor is true.
In that case, the two will do their best to guard you. Xiao will be harsher than Ganyu who is trying to be formal in reminding the people that you want to have space. He will push, and even threaten them with his polearm that he will consider their invasion of privacy an active threat to his grace. And that he won't hesitate to follow through with the regulation if they continue to bother you.
But that's about it, I really have nothing to say other than you're very stressed and might have grown white hairs with how much work you have. You can send more ask about this idea but just to let you know I'm not a government worker (yet) and my ideas are probably wrong.
Imagine mixing the time dilation concept with this omg poor reader-
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