#and I don’t necessarily believe in leaving your problems outside of the work place…

[sassyandclassy94]

A Tale from the Market

Today my department manager said “See you Saturday! Remember, come in a good mood so we can deal with the dumb*** boys.” as I was leaving for the day (she’s off Fridays)

I found HER telling ME to to be in a good mood ironic because she’s the one who’s miserable and always screaming and throwing her weight around in the cooler but, I digress.

Anyway, she then told me she’s gonna tell James to work the darn salad pallet on his own and that Abby WILL NOT be helping him. I said yeah right and asked if she’s also gonna tell Ryan not to be a… and I spelled it out for her.

She goes: “Yeah! Yeah I’ll tell Ryan not to be a ‘Richard’! I’ll tell him to leave his problems in his car too! We’re sick of this moody crap!”

Also also!! Apparently one of the front end ladies witnessed Ryan treating me terribly last weekend. Granted I did go crying to her - I was PMSing, I’m not actually that week - and telling her in a tearful panic that he’s been threatening to leave. Yesterday she waved me over and said “I talked to Ryan last night; he’s not going anywhere, so you can rest easy. I told him ‘Look buddy. You’ve got it good here. This is an overall nice place to work, it’s an easy job, and you’ve got a sweet coworker! So please, stop being a ‘Richard’, okay? Don’t mess this up.” (Fun fact! This lady calls me and Ryan “The produce king and queen”, and I’m not gonna lie. It makes me feel so good and like we’re a dynamic duo or something)

Once again, I’m gonna win over this little turd like Sledge won over Snafu, BY GOLLY. With a lot of prayer and the same amount of patience, it CAN be done.

[simslegacy5083]

Today's (4/21/2025) Episode: An Adoption Evaluation

As soon as the couple stepped off the teleporter for their adoption interview, Hunter called out ��Skye, Elyse! Over here. So nice to see you again!”

“Thank you for taking the time to speak with us” Skye stepped into xir uncle’s outstretched arms.

“It looks like you’re… expecting?” xe continued, fighting down a surge of envy as they made their way inside.

“Well yes” Hunter grinned, placing a hand possessively on his protruding belly. “There’s really no hiding it these days! This here is my little miracle. I miscarried quite a few times in my youth when my ex-wife and I were trying to start a family, but I agreed to give it one more shot after my Courtney had so much trouble during her pregnancy with our son. So far, everything is going great!”

“Looking good Marvin!” he called out to their clearly pregnant host before striking up a conversation with one of the waiters. What in Grim’s name!? Skye thought, squeezing Elyse’s hand gently before turning to get them checked in. Is everyone in this place having a baby!?

“So” Hunter began once they were seated “Obviously you’re interested in adopting. That’s great! I read through your application, and it seems like you both have quite a lot going on. How about you start by telling me a little bit more about your current day to day?”

“Well, we both work full time and pick up jobs from freelance agencies as well.” Elyse began as Skye placed their order, eager to impress Hunter with the couple’s work ethic. “Skye’s ancestorial family home is pretty expensive to maintain, so I paint to make a few extra simoleons and Skye is usually working on some sponsorship or other. He also writes reviews anytime we go out to eat. I bet you’re going to write up this place, aren’t you honey?”

“Not necessarily…” Skye laughed nervously when their waiter started in surprise.

“Wow, you two sure are busy!” Hunter grew serious “What is your plan for fitting a new little sim into your jam-packed schedule? Every child needs lots of love and attention, and so many of our kids need even more than usual. They’ve often been orphaned or abandoned and can be pretty fragile.”

Elyse waved away his concern. “We’ll figure it out, and we have our parents and Candor to help. Anyway, I thought we’d be adopting a newborn” she continued “or maybe an infant would be OK. Either way, we’re looking for a baby, so those issues you mentioned shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Before Hunter could respond Skye’s phone erupted loudly “One second, I have to take this” xe said “Grayson… calm down… we’ll be right over.”

Hunter accompanied the couple to Britechester, where they found their tenants standing outside, staring at the suspiciously floating ping pong table.

“I had just gotten home when I heard this scaredy cat start screaming like a baby!” Betty laughed, poking her boyfriend lightly in the ribs “I came running just as she floated out here.”

“You try tripping over a ghost who comes bursting out of the sink on your way to the bathroom and see how you like it!” Greyson fired back at her, grimacing as he awkwardly hopped backwards to grab the fence for balance, clearly trying to avoid putting weight on his right leg. “I almost peed myself and I think I might have actually broken my ankle this time! I’m beginning to believe this place is cursed.”

While Skye worked on pacifying their frazzled tenants “How about you get that ankle looked at and send me your clinic bill Greyson. Of course, this week’s rent is on us…” Elyse marched over and proceeded to give their unwelcome guest a piece of her mind.

“I don’t know who you are, or what you think you’re doing, but you picked the wrong place to do it missy! If you don’t leave RIGHT NOW I’ll tell the immortal mage who owns this place with us to banish you into the deepest, darkest, reaches of the nether!” At that the ghost hung her head and floated quickly away down the street. “And stay out!” Elyse yelled at her retreating back.

“Thanks guys!” Betty smiled, offering her boy her arm “That was un-boo-lievable! Sorry to run, but we have just enough time to get to the clinic before gimpy’s next class. Toodles!” She let the others go ahead towards the portal back to the diner and their interrupted adoption evaluation.

Hunter’s friends had held their food, which was swiftly delivered to the table once they got resettled. “Baby needs lunch” Hunter patted his belly fondly “Let’s eat; then we’ll wrap this interview up.”

Skye picked at xir lackluster meal while the others cleaned their plates over a few more small questions about their non-existent free time. Finally, Hunter turned to his nephew “Its obvious that the two of you are very busy sims, with a lot on your plates. You’re also still very young. I think you should get a few more days under your belts and lighten some of that load before you try to take on the responsibilities of parenthood.”

“I’m sorry” he went on “but I can’t in good conscience put you on the list of families prepared to adopt our vulnerable charges right now. But please, let us know when your situation settles down and we’ll keep all your paperwork on file to revisit this then.”

Furious, Skye burst out of xir seat “How dare you sit there and tell us that we don’t deserve to be parents!? I came to OUR family's foundation because I thought you’d be willing to help us, but I guess the jokes on me. Come on Elyse, we’re leaving.”

Xir wife, crying openly, followed xem through the teleporter to sunny Sulani. Clinging to each other for support, the couple stumbled to a bench not far from the homes they’d grown up in, where the familiar sound of the ocean waves beating on the shore worked its relaxing magic on the pair.

Skye was first to break the silence. “This is… an unfortunate setback, but I promise you I won’t let it stop us. I know we’ll be great parents.”

Elyse, emotionally drained by her hopes being dashed once more just clung to her teddy bear, willing the warm sun to burn away the negative energy that seemed to be chasing her. “I trust you.” she said softly, “I don’t understand why it has to be so hard, but there is nothing we can’t face, together.”

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[seasalteds]

❀ you’re not from around here, are you? i figured because you totally just missed LARK HENDRICKS walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who SHE is? they kind of look like LAURA HARRIER and i could be wrong but i think that they might be THIRTY years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last TWO YEARS. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of JESSICA PEARSON from SUITS. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working in PALMVIEW as the MAYOR’S ASSISTANT. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the MAGICIAN of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty HYPERCRITICAL at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty METHODICAL to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that THREE BEDROOM apartment beside me over in OCEAN DRIVE. i better leave you to it. it was nice meeting you!

stats.

full name: lark annabelle hendricks.     nickname(s): lala (parents only), whatever julian decides to call her on any given day.     age: thirty.     date of birth: november 20th.     star sign: scorpio.     sexuality: bisexual.     hometown: palmview, florida.     occupation: assistant to the mayor.     favourites: forest green, charcuterie, red wine, stationery, matcha, green tea, reading, cocktails (good ones!), long distance running, early mornings, lilies, funny dog videos.

personality.

despite her poised smile and expertly blushed cheeks, whenever you speak with lark, it feels like you’re participating in a business transaction... and you’re on the back foot. she sees everything in facts and figures and is happy to respond to your worries and concerns with the most logical course of action, even if that isn’t necessarily what the other person wants to hear. in her defense, she believes that’s what others want – after all, it’s what she’d want, but of course not everyone thinks like lark, something she struggles to understand. she also struggles with relaxing. like truly, properly, letting go and relaxing. she can’t recall a time in her life (besides that which we shall not name) where she allowed her inhibitions to take full control and she just went with the flow. the flow is not where she belongs, in her eyes, the flow is just another thing she needs to take control of. on the flip side, she has a capability and independence that’s practically unmatched, and has become an elite resource to her loved ones when it comes to planning, prepping, and perfection. you’ll never hear lark asking for help, not ever, not necessarily because it’s ‘weak’ or anything like that, but because she knows she’ll always eventually get it done, so why bother?

label.

does lark do tricks? no, magic is childish folly! (shout out to mr milchick) but she’s represented very well by the magician tarot card. lark takes the universe in her hands and moulds it in her image, manifesting since childhood for the perfect life she has always dreamed of. her life goals, loves, and hates have all been meticulously planned for her, by her, since the moment she gained consciousness. there is nothing she cannot do. on the flip side, lark’s time in the competitive new york banking scene has left a duplicitous stain on her core. all of her loved ones tell her she can keep her hands clean, she’s a good person, thank you so much for helping me out. the problem is, that attitude isn’t extended to anyone outside of her inner circle, and those are the people who find themselves victim to her manipulations. they’re like a bad habit she can’t kick after existing in an environment where everyone is out to get you.

biography.

trigger warnings: depression tw, mental health tw, bullying tw, anxiety tw.

i. born to good parents and blessed with a good brother, lark’s early life was simply good. what was there to say, really? she cooed over her brother when he was born and pushed her tiny finger onto his nose to make a ‘boop’ sound more times than she could count, her dad stayed up late with her to recite math equations and spelling bee answers, her mom patiently spent hours in make believe lessons as lark taught her things she learned thirty years ago. yes, julian was supremely talented and famous and brilliant, but her family never made her feel less than, and it was perhaps what allowed her to flourish into the logistician she became. 

ii. julian had the creative brilliance and lark had the smarts to match. a million extracurriculars before the age of twelve, shelves gilded with gold from all of her math competition and debate team wins (which evolved to include gymnastics when she got older, if you can believe it), and an endless stream of report cards calling her ‘a pleasure to have in class’ and a ’testament to her parents’. she loved cheering her brother on, loved seeing this world of his that was so starkly different to her own. maybe in another life she’d have enjoyed it but no, she had a plan for her life. a strict, 60 year plan that involved retiring early and getting on the property ladder before she hit 25. it became evidently clear to everyone that knew her that she loved organisation and ridding herself of the unknown.

iii. lark was bullied at school. not by anyone who really mattered, in her eyes, but it does something to you as a kid when you believe you’re doing everything right, only to be told by your peers you were doing everything wrong. as a defense, she grew taller and taller, in the metaphorical sense. looking down on those same peers made it much easier to stomach their vicious comments and pointed looks, but the problem was that she continued to grow. soon, people were having to prove themselves to lark. they didn’t get a clean slate with her, you started in hell and had to crawl your way out… and if she was honest, she kind of liked it.

iv. the time for college came and she knew exactly what she wanted to do. undergrad at MIT, masters degree at harvard, then straight into the world of work in new york city as an investment banker. she didn’t have time to mess around, though she certainly had plenty of confused hook ups who didn’t understand why she would kick them out to proudly state “i’ve got assignments due in 5 months”, but things mostly went her way. she returned to palmview only briefly after graduation, mainly to spend time with her family and friends, before jetting off to new york for what would become the defining moment of her life, but in a way she never predicted.

v. new york city was hard, but lark knew that, of course! she wasn’t naive. she didn’t care about the shoebox apartment, or menacing 10+ hour days, she didn’t even bat an eyelid at her nightmarish asshole of a first boss… until she got hit with something she realised she had no control over, herself. she’d upgraded to a beautiful apartment with a wardrobe full of designer clothes, she had a five hundred dollar coffee machine on her kitchen counter, and her bank account was so healthy it could sustain a small community, but as she laid there and watched the nyc lights dance across her bedroom ceiling, lark realised one thing. she was miserable.

vi. the crash. the come down. the spiral. a few horrible weeks later, her alarm didn’t go off, she had to rush out the door with unwashed hair. she got coffee, only for another commuter to walk straight into her and splash it all over her brand new blouse. when she arrived at work, her key card wouldn’t work, and by this point she was at least 5 minutes late. 5 minutes, really, that was all it took. she finally sat down at her desk at 8.07, pressed the power button on her computer, and was met with a message that seemed to gleefully tell her that her system was corrupted. she. lost it. you would never get it out of her, the true events that unfolded that day, but there was damage involved. plenty of it.

vii. the company feared, in this “new day and age”, that lark’s declining mental health prior to the incident would put a target on their backs, so they agreed to not press charges as long as she left quietly. plus they would give her a decent enough reference, but it wouldn’t be perfect. it wouldn’t be what lark wanted… but she supposed that didn’t matter anymore. 

viii. she returned home to palmview, hair still perfectly blowdried and clothes perfectly pressed, but her family knew something had happened. to this day, only julian knows the extent of what lark went through, as she’s made it her life’s mission to retain the reputation she always had in this town. if there’s one thing the world can take from her, it’s that. the first morning after she came back, she was stopped at the front door by her mother, who seemed concerned that lark was armed with a stack of resumes. ‘where are you going, sweetie? why don’t you rest a little?’ ‘i’ll sleep when i’m dead, mom. don’t worry about it, i love you.’ and that was that.

ix. when lark took the role in the mayor’s office, she did what she was asked to do… and then she decided what she was being asked to do wasn’t good enough. she started colour coding, alphabetising, and diary managing like her life depended on it. bit by bit, day by day, lark almost began to actually enjoy her job – and even more shockingly, her boss. benjamin was, at his core, someone who wanted to do the right thing, the good thing, and perhaps it awoke something deep in lark’s core she thought had long fallen asleep. she was still a strict woman with a negative impression of the world, but maybe it wasn’t so bad using what she’d learned to help someone else make it a better place.

x. life is weird now. it didn’t follow her plan and, for the first time ever, lark doesn’t really know what that means. she’s been the mayor’s assistant for just under two years now, and as the days pass by she finds herself increasingly drawn to palmview and its charms. its slower paced life, its quaint shops – but there’s a hungry pit forming in her stomach, swirling and swirling. will it be enough for the rest of her life? will she have to choose between the hunger and her happiness? will she have a choice? 

[pedgito]

Howdy, fellow Taurus ♉️. If you’re up to it, the only thing my brain can focus on in the last three months is sitting on Eddie Munson’s face. If you write it, I’ll read it. 😎 if you don’t wanna write it, I’ll just keep myself content with the goodies you’ve already blessed us with. ❤️‍🔥

Cheers ✌🏼🤟🏼

author's note: lucky for you, i already had an idea for something like this planned but this ask gave me the push i needed, so, thank you for that.

cw: 18+ (i will chase you minors away with a stick), oral (f recieving), fem!reader, friends/fuckbuddies situation, fingering, talks of masturbation, eddie being a wiseass (as always)

word count: 2.2k

“I can help you, you know, consider it a friend's favor,” Eddie shrugs, cigarette tucked between his lips, end burning a bright amber on inhale, “or whatever it’s called.”

“Friends don’t go down on each other, Eddie.” Sprawled out on his bed, hands planted behind you to help keep you upright, Eddie flicks at the tip of your worn out vans. “Plus, the problem isn’t with me not being able to—I can, easily. It’s when other people do it. It just doesn’t work.”

Eddie hums in disapproval, cigarette held carefully between his thumb and pointer finger. He always looked so perplexed, constantly trying to figure something out. Eddie scratched at his eyebrow, “You are sorely mistaken, sweetheart.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes in frustration as your head lulls back. “What? Like I don’t know my own body?” The nerve on him. “Fine—be honest, you can get there easier on your own than by some girl sucking you off, right?”

Eddie shrugs nonchalantly, hands throw out in a sign of agreement—or compliance, at least. “Yeah, I guess. But, that’s just because I know what I like—guys are easier, we’re not as complicated.”

“Oh, so now I’m complicated?” You counter, tongue poking your cheek, the smallest trace of a smirk on your face. His words, not yours. “Count ‘em out, right now. How many girls?”

“That I’ve been with?” He leans forward, stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray placed on his nightstand.

“That you’ve made orgasm.” You say pointedly, prodding for more information, even if it was a risky idea.

Eddie thinks slowly, counting out on his hand, quickly surpassing what one hand could handle and adding the other. He holds them up in your face. Eight. “You’re bluffing.” There was no way.

“Hey, not all dudes are bad at taking care of women—like I said, I’d help. But you seem pretty adamant about it.” His hands cross over his lap. You’re trying to find every reason, any reason, that this was a bad idea.

For one, Eddie was your friend. Not necessarily your best friend, but it would definitely leave a lasting imprint on the friendship you did have. And two—well, that was really the only problem.

Screw it.

“Fine. Let’s do it.” It was a done deal. Eddie perks up from his position on his bed, eyes bulging. “Just because I’m curious, that’s it. One and done, we don’t talk about—okay?”

“Deal.” He laughs lightheartedly, still in a state of disbelief. “So, when do you want to do this?”

“Now.” It was obvious, wasn’t it?

“Now?” Eddie baulks. Apparently not,

“Duh?” Boys were so dense, weren’t they?

“Uh—Okay. Yeah.” Eddie stammers, moving toward you cautiously. “I mean, should we just—get to it or, maybe kiss first? Personally I feel a little weird just sitting you on my face without, at least, a little foreplay.”

“Sitting on your face?” You ask incredulously, “You’re kidding?”

“Not even a little bit.” Eddie’s smiling now, feeling smug at your reaction. He couldn’t believe how little you’ve been allowed to explore outside of your vanilla sex encounters and personal body exploration. It’s not like he was judging, it was just surprising.

“Uh,” You think about kissing him, but it doesn’t feel right. You shake your head, a light blushing creeping up your face, “I really don’t think we should.”

“Your call, princess.” He remarks, slowly reclining against his mattress as you crawl toward him. Anxious hands reach for the belt on your jeans, barely able to unfurl the clasp. Eddie offers help, his hands instantly soothing your own uneasiness. Like an expert with his own constant belt wearing, he manages to get it off in record time, flipping the button of your pants open.

Yanking the snug jeans down your leg, you remember halfway through that you hadn’t even managed to slip your shoes off. Eddie laughs softly, quick to untie the laces and slip them off for you, allowing you to wiggle the rest of the way out of your jeans, letting your panties fall with them.

You had nowhere to hide, the dim, orange tinted lights of Eddie’s trailer illuminating your bottom half, shirt only barely covering the top of your bare thighs. “Come on,” He urges, hand wrapping gently around the back of your thigh, feeling the cold sting of metal against your backside, his hand resting just underneath the curve of your ass, “we’ll take it slow.”

You nod, airing out a shaky breath as you lifted your leg over his lap, scooting far enough forward until you hovered over his chest, both of his hands now having found your thighs, squeezing gently at the flesh. “I should probably warn you,” a quiet laugh bubbles from your chest, “I can’t really hold it in—so if I get too loud, I’m sorry.”

“No complaints here.” Eddie smirks, something faint tugging at your heart. He looked so soft underneath you, his care for you evident. “Let’s see if I can make you scream, yeah?”

“Bold assumption,” You smile, letting Eddie pull you closer, cunt nearly touching his chin, “we’ll see how much of it is all talk.”

And really, it should feel weird. But, the second Eddie drags his tongue against the inside of your folds, all of that disappears. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling, not at all. But the angle, the idea of hovering over him the entire time, trapped between your legs, it felt ridiculous—but it also felt fucking amazing.

You giggle softly, his breath tickling against your sensitive pussy. “Your hair, Eddie,” You say quietly, the room feeling eerily silent. “It’s tickling my thighs.”

“Shit, sorry—“ He laughs, hastily pulling it away. You quickly shove one of your spare hair ties resting around your wrist at him, which he takes, haphazardly tying his hair back, “probably should cut it soon.”

“Don’t you dare.” You reply quicker than he expects.

“Got it, princess.” Eddie wasn’t sure he could ever commit to cutting it off, not after the effort it took to grow it out, through his awkward stages and all. “I wouldn’t dare—now stop talking.”

It’s not a demand, but you obey, hands resting against your own thighs as Eddie returns his mouth to your core, licking into you slowly, more teasing than explorative. His nose bumps your clit, just barely, but you make a small noise that has Eddie chuckling against you. He does it again, more forceful, his hands having forgo your thighs and moving directly to your ass, squeezing gently.

“O-Oh,” Your breath hitches, “That felt—“ You're at a loss for words, which was new for you.

“Oh, just wait.” Eddie teases, tongue tipping into your entrance, causing you to jolt upwards, but Eddie has a strong grip, steadying you easily. “Hey, you can sit—don’t worry, I can handle it.”

You didn’t realize how much work you’ve put into hovering over his mouth until your thighs started to burn, muscles tensed all over. You nod sheepishly, lower yourself against his mouth. And god, the wonders that did.

You moan loudly, unexpectedly, the feeling of his tongue dipping inside you and back out, lips coming up to wrap around your clit, sucking gently. “Shit.” You gasp, hands clenched into tight fists. “Do that again.”

Eddie listens diligently, sucking harder, hands creeping around toward your front to wrap around the top of your thighs, pulling you closer, if that was even possible. You can’t resist the urge to grind down against his face, shameless and eager.

Eddie’s hair was still slightly askew, held up but barely, you couldn’t resist the urge to bury your hand in the curls at the crown of his head, squeezing lightly. He groans through his closed mouth, the vibration causing you to yank even harder.

“Fuck,” He whimpers quietly, mouth pulling away from you. “You mind—mind if I use my fingers too?” Eddie asks, mouth covered in a sheen of your wetness. This was ridiculous. “It helps, trust me.” He adds.

You nod jerkily, “I trust you.” And it’s all he needs to hear, thumb slipping over your clit as he buried his mouth against your cunt, wasting no time to lick inside you now. You’ve never been fucked by a tongue before—fingers? Yes. A dick? Somewhat. You weren’t sure most of the men you’ve been with have even managed to last more than a few minutes—all of your sexual experiences more than lackluster, you’d be ashamed to describe them to Eddie if he asked, afraid he might make some assumption of you. He wouldn't, of course. But, you couldn't help feeling that way.

Eddie rubs the sensitive nub diligently, a small swarm of heat coiling in your lower belly, that all too familiar feeling creeping close. That quick? It’s all you could think. No fucking way.

“Wait—” It's a sudden shout, startling Eddie. He pulls away without question, looking up at you expectantly.

“What? What’s wrong?” He sounds breathless, his chest heaving slightly underneath you.

“I could’ve sworn I was about to—“ You laugh at how silly you sound, like this wasn’t the whole point of Eddie’s demonstration. Demonstration—like it was a fucking project. You had to let go, let it happen.

“Come?” Eddie finishes for you, voice dripping with amusement. “Told you.”

“Oh, shut up.” You shove his shoulder lightly, hips canting toward him, eager for his mouth to latch back onto you, “Keep going.”

Eddie wastes no time, devouring you like a man starved, fingers a consistent pressure inside you as he scissors and curls his fingers, knowing just the right spots to hit.

Your face scrunches up in pleasure, hands coming back to rest on his lower abdomen, shirt riding up your stomach. You grip onto the thin material of his own shirt, the fabric bunching in your hand. His free hand roams across the expanse of your belly, resting just above your pelvis, almost like he’s daring you to move, a firm pressure to keep you in place. You didn’t want to move, you couldn’t—not with his fingers curling in you so deliciously, his tongue feeling like sin as he lapped at your wetness. You’ve never felt this dirty but still somehow empowered in the same instance.

“Gonna come, Eddie.” You warn, gently forcing your hips away from him. But, that wasn’t happening. Not in a million fucking years. “Ed—Eddie, seriously.” You sighed out, still desperately grinding your face against his mouth and hands, allowing yourself to fade away into the feeling of intoxicated pleasure.

“On my face, princess.” He mumbles underneath you, not daring to take a second away from your cunt. “Come on my face.”

And if it wasn’t that, that did you in, it was definitely the last desperate flick against your clit, your body snapping away from reality, taken over by the rapturous feeling of his warm tongue against your cunt as you came, nearly screaming out into the silence of the trailer. You didn’t have the time to feel ashamed or worried, not even caring if the neighbors could hear.

“Fuck! Fuck—Eddie, chill out,” Shout turning into a short giggle as Eddie kept going, licking at your overstimulated cunt, like if he left any of your wetness behind it would be a crime against humanity. And Eddie just couldn’t have that, “Okay, okay.”

Eddie pulls back with a satisfied grin, an embedded ‘I told you do’ expression covering his face. “You all good?” He asks instead, and your heart swells. You nod jerkily, scooting backwards on your knees and away from his face. It’s just enough for Eddie to lift himself up on his elbows, hair still tied back in a hysterical manner, clearly not rushed at all.

“Yes.” It’s the most honest answer you’ve given anyone.

“So,” His finger taps the top of your thigh, almost forgetting how exposed you were, he pulls back slightly—the last thing he wanted to do was start to make things uncomfortable, though you weren’t sure where that line was drawn now, “what’s your conclusion?”

Like this was some scientific hypothesis that you were doing research on—clearly he had piqued your curiosity, but this wasn’t some cut and dry situation where you couldn’t enjoy yourself. You had, immensely. And if he had asked you again, you would’ve agreed in a heartbeat, but he didn’t need to know that.

“It was good,” You shrugged, “but don’t let it go to your head.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh in disbelief, chest flexing at the motion underneath his shirt. “That’s rich, coming from the one who just had my head in—“

“Eddie,” You warn softly, a single digit held to his lips, effectively shushing him, “No.”

He throws his hands up defensively, backing down. “Fine. But, you know who to come to when those douchebags can’t do the job for you.” It was a bold statement, but he meant it. There was no inflection in his voice, no sign that he was treating it as a joke. He meant every word. “You deserve better than that.”

And normally you would shove his face away, snark back with some stupid remark, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to do that now.

“Well, maybe this doesn’t have to be a one time thing,” You suggest, still valiantly aware of how bare you were. “And maybe I can show just how much I can help you, if you’re up for it.”

Friends, still friends, of course. Just friends that saw each other naked and gave each other orgasm. No big deal.

“Up for it?” Eddie asks, flipping you over on your backside, “You’re kidding me, right?”

You weren’t, he soon found out.

[atticuswritesstuff]

Chrollo with a smarty pants/genius darling who acts out or tries to escape just because they’re bored/understimulated?

Author's note: I actually really fucking love this prompt so I am SUPER excited for this one. I too get very bored/understimulated often. Sorry, I got to it late cuz I just got back from a Montana trip!

Yandere!Chrollo x Bored!Reader

Summary: Chrollo's darling becomes bored being locked up all the time, decides to take yet another unsupervised trip out of the mansion.

Warnings: Anal/Assplay, overstimulation, punishment, spanking, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, yandere themes, BDSM themes, degradation

Character Description: afab, she/her use that's it

Word count: 4.5k

Attempt number seven. Seven times you had slipped through his fingers since the beginning of the year alone, each time becoming more and more elaborate.

Chrollo scoffed, storming through the woods, scanner in hand. It was beeping softly, indicating you weren't far.

It wasn't like you made any attempt to escape discreetly, jamming a fork into the neck of one of Chrollo's guards, puncturing his jugular before you made your way through the garden to the edge of the forest. As Chrollo watched a recording of it from the cameras, he was shocked at how nonchalantly you stabbed him before calmly walking off. If you had intended to run far, you weren't moving very fast.

The tracker started beeping a little faster now. He was getting closer.

The early April air was nipping at his cheeks, he couldn't fathom how you were out here in your pajamas, barefoot at that. Chrollo was more worried about you than just finding you. While your previous attempts had been clever, methodical, and downright genius, this time was very different to him. As far as he knew, you'd never killed anyone, and now you had decided to not only kill someone but patiently wait for him to be unfocused before sneaking upon him. You planned this.

Chrollo walked a couple more meters, finding the tracker was leading him to the nearby lake. When he came to the forest's edge, he could see you sitting at the edge of the dock, staring up at the moon.

You heard him approaching as soon as he broke through the treeline, it took him a bit longer to retrieve you than expected, although you attributed that to him thinking you were going to try and run far. A couple miles from the house wasn't necessarily far for a commoner, but this was farther than you'd ever been allowed.

Chrollo's heavy footsteps walked the length of the dock, stopping right behind you. He knew you would come quietly, after the first few times, you'd stopped escaping to try and get away, instead, you found the chase to be much more thrilling.

"Time to go, darling," He hummed nonchalantly.

"Five more minutes," You replied, swishing your feet through the near-freezing water, "The moon is so pretty tonight, wouldn't you agree?"

Chrollo gazed down at you, you were surprisingly clean considering you'd just stabbed someone. Not a single drop of blood on you anywhere. The only thing shielding you from the cold being a thin cami and a shamefully short pair of shorts.

Chrollo always admired your body, but the pajamas were a nice touch. They were a recent purchase, baby blue fabric with white lace trim, god how he wanted to tear the set off you.

"I didn't think you'd have it in you to take a man's life, darling," Chrollo stated.

"I didn't either," You chuckled, "But it's done now."

"Why not just sneak away?" He replied, sitting on the dock next to you, "He was unfocused, you could've done it easily if this was where you intended to go all along."

"You're right, I didn't have to kill him," You sighed, bringing one of your feet onto the dock, "I just wanted to see if I could. You left an anatomy book on your desk, I found the major arteries of the body to be very interesting."

"Now that I think about it," You continued, "Maybe I should've run farther, seeing you so desperately trying to find me is rather amusing."

“You enjoy being chased like a rabbit?” Chrollo mused.

“Believe it or not the thrill is more exciting than anything you’ve ever gifted to me,” You scoffed, “At least running gave me something to do that required thought. Something you seem to forget to provide.”

Poking at Chrollo’s care tactics wasn’t smart, but you didn’t know how else to get through to him that your current environment was extremely understimulating, and that you needed more. You could tell he was growing upset, but he wouldn’t dare show it outside of the house.

You pulled your knee to your chest, resting your cheek against it, "Do I have to go back?"

"Of course you do, darling," Chrollo replied, a warm hand rubbing up and down your back, "Why wouldn't you?"

You scoffed, "Probably because being a prisoner of marble and glass is dreadfully boring."

Chrollo's hand stopped, "You think the life I've worked so hard to build is boring?"

"Yup," You replied flatly, "Honestly I thought you kidnapping me would be a lot more fun, but it's even more boring than my old life."

Chrollo was becoming angrier with each word that came out of your mouth.

"Don't get me wrong, I know how hard you try, but my god I don't know how you stand it. You're sweet and all, but you're gonna bore me to death sooner or later, escaping actually gives me something to do," You hummed, pulling your other foot out of the water, "Anyways, we can go back now, this chase was more boring than I expected."

You rose from your place, turning to walk back to your cage. It took Chrollo a minute to get up and follow you, partially from the shock of your completely arrogant and nonchalant demeanor. The person you had become over the past two years almost reminded him of a certain magician he once knew.

Chrollo eyed you as your hips swayed, every muscle in your leg flexing and relaxing as you walked. It was something he adored about you, before he took you, you were one of your tribe's best, strongest dancers. The way you swayed and glided while you did the most basic of tasks was alluring to him. Now, he just watched you sit around and observe everything.

The view from walking behind you wasn't necessarily bad, though. Your pajama shorts gave him a nice view of your ass as you walked.

Sauntering through the woods, you could no longer hide how cold you were, the incessant shivering and blue tint to your skin proved that fact. Your feet even more so from being in the water.

You knew Chrollo was upset with what you'd said, you could tell immediately, but keeping the truth from him wasn't an option anymore. You had started to care for him some time ago. You really appreciated him, but god if he didn't allow you to do something you were going to lose your mind.

When you could just barely make out the edges of the garden approaching, you stopped mid-path, "Chrollo?"

He caught up to you in an instant, "Yes, darling?"

"I don't want to go back if I have to live like this," You felt tears well up in your eyes, "Please."

His hands found your hips, "Live like what? Talk to me darling, how can I make it better?"

"I don't want to just sit around and wait for you to come back. I'm tired of you being at my beck and call. O-Or just fucking sitting around waiting for you to come back," You felt a solemn tear roll down your cheek, "It's so fucking boring. Please just take me with you or give me something I can do for you or-"

"Darling," He cut you off with a firm hand over your mouth, the other still settled on your hip. He shushed you softly, lessening the pressure on your mouth, "Don't panic, I'm listening. I promise I'm hearing you, just speak slowly alright?"

You nodded, he took his hand off your mouth slowly, "Keep going, what can I do to help you?"

You thought about it, more tears spilling down your cheeks, "Take me with you. Don't leave me by myself anymore. I just want to be useful."

Scooping you up bridal style as he headed towards the garden, "I understand. Even in your old life, you were always helping others, weren't you?"

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and tucking your head into him. Closing your eyes, you breathed in his scent, trying to commit it to memory.

Chrollo's feet hit the marble floors of the hallway that led into the house, you could feel his warmth returning as he carried you inside.

"While I understand your frustrations, you did try to escape my love," He started, bringing you into your shared bedroom, "And that requires a punishment."

You winced, shaking your head against him, "Please, not again! I'm really sorry Sir I can do better-"

"No," He shushed you, setting you on the foot of the bed, "I have the solution to your problem, but only if you take your punishment, alright?"

You nodded slightly, your tear-stained cheeks slightly puffy and red from the cold.

"Alright," He purred, his hands rubbing up and down your shoulders, "I'll try to make this at least somewhat pleasant for you, ok?"

You nodded once again, finding comfort in the fact that he was at least going to please you.

"Lay back for me," He stated, pushing you back by your shoulders, "I'll be right back."

You stared up at the ceiling in anticipation, the last punishment was hard enough, but you couldn't pass up the opportunity to finally get out of the house. Chrollo had returned from the closet, setting something on the bench at the foot of the bed. He took off his shirt before crawling over you.

"You know what your punishment is, right?" He asked, a face cupping your cheek.

You nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl," He whispered, leaning down to give you the softest of kisses, just barely ghosting over your lips as he pulled the knife out of his back pocket.

Pressing it to your throat, you froze, knowing it had already begun.

"Just focus on me, darling," Chrollo whispered against your lips, "I won't cut you."

He kissed you once more, harder this time as he slowly dragged the knife down your neck. It was a 50/50 chance he would intentionally cut you, even if he said he wouldn't. It was the only thing he'd ever lied to you about, knowing that made your heart race.

His tongue invaded your mouth as he slid the knife down your chest, coming back up to cut your bralette off in between your breasts. You didn't even register the pain from him grazing you with the knife until it started throbbing.

You looked down, seeing a thin line of blood-forming directly in between your breasts.

"Whoops," he chuckled, gazing down at the same mark you were. He sat up, straddling your hips and now pinning you to the bed by your throat. Your bare chest tempted him to carve his name into your breasts, then you'd really know who you belonged to. Chrollo briefly cut the straps of your bralette, allowing the flimsy fabric to fall away, revealing your breasts to him.

Setting the knife aside, Chrollo dragged his nails down your chest, briefly squeezing your waist before leaning down to press open-mouthed kisses all over your neck. He trailed downwards, backing off the bed as he kissed your waist, your breasts, swirling his tongue around each of your nipples lightly before backing off entirely.

"Turn over," Chrollo demanded.

"No." You said timidly, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"I'm sorry?" Chrollo replied smugly, "Wanna repeat that, darling?"

"I said n-no," You said, now even quieter than before.

"No? You don't want to be punished?" He asked, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs teasingly.

You shook your head to confirm that you indeed did not want to be punished in the way he was thinking.

"Even after killing my guard and escaping? You sure you don't want to be punished?" He asked again, his condescending tone making you whimper as you shook your head again.

Chrollo sighed, "Very well."

What? He's serious?

Untying the bandana from his forehead, he was quick to grab your hands and tie them together, placing them above your head, "I'll please you since I know that's what you really want."

Your heart jumped in your chest, somehow excited at the fact that you had gotten out of it.

Chrollo wasted no time cutting your shorts off, leaving you completely naked and exposed to him. He brought your legs up to the edge of the bed, bending them close to your chest, "Stay like this for a moment, ok?"

You gave him brief 'mhm' before he left, crossing the room to his chest of drawers. You heard him open it, the soft sound of things being moved around before he quickly came back. Craning your neck up to see what had been retrieved, you were quickly thwarted by Chrollo who pushed your head back down.

"Patience," He sighed, "Be a good girl now, hm?"

You grumbled, but let him hold you down. You knew this routine all too well, reminiscing about the fond memories of your legs pulling against the rope he was now starting to tie around your ankles. He took the time to tie up each leg, making sure they would not be able to come out of the bent position he'd placed them in.

"So pretty," Chrollo cooed, rubbing his hands up and down your waist, "Alright darling, eyes closed."

You shut your eyes as he brought a blindfold to your eyes, the soft silk being tied around the back of your head.

"There, now that you can't fight me," He started, using brute force to flip you over so you were bent over the edge of the bed, knees on the bench, "We can begin your punishment."

"That's not fair Si-"

A sharp smack was delivered to your ass, "Hush."

You went quiet, whimpering into the plush comforter.

"You"

Smack.

"Broke"

Smack.

"My"

Smack.

"Rules"

Each word was punctuated by a harsh spanking to one of your ass cheeks. You were only four in and it already stung.

"I'm sorry!" You cried, trying to wriggle away from Chrollo, "Please Sir!"

"Mm, please what darling? Please punish you?" He hummed, rubbing your bottom with smooth circles.

"Nuh!" You whined, your voice becoming whinier under the threat of fully submitting.

"I told you I would please you, but only if you took your punishment like a good girl," Chrollo hummed, leaving a kiss on each cheek, "Do you really expect me to please you when you're not going to comply darling?"

You whined, wiggling a bit more.

"What do good girls say, darling?" Chrollo asked, softly rubbing your arched back.

"P-please," You huffed.

"Please what, love?" He replied, quietly undoing the bottle of lube he had brought to the bed.

"Please punish me," You whispered, "Sir."

"That's my good girl," He hummed.

Chrollo squirted a bit of lube onto his first two fingers, letting it warm a bit before bringing them to your ass. Mewling as Chrollo started rubbing your puckered hole, he wasted no time plunging a digit into your ass.

"Fuck!" You cried out, feeling him slipping in and out up to his first knuckle. You shook against the rope.

"Aww, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were starting to enjoy this." He teased, pushing his finger up to his second knuckle, "You're taking me so well, I can only imagine how well you're going to do later."

You gave him a long, drawn-out moan in response. He wanted you to beg, either for more or for him to stop, either way, he wanted you to be a mess.

The discomfort started to fade as he pushed his two fingers fully into you. Now, you could feel your arousal dripping as he steadily finger-fucked your ass, trying to stretch you out best he could with just two fingers.

"Already taking my fingers so well," Chrollo cooed, picking up the pace, "I think you're ready to be punished, don't you?"

You shook your head, knowing what would come next.

"Oh come now, don't be like that darling." He replied, slowly pulling his fingers from your tight hole.

You whined at the loss of contact, while it wasn't quite the pleasure you wanted, it was starting to feel good. You waited patiently as Chrollo left the bed, finding the necessary tools needed in his bedside drawer before coming back to the bench.

In one hand, he held a set of purple anal beads that gradually got bigger, in the other, a vibrating wand he fully intended on using on you. While the vibrator wasn't ever used during a punishment, Chrollo saw it to be a mercy for your honesty, therefore, he would keep his word, making his punishment at least somewhat pleasurable for you.

"Tonight's going to be a bit different, love," Chrollo started, setting the vibrator on the bench, he began covering the anal beads in a generous amount of lube, "I need you to trust me, ok?"

You didn't know what he meant by different, you assumed more painful, but knew that there would be no pleasure without pain, "I trust you."

"Good," He hummed, rubbing the first ball against your lubed hole, "You ready?"

Your faint 'mhm' had Chrollo pushing the first ball in, earning a whimper from you. It wasn't much bigger than Chrollo's finger, but you could still feel it. Mere seconds later, he was pushing the second ball in, the equivalent to a little more than two of his fingers.

You were quietly whimpering and mewling into the comforter, hoping he wouldn't hear how much you were enjoying the slow stretch.

"I need your hands," Chrollo announced, pulling you firmly upward by your shoulders, "Put them here."

He shoved your arms down toward your pussy before pushing you back down on your chest. Before, your hands had been resting on the comforter above your head. Now, they were firmly squished between your thighs. You felt Chrollo press something round into your hands before tying your wrists up. Mid-tie, he readjusted the foreign object to rest against your clit.

The vibrator.

You began to squirm a little bit, knowing that this is what he meant by tonight being a little different. You waited patiently as he tied the ropes tight, making sure you wouldn't be able to move it away, then he turned it on.

"Ah...oh fuck," You moaned, the vibrator already working to make you come undone, "Sir.."

Your moans were becoming more sultry, needier, you began panting as your legs worked up to a steady shake, he knew he would break you tonight at this rate.

"See? I told you I would please you," Chrollo hummed, pushing the next ball in, you cried out even louder, "You have permission to cum whenever you'd like."

Knowing this was going to make it a lot harder, he wanted you to submit, to break, "D..Da-Ah!"

You were stuttering as the next ball was pushed in, your asshole stretching around it.

"What was that? I don't think I heard you, princess," Chrollo teased.

"Daddy!" You wailed, giving into the submission he so desperately wanted. Your pussy began fluttering around nothing as the vibrator sent deep shock waves through your pussy, "Please!"

"Please what, princess?" He smiled, palming your ass cheeks.

"Please punish me!" You moaned, needing more stimulation, "I'm sorry I tried to escape! I've been a bad girl!"

The sight of you writhing under him was pathetic, you were truly becoming a mess and he hadn't even really touched you. Seeing how hard you were trembling, Chrollo took pity on you. Watching your pretty pussy clench and release, needing some form of stimulation, he decided to at least grant you this mercy.

Plunging two fingers into your dripping hole, he crooked his fingers, quickly finding your g-spot, "Is this what my darling needs?"

"Yes! Oh, fu-fuck please daddy!" You moaned, fucking yourself on his fingers, "Gonna cum!"

"You have permission princess, it's ok," Chrollo reaffirmed, working his fingers inside you.

It only took seconds, the knot that had been building inside you finally burst, causing you to clench around his fingers. The vibrator held firm against your clit after, the pleasure becoming painful. You started to cry through the blindfold.

Chrollo licked the mess off his fingers before slowly starting to pull the anal beads out one by one. You whined and whimpered as he did so, the action only causing you to clench to avoid feeling empty. It did nothing, Chrollo continued to pull the remaining few beads out, your asshole gaping slightly

"Mm, you're doing so well baby," Chrollo sighed, pulling his own pants down. Pumping his cock a few times before rubbing the crown of it up and down your slick.

"Daddy! D-Don't do that!" You whined, trying to pull away from his ministrations.

"What? This?" Chrollo asked innocently, repeating the action.

You lost it, cumming on the spot as the tip ghosted over your pussy, your shame covered your face in a heavy blush. It barely took anything for you to cum with the stupid vibrator continuing to buzz against your clit at the highest setting.

"S-Sorry daddy.." you slurred, still trembling as you felt your mind go blank.

"Aww, is my baby that much of a cock drunk little slut?" Chrollo teased, pressing the tip of his painfully erect cock into your ass, "I know you are, my pretty little darling wanted to be punished this whole time, huh?"

You heard him, but could barely form enough of a sentence to answer.

Chrollo pushed into you slowly, relishing in the tightness of your ass, your gummy walls fluttering around him as you were overstimulated. The feeling of being full had your tongue lolling out of your mouth.

Once fully seated inside you, Chrollo slowly dragged his nails along your back before palming your ass. Pulling your ass cheeks apart with his thumbs, he gave a few long, slow thrusts, watching the way you clenched around his cock.

"Fuck," Chrollo moaned, "I almost don't even want to punish you with the way this tight little ass wraps around my cock."

You could only moan in response, trembling as he continued his tortuously slow pace.

"How many spankings do you think you'll receive from tonight's actions, princess?" Chrollo halted, only halfway inside as his hands trailed upwards along your outer thighs, "I think forty is a good number? What say you, love?"

"Nuh-uh!" You cried, wiggling against his touch as one of his hands left your skin, "Thirty!"

Chrollo chuckled at your offer, "I was originally going to settle for twenty-five, but thirty works for me, darling."

With a crushing force, Chrollo's hand came down.

Smack!

"Count, or I'll start over," Chrollo demanded.

"O-One," You whispered.

His other hand rose while the other soothed the spot he had just spanked.

Smack!

"Two!"

Smack!

"Three," Chrollo's hands were relentless, switching cheeks each time he smacked you in order to give your poor skin a break. He was merciful enough to rub the spot he had spanked before doing it again.

It took minutes to work your way up to the end, you came twice throughout the process as the vibrator held firm against your clit.

Smack!

"Twenty-eight!"

Smack!

"Twenty-nine!"

Smack!

"Th-Thirty!" You were sobbing, shaking uncontrollably under the weight of Chrollo's punishment.

"There we go, all done," Chrollo cooed, softly rubbing your cherry-red ass as he set another slow pace, "You did so well for me, darling."

A warmth grew in your chest, you really did enjoy being praised by Chrollo, even if it was after a punishment with his dick in your ass. He enjoyed it too, loving the way you clenched around his cock each time he spanked you, it took a lot of focus to not cum mid punishment.

You were writhing the pressure in your core already starting to build again, your trembling never stopped, even throughout your punishment. Chrollo kept up his word to please you, but god at what cost?

"I want you to cum for me again, angel," Chrollo hummed, his hands finding your waist as he began picking up the pace, "I want to absolutely ruin you."

"No no no! Daddy, I can't!" You sobbed, knowing you would be doing more than just cumming if this kept up.

"Oh? Is my princess trying to hide the pretty mess I know she can make?" Chrollo asked, knowing what you were implying.

Grabbing the knife, he cut the ropes from your legs. He rolled your limp form over onto your back, yanking the blindfold off so he could watch as you helped overstimulate yourself. With one arm by your head to support himself, he guided his cock back into your ass, resuming the brutal pace he set.

You held Chrollo's gaze as he went absolutely feral, drilling your ass while holding one of your legs up over his shoulder. You could barely conceal your tears at this point, broken moans showing him just how bad you needed a break, but he was intent on making you squirt before he stopped.

"I know you need this," Chrollo purred, pressing his forehead to yours, "Just give in to my love, your body wants this."

You started to shake harder, legs trembling even more aggressively, he was pushing you to the edge.

"Fuck! Da...Daddy," You groaned, knowing you were only seconds away, "Kiss me, p-please."

Pulling you into his lips as you came, your screams and cries muffled against Chrollo's lips as you drenched his cock and thighs with your cum. You barely registered the feeling of his cock throbbing as he filled your ass with cum. It took several seconds for your orgasm to stop before you were finally able to collapse back onto the bed.

Chrollo was quick to shut the vibrator off as he pulled out, knowing your body had enough. He admired the way his cum began slowly trickling out of your ass while he untied your hands.

"You did so well, darling," Chrollo praised, leaving soft kisses on the inside of your calf, "So so good."

His kisses trailed upwards, his lips softly tickling your thighs as he caressed them. He continued upward with his continued praise and love, making sure each part of you had received some form of physical attention before kissing you passionately.

You were still panting, your heart thrumming in your ears as he brushed your hair away from your face. At least he held true to his word.

With your hands now free, you pulled him in for another kiss, wanting to stay enveloped in his warmth forever.

"So, my little brat," He started, interlacing his fingers with yours, "Was this enough of a cure for your boredom?"

You giggled, giving him a weak smile, "It was, but as I recall, you mentioned what sounded like a more long-term solution to this problem."

"Ah, that," Chrollo sighed, rolling over next to you. You turned on your side the best you could as he gazed up at the ceiling, "I was thinking you could officially become a spider."

Your breath hitched in your throat, "You mean like part of the phantom-troupe?"

"Yes," He replied curtly, "You'd be with me all day every day, same rules apply, but it would give you a chance to use that intelligence of yours."

You grinned, thinking it over, "Sure, why not?"

[missmentelle]

What makes a codependent relationship? Is it healthy for someone to rely on you as a constant source for support, talking all the time? Getting seperation anxiety and experiencing extreme stress when they are without you? Is it selfish to not necessarily reciprocate that stress?

Let's start by defining what a codependent relationship is.

In a codependent relationship, one person (the codependent) consistently enables the dysfunction of another person, often assuming a "caretaker" or "protector" role. The dysfunctional person usually struggles with a serious issue that may make it difficult for them to function on their own - often addiction, mental illness, or serious underachievement/irresponsibility - and the codependent partner will make extreme personal sacrifices to take care of this person and shield them from the consequences of their actions.

Codependent relationships aren't always romantic relationships - they can be found between friends, parents/children, coworkers, other family members, or any other type of relationship. Wherever they exist, are very unhealthy for both of the people involved in them. The codependent person focuses so heavily on the dependent person's needs that they entirely neglect their own, while the dysfunctional person is enabled to continue being dysfunctional and is often prevented from making any kind of progress toward recovery.

Common traits of codependent people include:

a fear of being alone. They often seek out relationships with people who will depend on them and encourage that dependency to ensure that the other person will not leave them.

extreme fixation on the feelings and needs of others. They often view their own needs as unimportant or secondary and prioritize the needs of others, even when this has not been asked of them.

a compulsive need to "fix" the problems of others. when they see a person who is struggling, they feel the overwhelming need to step in and start "fixing" the situation, even if doing so is not their responsibility.

low self-esteem. They often have chronic issues with self-esteem, and don't feel that they "deserve" to have their own needs prioritized. Their self-esteem is often tied to their ability to maintain their caretaking role at all costs, even when it is incredibly harmful to them.

controlling and perfectionist tendencies. Codependent people often struggle to cope when they don't have high amounts of control in their relationships, or when things aren't done "just so". They gravitate towards caretaking roles where they have high amounts of control, and struggle to let go.

external locus of control. They often feel powerless in their lives, and feel that they simply have to accept their circumstances and the way that others treat them.

high capacity for denial. They often cannot or will not see problems that are right in front of them, and refuse to acknowledge the seriousness of a situation - the house will be burning down around them and they'll refuse to even admit that it's getting a little warm.

a history of interpersonal trauma or abuse. Codependency is often a learned behaviour - many people who fall into these patterns experienced codependency from their parents, or witnessed their parents' codependent relationship at a young age. Many have also experienced extreme emotional abuse, from their parents or a past partner.

a strong need for approval. Codependents need to be liked. They need approval. Doing things for others and letting others walk on them is the best way they know how to gain that.

boundary issues. They often cannot and do not set personal boundaries - they take a "Giving Tree" approach to helping others, endlessly giving even when it seriously hurts them. At the same time, they may overstep boundaries to try to fix others' issues, even when it is not their responsibility to get involved.

a lack of personal identity. The codependent relationship often becomes the focus of their whole life. They invest so much time and energy into it that without it, they wouldn't know what to do with themselves.

a tendency to be drawn to close relationships with substance addicts, alcoholics, people with personality disorders, or other codependents. Codependent relationships are usually not a one-off thing - they tend to be a recurring pattern in a person's life. In particular, people with untreated BPD often seek out relationships with codependent people, as they tend to prefer relationships with people who don't set personal boundaries and are willing to provide the extreme amounts of reassurance and caretaking that they need. People with BPD also tend to be codependent themselves, further complicating things.

an appearance of being "addicted to chaos". Codependent people often appear to gravitate toward drama, dysfunction and chaos. Having relationships with people who have healthy boundaries, autonomy and stable personal lives often holds little interest for them - they prefer relationships where they feel needed and depended upon.

Codependent people often have a "martyr" or "victim" complex - they often feel that it is their lot in life to suffer for others, that self-sacrifice is a key part of their identity, or that suffering is simply a part of loving someone. The idea that they should set expectations in a relationship, leave a relationship where they aren't treated well or have an identity of their own outside a relationship is something they struggle with. They often hop from codependent relationship to codependent relationship, becoming steadily more beaten down and burnt out in the process - breaking free from codependent tendencies can be a long process, and often requires professional help.

There is a lot of variety in what codependent relationships look like. Some examples of codependency in action would include:

A mother allows her chronically unemployed and irresponsible 38-year-old son to live with her, and does everything for him. She never confronts her son about the fact that he doesn't contribute financially or help out around the house, even though it's placing a great financial and personal strain on her. When other family members ask why her adult son isn't taking steps to get his life together, the mother becomes highly defensive, and may make up lies about the progress he's made, or insist that he's still young and that this is normal for his age.

A woman assumes the role of "caregiver" for her unstable and very mentally ill partner. She bends over backwards to keep her partner happy, and doesn't seem to notice or mind that her partner never does the same thing in return. Her partner constantly burns bridges with their own family or friends with their explosive anger, and she rushes in to make excuses and try to fix the situation. When friends raise concerns about the relationship, she brushes them off, insisting that she's happy and everything is fine.

The parent of an autistic teenager infantilizes their autistic child, and insists that the child needs much more care than they actually do. Being an "autism parent" is a huge part of their identity. The child has never been allowed to attend an overnight camp, go for sleepovers or stay at home with a babysitter, as the parent is highly fearful and believes that other people will not look after their child properly. The parent strongly resists all of their child's attempts to gain more independence, insisting that it's too dangerous or that the child cannot handle it.

The US version of the television show Shameless is almost entirely centered around codependent relationships. The main characters are all in codependent relationships with their alcoholic and dysfunctional father, Frank. Although the main characters are often angry with their father, they constantly allow him back into their lives no matter how horribly he treats them - at times, they give him money, provide him with alcohol, let him move back into their house, visit him in the hospital and cover him with a blanket when he passes out on the floor. The boundaries they set with him never last long, and they always resume having a relationship with him, even after he does things that most people would find unforgivable.

So with that said: is it healthy for someone to rely on you as a constant source of support?

It sort of depends.

Relationships are supposed to be a reliable source of support for both of the people in them. That's sort of what they're for. I worry sometimes that the internet is making us too transactional in our relationships, and too quick to think that someone is taking advantage of us if they constantly turn to us for support. It's normal to find comfort in your relationships, and to turn to your loved ones whenever you need someone to talk to. I talk to my partner, my parents and my closest friends every day - that often means mentioning things that we’re stressed or anxious about, or venting about problems in our lives. Sometimes people are going through something and need extra support for a while - that’s just a normal part of close relationships. 

With that said, there are times when someone leans on you too hard. If helping someone is starting to take a serious toll on your own life, that’s a problem. Every relationship needs boundaries; if your boundaries are consistently pushed or broken in the name of supporting that person, it may be time for a serious talk. Staying up until 4am to talk someone through a crisis is fine if this is a rare occurrence. Staying up until 4am to talk someone through a crisis multiple times per week, every single week, is an issue - that’s you sacrificing your own need for sleep, and something needs to change. Are you willing to set boundaries and balance your own needs with your friends’ needs? Is the other person willing to respect boundaries, or do they lash out with anger, guilt-trips, accusations of not caring for them or threats to harm themselves? 

If you and a friend are both willing to communicate and work on establishing boundaries, I think it’s fine for one person to need a lot of support. If the relationship is damaging for you and one or both of you just isn’t able or willing to discuss boundaries, that’s a sign there could be some codependence going on. 

A person experiencing separation anxiety and extreme stress when you aren’t around could be an issue - but again, it depends on how it’s being handled. Is your friend able to cope with this anxiety on their own, or are they constantly putting this anxiety on you? Are they blowing up your phone and getting anxious if you’re 10 minutes late answering a text? Do they ever try to guilt-trip you or blame you for triggering their separation anxiety? Do they accuse you of not caring about them if you try to take time for yourself? Are they jealous of your other relationships? Is their extreme stress taking a toll on your life and preventing you from having other relationships or having personal boundaries and space? If your friend is willing to work on boundaries and find healthy coping mechanisms for their stress, this might be something you can overcome. If your friend is burning you out and one or both of you is unable to set boundaries, this might be a very unhealthy situation. 

Not feeling the same stress and anxiety, however, is definitely not selfish. It’s not healthy for someone to feel that level of extreme stress and separation anxiety - it’s not your friend’s fault that they experience that, but it’s still very unhealthy. The fact that someone feels an unhealthy attachment to you does not mean that you should feel an unhealthy attachment right back. No one benefits from that. In any healthy relationship, both people have a life and identity outside the relationship. This is, fundamentally, the issue at the core of many different unhealthy relationships - whether they are codependent, enmeshed, or abusive.

 Being so attached to someone that you can’t handle them needing friends, hobbies, space and independence isn’t a compliment or something to aspire to - it’s just unhealthy.

Hope this answers your question! MM

[moon-light-jukebox]

Germs [Reid x Reader]

this gif isn’t mine

Summary: Reader is sure the resident BAU genius doesn’t like her, but she’s not sure why. But even if he did like her, he’s a germaphobe, so he wouldn’t be comfortable with the things she wants to do to him...would he?

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Rating: Mature 

Category: Fluff and Smut 

Content Warning: Brief mentions of torture and violence, usually criminal minds stuff, nothing explicit. Light choking, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, language (maybe?) 

A/n: I have come out of fan fiction writing retirement for this one. Let me know what y’all think!  masterlist

y/n - your name

y/l/n - your last name

italicized text is Reader’s sassy inner thoughts

---

I’m not sure if I believe in hell, but if there is a hell, I’m sure it feels exactly like Louisiana in July. Every time I walked outside I felt like I was walking into soup. Gross. I couldn’t help but feel guilty over my sigh of relief when I walked back into the local precinct the team was currently working out of. Young women are dying, and I’m worried about a little bit of heat.

But, fuck, it was hot.

Speaking of heat, I thought as I threw open the door to the conference room only to run smack into the hottest thing I’d ever encountered.

“Shit,” I exclaimed before I thought better of it. “I’m so sorry.” I ran my eyes up, up, up, all the way up his body until I met his eyes; those beautiful honey brown eyes that threatened to have me acting like an idiot if I stared into them for too long.  

Dr. Spencer Reid’s cheeks were tinged pink, his posture stiff, his fingers clutching the file he was carrying for dear life. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” he sounded uncomfortable, which made my stomach drop. “My fault.” With that, he quickly maneuvered around me and headed off to complete whatever genius task he had to complete.

My eyes followed him until he was out of sight before I mentally shook myself. ‘C’mon, this is pointless,’ I thought. ‘He doesn’t even like you.’ Which I really thought was true, the good doctor went out of his way to avoid me whenever possible. ‘Plus, he’s a germaphobe.’ This thought was confirmed true. He didn’t shake people’s hands, the only people I’d seen him touch during my time at the BAU were members of the team that he’d known for years, and some of those even seemed reluctant.

Admittedly, I didn’t know a lot about germaphobia; since I couldn’t ask the only genius I knew, I did the next logical thing. I googled it. Every person I’d read about seemed to experience germaphobia differently. Some people could have sex, but others were grossed out by the very idea. Knowing my luck, Spencer Reid and his beautiful hands, and his soulful eyes, and his cheekbones that could cut glass was in the repulsed by sex category. Which is fine! Right, it is fine to not be interested in sex; the only problem was I was very interested in every part of him.  

Maybe he thinks I’m gross. Maybe I stink? Maybe he’s just repulsed by my very presence. Regardless, I couldn’t see Spencer Reid ever shoving me against a wall and fucking me senseless.

I sighed, making my way over to the conference table, pulling out a chair before I flopped into it. I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones. We had been in Louisiana for almost a week now and we were still no closer to finding our unsub. He was a white man, he worked in a lower-paying job, and he hated women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow it down much.

The unsub was targeting women in clubs and bars, following them outside before he bashed them on the back of the head. After that, he threw the girls over his shoulder and took them to his car; he moved them to a secondary location before he tortured them. The first two victims had survived. They were traumatized, but they were fighters; they both said the same things, ‘he kept my eyes covered the entire time,’ “I never saw his face,’ ‘I did whatever he told me to do.’

We thought the killing of the third victim had been an accident, but that accident had excited our guy enough that he changed his ritual; the killing was crucial now. We had 4 bodies, 2 live victims that couldn’t tell us anything, and no leads.

Sighing, I leaned forward, bringing the heels of my hands to my eyes. I hated feeling helpless. The answer to who this fucker was is in this evidence somewhere and I will find it. If it’s the last thing I do.

The doors swung open again, pulling me from my thoughts. Hotch lead the parade of people, followed by Morgan, JJ, and Dr. Reid. Our unit chef looked gravely serious…not that that necessarily meant anything, in the 6 months I’d been with the behavioral analysis unit I hadn’t seen him have any other expression.

Morgan pulled out his phone, hitting what I suspected was speed dial number 1. “Hey baby girl,” he said, without his usual swagger; even he was tired. “You’re on speaker. You’ve got me, Hotch, JJ, Reid, and Y/l/n.”

“And I have the always wonderful Emily Prentiss, and the dashing David Rossi on the line, effectively putting my favorite people together again, as they should be,” Garcia quipped. I don’t think she meant to include me in her list of ‘favorite people,’ but it made me smile anyway. “Okay, crime fighters, what’s the play?”

“We’re still no closer to finding the unsub,” Hotch began. “He’s highly organized, methodical, and paranoid; but he hasn’t killed in 3 days, this is a break from his escalation pattern. He’s going to strike soon.” Hotch leaned over resting his palms on the shiny fake wood of the conference table. “Our best chance is to send an agent out there as bait.” There was a general murmur of agreement before he continued on. “Garcia, we need you to find all of the night clubs, bars, and whatever else you can think of in the updated comfort zone.”

The sound of keys clicking made its way through the speaker. “Assuming we’re excluding the places he’s already hit, that leaves us with 3 possibilities.”

“So far he hasn’t struck a place twice,” Prentiss chimed in. “Do we think he’s going to hold to that pattern?”

Reid moved over to the board where the map of the county was displayed. “I think so. This guy is too careful to risk going to a place where he’s been before. The chance of him being recognized is too great, especially when everyone is on high alert.” He gestured to the area he had circled on the map. “His pattern seems to be focusing in on this center point right here,” he said, placing a pin in the map. “This area means something. Garcia, what is the closest club or bar to the intersection of Washington Avenue and Harrison Street?”

“That would beeeeee…The Blue Fox.”

“That’s where he’ll be,” Dr. Reid said confidently, his eyes moving to Hotch’s face.

The older man nodded. “It’s our best lead so far, we have to run with it.”

“It’s Friday night,” Rossi pointed out. “We’ll have to act soon.”

Hotch nodded, seeming to be lost in thought. “We need to send agents in there tonight. We know the victims were all on dates or flirting with a man right before their abduction. He targets women that are happy with their companions then waits til he can separate them.”

“Who are you planning on sending in, Hotch?’ JJ questioned.

“Y/l/n is the youngest, she fits the build of the previous victims the best.” His heavy gaze rested on me. “What do you think?”

Like it was even a choice. “I’m in.”

Hotch nodded, accepting my answer. “Good. You’ll partner with Reid.”

“What?!” I squawked, much to my embarrassment. I cleared my throat before I continued. “But, Reid and I…I just thought Morgan would be the obvious choice.” Fuck, I’m just digging a bigger hole.

Morgan gave me an easy smile. “You’re just saying that because you wanna see my moves, little mama.”

Hotch cleared his throat, bringing our attention back. “Morgan is too intimidating; the unsub might not move in if he feels too threatened. You’ll go with Reid.” When he was met with silence he continued on, “alright, let’s get to work.”

-

And that is how I wound up in a club in Louisiana on a Friday night, in a tight black dress, with Spencer Reid beside me. After he walked into the club holding my hand. He doesn’t hold hands, I cringed internally at the thought. He must feel so uncomfortable.

He waved the bartender over, ordering a drink for me and a water for himself before turning to me. “I thought a drink would loosen you up a bit. You look nervous.”

I am nervous. “Right. Thanks.” I drummed my fingers on the bar, my gaze sweeping around the club for anyone who seemed out of place and especially creepy. Most lone men at clubs and bars were creepy, but we need especially creepy.

“Is that because you don’t think I can have your back?”

My head snapped back around. “What?”

Spencer paused to accept the drinks from the bartender, sliding him the money. “In the conference room. You seemed upset that Morgan wasn’t going to be your partner,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Is that because you think I wouldn’t have your back?”

Fuck. I blushed to the roots of my hair. “No, Spencer! God no! It’s not that, I know you’d have my back.” I took a sip of my drink before I said anything else. “It’s just that…you don’t seem to like me very much, and I know you have a thing about germs, and I thought maybe that’s why you didn’t like me.” I was babbling; I was absolutely babbling. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, that’s all. Morgan has never seemed uncomfortable around me, so…” I trailed off lamely.

The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement. “So, you didn’t want to partner with me on this because you didn’t want me to be uncomfortable?”

I nodded, fidgeting with the straw in my drink.

Spencer moved closer to me, his right hand coming to rest on the small of my back. He seemed as calm as he could be, meanwhile I suddenly had trouble breathing.

It’s for the case. He has to do this for the case. Calm down.

"What do my issues with germs have to do with this?" he wondered, leaning closer to me. I could feel his breath on my neck; my skin broke out in goosebumps.

Double fuck. “Well, we’re supposed to be…together. And you think I’m gross. What if you have to kiss me?” TRIPLE FUCK. “Not that we’d have to kiss,” I tried to backpedal. “But we might, you never know. And I just didn’t…I don’t want you to dislike me more than you do.”

The teasing smile slipped from his face, the fingers on my lower back flexing slightly. He regarded me with a tilt of his head. "You're serious?" At my shaky nod, he continued. "Y/n, I don't think you're gross."

“You don’t?” I squeaked.

He lifted his hand from my back then, sliding it up to my shoulder, his free hand moving from the bar to rest on my hip. Spencer brushed my hair back before he leaned forward. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I felt his lips touch the tender skin of my neck. My eyes fluttered shut, unable to suppress a gasp at the contact. Spencer Reid’s beautiful lips slid down to the place where my neck and shoulder met, then I felt his teeth nip the skin before he placed another kiss there. He worked his way back up towards my ear, the hand on my hip moving slightly so he was almost grabbing my ass. “I don’t think you’re gross,” he breathed, causing me to shudder. I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Germs don’t bother me in that way, especially around people I know. I wouldn’t have a problem kissing you, baby.”

I was going to need new panties after this. Spencer Reid, awkward, sweet, Dr. Spencer Reid just called me Baby.

“…Oh.” Really, y/n. Oh; you went with oh?

The good doctor pulled back, his face close enough to mine that I could see that he had freckles under his eyes and that those beautiful eyes got more golden towards the center. "Oh."

-

Michael Watkins was the name of our unsub. He was a short white man with a receding hairline and a bad temper. His last relationship had ended 3 months before the first attack; Spencer was right to pick this bar. Shortly after he tried to make my pussy combust with his neck kisses, Reid suggested I walk to the bathroom, assuring me he’d be watching if anyone followed.

Watkins’ hand was in my hair, dragging me outside before I made it to the ladies’ room. I felt a jolt of fear as I struggled to escape, strands of hair being ripped from my head. I shouldn’t have worried, because no sooner had the outside door opened than I heard the velvety voice of Derek Morgan. “FBI! Put your hands where we can see them.”

He attempted to run. Why would anyone try to run from Derek Morgan?  

After the medics confirmed I was okay, I was sent back to the hotel while the rest of the team went with the local police to book Watkins and try to get a full confession.

“Good work,” Hotch said, his hand clapping down on my shoulder.

The highest praise I’ll ever need.

I hopped into the shower right when I got back to my room, not wanting Watkins’ touch on me for a moment longer.

Spencer’s touch, however,…That was a touch I wouldn’t mind having on me. But he’d barely looked at me once he made it outside. I knew he was being affectionate in there because of the case, we were playing a role. I knew that. I still couldn’t stop the twinge of hurt I felt.

But he doesn’t think I’m gross. That had to count for something.

I had just got done blow drying my hair enough so that it wouldn’t look too crazy when I woke up when there was a knock on my door. Figuring it was Emily, I didn't consider the fact that I was in my pajamas, and my face was scrubbed free of makeup.  

It wasn’t Emily. Spencer Reid stood on the other side of my door, his eyes running down my body before he met my bewildered stare again. “You look comfy,” he commented with that damn little smile on his lips again.

“Oh. Yeah. I took a shower.” Way to go, y/n, you’re really killing it tonight.

“I see that,” he said, his cheeks going a little bit pink. “Can I come in? I thought we should talk.” Was he nervous? Why would he be nervous?

I ushered him in, shutting the door behind him. He sat on the bottom edge of my bed; his body angled towards the headboard. I briefly debated about where to sit before I joined him. Don’t make it weird, y/n.

He cleared his throat before he began. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight. I just wanted to make sure we got the guy.”

Right. “Oh, it’s okay, Spencer. I get it. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” I picked at the frayed edge of my sleep shorts, my eyes dropping so he didn’t see anything on my face that betrayed how I was feeling; you can’t be too careful around profilers.

His hand reached out to cover my own fidgeting hands, one of his hands covering both of mine. His hands were so big. His fingers were so long, the veins in his hands were so pronounced. I bet those fingers would feel really – FOCUS.

“I’m also sorry you thought I didn’t like you.” His thumb had started to move slowly over the back of my hand. “I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. I just…” I brought my gaze back up to meet his eyes. “I just get nervous sometimes.”

“You didn’t seem nervous in the club.”

“No,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t nervous then because it was my job. I wasn’t worried about misreading a signal…doing the wrong thing…I’m not the best with social cues.” I had noticed that about him before. “But I am a really good profiler.” And he’s humble too, apparently.

“I know that you couldn’t fake your reaction to me in the club. Your breathing became quicker, I felt your pulse jump under my lips when they were on your neck. I saw how blown your pupils got." He shifted closer to me then, bringing his other hand up to push my hair behind my shoulder like he did earlier in the night. "Just like they are now."

He leaned closer to me, his voice was lower, and it made my stomach flutter. "You're clenching your thighs together, Y/n. Your shirt may be baggy, but I can see how hard your nipples are too." His tongue ran out to wet his lips. "If I'm wrong, just tell me now. If I've misread this, I will leave right now, and we can pretend this never happened." Spencer brought both his hands up to cradle my face; despite how wet my panties were, how tight my nipples are, how badly I wanted him to touch me, this gesture made me feel special. He was holding me like he actually cared about me like I was precious. "But, if I'm not wrong, and you want this too, Y/n, tell me. Tell me you want this too and I won't stop touching you until you scream my name."

I let out a soft whimper then. Like it’s a choice. “I want this,” I leaned into his touch. “Please, Spencer.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, what, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than his lips were on mine. His lips were softer than I imagined, they were firm and almost…questioning. When I nipped at his bottom lip, something seemed to break free inside of him. His lips slanted over mine with a hunger I had never felt. His tongue ran over my bottom lip before I opened for him. Spencer’s tongue moved into my mouth while his hands moved; one hand moved back to grip my hair at the base of my skull, tugging firmly, the other moved down to my neck, not applying any pressure, just resting it there in a gesture that felt possessive.

The need for oxygen broke us apart, his lips moving across my cheek to my jaw, then down to my neck. “How could you think I didn’t like you?” he mumbled into my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me. None.”

I threw my head back when he sucked on my pulse point, a moan ripping from my throat. “W-what…what do I do?”

Pulling back from me, he gripped the bottom of my shirt, looking at me for consent before he pulled it over my head. His eyes were firmly on my chest, his lips parted, his breathing heavy. He pushed me down slowly on the bed; I was on my back and he was hovering over me. I felt his mouth place hot, wet, kisses from my collarbone down towards my breasts. His right hand landed on my breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over my nipple while his lips moved closer and closer to my left. I tangled my hands in his hair, urging him forward.

“You want to know what you do to me?” he raised his head slightly, making sure my eyes were on him when he flicked his tongue over my nipple, causing me to gasp. “What do you do to me in your little skirts, with your little smiles, and your little laughs?” He gave my nipple a sharp pinch. “You’re all I fucking think about, y/n.” With a growl, he finally took my nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. He switched to the other breast while he adjusted himself over me, bringing his pelvis down to rest at the seam of my body between my thighs. I shifted restlessly under him, trying to grind my pussy against him. He was so fucking hard.

With a groan, he lifted his head and started kissing his way towards the middle of my chest, moving down to the curve of my stomach. “Do you know how many times I came back to my hotel room after spending all day with you and was so hard I had to cum before I could think of anything else?” he peppered kisses down my body as he spoke.

My eyes shot open at this confession that he seemed to think was no big deal. “What?” I couldn’t believe this. “You…you touched yourself and thought of…”

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and panties, taking my raised hips as an invitation to remove both from my body. "You. I thought of you." He threw my clothes on the floor, pulling my legs open. His eyes moved over all of me, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. “I thought about kissing you. About making you squirm for me.” He ran his fingers up and down my thighs, his mouth running slowly over my inner thighs. Spencer’s hands hooked around my upper thighs, moving me to where he wanted me. “But, most of all, I thought about this pretty pussy.” He placed a kiss on my clit, chuckling at the wanton moan that came from me and how my fingers tangled in his soft brown curls. “I thought about all the different ways I could make this pretty pussy cum all over me.” With that, he ran his tongue up my slit before flicking it over my clit.

Dr. Spencer Reid was good at everything, so of course, he was good at this too. His mouth moved over me, watching my reaction to see what I liked best. His tongue moved in circles around my clit before slipping down to my opening. His tongue plunged inside me, fucking me, while his thumb came over to rub my clit.

“Spence- fuck- Spencer, please.” My hips tried to shift restlessly, but his arms were iron bars holding me still. He slowly moved his left forearm to rest across my hips, bringing his right hand down to my throbbing pussy. He pulled his mouth away from me, much to my dismay. He pushed one finger, then another into me. My head thrashed wildly, and my thighs started to shake. “Spencer!”

He just smirked and curled his fingers, hitting the spot inside me that made everything in my body pulse. “What, baby?”

My breaths were coming in gasps, my voice was a needy whimper. “Make me cum, Spencer. Please, please make me cum.”

He needed no other encouragement. His fingers continued their steady thrust in and out of me while his mouth covered my clit again. He alternated between flicking my clit with his tongue, then circling it before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly.

“Spencer.” I felt my orgasm rising. “Spencer don’t- don’t stop. I’m gonna cum, please make me cum.”

He kept his pace steady, sucking on my clit, moaning at my words. His eyes had been closed, but at that moment they opened and met mine. Then I felt his teeth ghost over my clit, I saw the want in his eyes. That was my undoing. My back arched, my mouth hung open in a silent scream. I heard myself say his name over and over again. Spencer pushed his fingers inside me, massaging me through the most powerful orgasm I had ever had. With one final kiss on my oversensitive clit, he withdrew his fingers, putting them into his mouth to suck my orgasm off of them.

He kissed back up my body, and I tried to respond, but I was still so shattered. I had never felt anything so powerful before. He cupped my face in one hand and kissed me slowly. I returned the kiss, moving my hands to the buttons of his shirt.

Spencer broke the kiss, pulling back to look at me again. “Hang on, baby.” His hand came up to still my own. “We can take a second. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

This beautiful man smiled at me then. I felt my heart flutter when he leaned down to pepper soft kisses along my jaw, his thumb coming up to wipe a tear that fell from the corner of my eye that I hadn’t even noticed.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. He shifted to lay beside me, whispering reassurances to me while I came back down. This was just one of the ways that Spencer was so different from every other man. I didn't feel rushed, or pressured. I could feel how hard he still was, I could feel the tension in his body, but he simply kissed me while he cupped my jaw.

He made me feel…cherished.

I moved my hands to tangle in his hair again, deepening our kiss. He didn’t move my hands away when I started to work on the buttons of his shirt. The fire that I thought had been calmed by my orgasm had come roaring back. Spencer moved his hands to his belt while I finished with his shirt. His shirt came off, tossed in the same direction as my clothes. I pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, watching his cock spring free.

Everything about him was painfully beautiful. His angular cheekbones, the jaw that looked like it was carved from granite, even the toned muscles of his body. He had a small trail of hair that went down from his belly button to his groin. His cock laid against his stomach, the head glistening with precum.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, kneeling beside him, running my eyes over his body.

His soft hand came to grab mine, pulling it to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand, smiling softly at me.

I moved to straddle him, lower on his thighs. I took him in my hand, moving up and down, twisting my wrist as I neared the tip, swiping my thumb over his head.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Y/n, as much as I want you to do…whatever the fuck you want with me, I’m so close. I feel like I’m going to explode.” I bit into my bottom lip, unable to totally stop the smile spreading over my face. “Please, I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He moved his hands to my hips, urging my body forward.

I raised up on my knees, taking him in my hand again, lining him up with my entrance. The tendons in his neck were strained, his fingers gripped my hips so hard I knew I was going to have bruises tomorrow. As I slowly started to sink down on his cock, Spencer let out the sexiest groan I had ever heard. His eyes were fixed where our bodies were joined, watching his dick slid deeper inside of me.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “You’re doing so good. Just a little bit more.”

He was so long, he wasn't overly thick, but just thick enough to cause a pleasurable stretching when he breached me that was almost painful. I gasped out a sound that might have been his name when he bottomed out inside me. I slowly circled my hips, adjusting to him. Spencer’s nails dug into my hips as he forced himself to stay still.

“Please move, y/n. Please. You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned as my walls fluttered around him. “Do you like it when I talk to you? Does that make your pretty pussy wetter?” He smirked at my whimper as I tightened around him.

I began at a slower pace, trying to tease him. Spencer quickly lost patience with that; he thrust his hips upwards, meeting my movements, his hands pushing me down onto him. I leaned forward, bracing on hand on his shoulder, the other on the bed. He pounded into me while I tried to match his pace. Spencer’s hand moved from my hip up to wrap around my throat. I nodded, forcing my eyes to stay open as he moved inside me.

His fingers squeezed slightly, pulling my face closer to his. Our lips met in a sloppy kiss. My thighs burned from matching his movements. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” His grip on my neck tightened ever so slightly, which only heightened my arousal. “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

He flipped us over quickly, never pulling completely out of me. Spencer moved to push my legs further apart, the change in angle allowing him to fill me deeper than I thought possible. His hair was sticking to his brow, his cheeks were flushed, his breathing erratic. He was the most fucking beautiful thing I had ever seen.

One hand held my leg, the other went down to my pussy, his thumb moving over my clit at a rapid pace. “Tell me what you need, Pretty Girl. Tell me how to make this pretty pussy cum all over me.”

I whined at his words. “Spencer, I-“ my voice broke off. I was so fucking close. "I need you." He seemed to understand my broken plea. He brought his body down, his chest flush against mine. He rocked into me at such a fast and hard pace. His hand still in between us rubbing circles around my clit.  

I felt his lips ghost over my ear. “I want to fucking hear you, y/n.” His speed increased, his thrust getting choppier. He was close. “I want this whole fucking town to hear what you sound like when I make you cum. When you cream all over my dick, I want you to scream my name.” With that, he moved his mouth down my neck. He bit the same tender area he had kissed in the club, where my neck met my shoulder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, Spencer!" I felt myself begin to splinter apart. “Please make me cum, fuck please.” My babbling finally broke as my orgasm tore through me. I couldn’t hear his deep groan when I came, my scream was too loud. I felt the vibration against my neck. It was only as I started to float down that I realized my nails were dug into his back. With a few last thrust and my name on his lips, I felt Spencer pulse, cumming inside me.

We lay there for a few minutes, just breathing before he rolled off of me. I felt overwhelmed, so I was relieved when he tugged me over to him. He wrapped his arm around me when I laid my head on his chest. I felt his lips on my forehead. “It’s very important for women to urinate after sexual intercourse to avoid UTIs, but you have another minute or so before that becomes more urgent.”

I couldn’t control my laugh at his comment. "Thanks, Doc." I kissed his chest. "Only you could make me cum so hard I almost blackout, then go back to being…you." I slowly untangled myself from him, going to the bathroom to handle business. When I returned, I found Spencer where I left him, his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, one hand resting behind his head, the other over his heart. He looked so lost in that moment.

“Spencer?” I asked, crawling on to the bed. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t pretend that something wasn’t bothering him. “When you said that I just go back to being me…Do you not like that?”

My heart broke a tiny bit at the question. “Spencer, no! I love that! I love your little facts and statistics!” How did he not know that? “The best part of my day is listening to you talk. Just being with you is wonderful.” I cupped his face, bringing his gaze to mine. “Sure, I like what we just did; but I liked you before that. I want both.” Fuck. “Assuming you want me,” I rambled quickly. “This doesn’t have to mean anything, I know that it doesn’t always-“

He cut me off by pressing his lips to mine in the sweetest kiss I had ever felt. It was filled with hope and promise and…Spencer.

“It means everything to me, Y/n.”

-

I didn’t see the rest of the team until the next morning when we all boarded the jet; I was so ready to go home. I personally didn’t think anything appeared that different. Spencer sat beside me on the couch, but that wasn’t weird…right? We were just co-workers, sitting beside each other super casually. Had we spent most of last night and a little bit of this morning screwing each other’s brains out? Certainly. But you couldn’t see that…right?

Morgan’s chuckle is what confirmed I was so wrong. “Hey, y/l/n,” he called, smiling so hard it looked like his face would split from his amusement. “You missed a spot.” He pointed towards his own neck.

There was a beat of silence before Hotch snorted. SSA Aaron Hotchner, the man who never found anything funny was laughing at me.

I felt myself turn tomato red, angling my body towards Spencer’s, burying my head against his shoulder, away from the rest of the team.

“I bet you’re glad pretty boy was your partner now, huh?”

I may have wanted to melt into the floor in embarrassment, but it was sort of worth it to see the blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

--

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 16) - Drowning

Summary: The reader’s night goes from bad to awful fast but thankfully Jensen shows up at the last second to stop things from getting any worse. But the guilt the reader feels over trying to end things with Jensen to protect him starts to become too much...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,600ish

Warnings: language, being drunk, minor violence, scary situations, angst, fighting, fluff, offscreen death of minor character, anxiety, panic attack, minor injury

A/N: This chapter is a whirlwind! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

It was a close to an hour later and you were halfway through a bottle of bourbon, laying on the back porch of your mom’s house, staring at the rafters and debating finishing off the whole thing.

“Y/N?” you heard. Your skin crawled as you sat up, spotting your father at the other end of the wrap around. “Are you drunk?”

“This would be an appropriate time to tell you that yes, I am and I also have this,” you said, reaching behind your and picking up a hunting rifle. “I might be plastered but I think that’ll only improve my aim. I’ll be nice and shoot for your balls first.”

“You got so much wrong about me kid.”

You fired a shot near his feet and he held up his hands.

“Why don’t you go jump off a bridge or some shit,” you said.

“Y/N.”

You pulled the trigger as he took a step forward and he jumped when it hit the window nearby. You pulled again but it just clicked as he walked closer. 

“Your new momma never taught you that kind of rifle only has two shots, did she,” he said. You tried to stand but got way too dizzy and fell down. 

“Well I can still tear you apart with my teeth,” you said. 

“You’re drunk and judging by your face, very upset. What happened to that boy you were with? I didn’t see him when I looked around.”

“Touch me and that boy will rip your head off.”

“This doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” he said, stepping far too close for your liking. You swung the rifle at him but he caught it and kicked the bottle away before you could get at it. “All grown up. Probably enjoy it now.”

You crawled back as far as you could, eyes darting behind him when you saw movement. You barely caught the brown hair and green eyes before your father was face first on the porch. You tried to stand but he yanked on your ankle and pulled you down hard. It took a long time to peel open your eyes again, your father now at Jensen’s feet. Jensen pushed down on his back while he talked on the phone to someone and it didn’t take long to hear sirens in the distance.

“For the record,” said Jensen as he walked over to you and crouched down, his belt around your father’s wrists, “I didn’t believe you for a second. Oh and you’re a dumbass but you’re my dumbass. Forever. Got it?”

“I couldn’t…” you trailed off. He nodded and took off his flannel, wrapping it over your shoulders. “I knew he would do something and I couldn’t have him near the kids or know they exist. I couldn’t-”

“I know, honey,” he said. “But don’t you dare ever do anything like that again.”

You put your head down sniffled, dizzy still as he rubbed your back before going back to watching your dad.

It took an hour or so before you could go home and you were sober enough to stand on your own. 

“Can I ask why you made the executive decision that you did?” asked Jensen, holding your arm loosely as you got into his car to head back.

“Because I’m stupid,” you said dryly from the passenger seat as he turned on his SUV.

“I mean more so why didn’t you come to me if you were scared? Why make up a lie?”

“You did let me go. You must have believed me at least for a few seconds,” you said.

“No, I actually didn’t.”

“You let me go.”

He was quiet until you got close to the brewery, Jensen pulling off onto the plot of land he owned next to it. You leaned your head against the cold window and he turned off the engine.

“This whole, tired, don’t talk to me attitude right now? Been there. Lived it. I know it’s bullshit.”

“You let me leave so you did believe me so-” you said, Jensen pressing a finger to your lips. 

“I am certain of very few things and you are one of them. I let you go so I could figure out what scared you so badly you’d lie, to me. There’s only one thing I can think of so before you even had a foot out of that house, I was calling people and I got put on with Detective Finn who worked your case as a kid and I find out that dick for brains sack of shit just moved practically down the street from us. It does not take a genius to put the pieces together.”

“Fine! I did it in some stupid attempt to protect you,” you said. You glared at him and he shook his head. “What?”

“I’m not gonna get mad at you.” You put your head back on the window and stared out to the dark trees, sniffling some. “Why do you want me to be angry with you?”

“Uh because I didn’t forget to turn on the washing machine or leave on a light. I lied. I lied so big that-”

“You lied to protect your family from a monster. Do I wish you had told me? Yes. But I fuck up so much and you’ve never once been angry with me for making a mistake and I’ll never be angry with you for making one either. I know you want me to be angry with you, feel like you should be punished for what you imagine is hurting me. But you didn’t hurt me, Y/N. You didn’t and I know you get that because so many times you’ve been on the other side of this and I know you’ve never once thought, oh yeah Jensen’s a piece of shit, let him really have it. No. Just no. So I’m not getting mad at you and I don’t know what to fucking say to make you feel better like you always do me and I’m so sorry he got so close to hurting you again. But I’m really good at fighting monsters in this family. So please next time, I don’t care if you’re scared of the bug on the wall or you think someone’s outside the house or what it is. If you’re scared, tell me and I’ll do my best to make it go away, I promise.”

“What do you do when you want to hate yourself for being an idiot?” you asked quietly. You heard him shift in his seat and you shut your eyes, the sound of a door opening and then another. Strong arms wrapped around you and you buried your face in his chest.

“I try to treat myself as kindly as she does. She would never hate me and she hates when I’m in pain. I see it all over her face. So I try to cut myself some slack and ask myself if she would hate me and when I realize no, I’m forced to forgive myself and it normally takes a few hours but it works pretty good. A lot of hugs and cuddling don’t hurt either.”

“Thank you for stopping him.”

“Don’t.”

“Thank you. I owe you so, so much.”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing. We got each other’s backs and that’s all there is to it. I’m just sad I missed you trying to shoot his dick off.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

“Find my iPhone. Also I figured that was a good place to check,” he said. “I would have been here sooner if Jared didn’t drive like a tortoise over to the house to watch the kids.”

“I’m sorry I scared you...and you had to do that tonight.”

“Oh punching your father was a personal highlight for me. Trust me,” he said. He stroked your cheek and you turned into the touch, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re safe.”

“He’s going to get out on bail and-”

“And we have a very good lawyer. Oh, and I know the mayor so fuck his ass, he’s not getting bail.”

You buried your face once again and he put a finger under your chin, lifting it up.

“You’re still scared.”

“He’s gonna get arrested for what, trespassing? Attempted assault? I was drunk and shot at him. He can spin it. He can spin it and be out on the street like that.”

“I’m going to ask the lawyer to do something else, something that maybe can take care of that problem.”

“What?” 

“Once a piece of shit, always a piece of shit. He’s been gone for fifteen years. I have this bad feeling you weren’t the only one. Or even before that.”

“Or maybe he just hates me.”

“You don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna take care of it.”

“Jensen, I know you don’t have to worry about the money but it might still not be enough.”

“It’s enough,” he said. “Or else next time I’ll be the one with the rifle.”

“You would kill him?”

“Honestly? Yeah if it came to it. I wish people like him died in car crashes, not innocent ones. We have every right to protect ourselves and our family and I’m not letting him touch the kids or you ever.”

“I should probably say that’s bad but I don’t disagree.”

“Money works a lot. A real lot. Maybe he did something super bad and he can rot in prison forever.”

“Maybe,” you said, spotting a cruiser pull up nearby. 

“Stay here, sweetie,” he said. He walked over while the officer got out. He spoke to Jensen for a moment, Jensen’s face a bit blank when he turned around. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Your dad had a heart attack in the backseat,” said Jensen quietly. You cocked your head and he shook his. “Your father. In the police cruiser that was taking him for booking. He was just pronounced.”

“He died?”

“He was really overweight and didn’t look to be in the best health. He probably got his heart rate up too high and...the officer said he’d escort us home, stay outside the house for the night, calm our nerves.”

“He’s really dead?” you asked. You looked over at the officer and he came over, giving you a quick smile. “He really died?”

“Yes mam.”

“What...happens now?” you asked.

“We’ll file the report but you don’t necessarily need to press charges anymore. You’re next of kin as far as we’re aware so the body…” he trailed off when he looked at you. “We can talk about this with your lawyer.”

“Thanks,” said Jensen. “We’ll be on the road in a minute.” 

The officer climbed back in his cruiser, Jensen leaning against the doorframe. He tucked your hair behind your ear, letting out a deep breath.

“Y/N,” he said. He stroked your cheek, your head turning up. “What is it, honey?”

“I don’t feel bad at all. I’m actually happy. That kinda is freaking me out a little. You shouldn’t be happy someone died.”

“Most people you’re right, you shouldn’t. But there are exceptions. He tormented you. He harassed you. He came after our family. I’m gonna sleep just fine tonight knowing he’s never coming back in our lives.”

“Were you scared of him?” He ducked his head down and you took hold of his hand. “Jensen.”

“Put it this way, I’d protect my family by any means necessary. What scares me was what if I was five minutes later tonight. Ten minutes. My job is to protect you and especially from monsters like that.”

“I’m a big girl Jensen. You don’t have to protect me from anything.”

“Yes I do, just like if it were me in your shoes I know you’d have done the same exact thing. We protect each other. It’s not because I’m the guy or I’m stronger. You’re my family and that’s what we do.”

“Thank you for protecting me and forgiving me for being stupid earlier,” you said. He smiled and nodded.

“You’re my dumbass and I’m yours,” he said. “Want to go home now?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

“He’s really gonna spend the night?” you asked half an hour later in bed, Jensen shutting the door after himself. “He knows there’s a cop outside, right?”

“What can I say, Jared...he thinks of you like a little sister,” he said. “I can’t blame him for being protective.”

“I’ll be right back,” you said. You climbed out of bed and went downstairs, the light dim aside from where Jared was reading on the couch, a blanket over his legs. He looked over the top of the book and set it down, sitting up.

“Everything alright?” he asked. You smiled and took a seat on the edge of the couch, pulling him into a hug. 

“Thanks for staying,” you said, a pair of large arms wrapped around your back. 

“Of course.”

“You do know there’s nobody to bother us now, right?”

“I know. Some peace of mind never hurt anybody though,” he said. “Go on back to your fiance. You guys had a rough night.”

“Yeah,” you said, closing your eyes. “Thanks.”

He kissed your temple and you returned to your room, Jensen pulling you under the covers. You let out a deep breath, turning into his side. 

“Here,” he said. He started to take off his bracelet but you shook your head.

“It’s yours, Jensen. I feel safe, I promise.”

“You’re tense still, honey.”

“Still working on that not being so angry at myself thing,” you said. He smiled and kissed you quickly, laying an arm over your waist. “I know what you said but I still want you to be pissed at me for lying.”

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“But-”

“You didn’t hurt me, Y/N and you know what? Sometimes, you’re gonna hurt me and I’m gonna hurt you. We’ll have bad days and get annoyed with one another. I’ll leave dishes in the sink and make a mess of the closet. You’ll chew with your mouth open and never fill up your car with gas until it’s too low. We’re not perfect. But even if we do hurt each other, we forgive each other because that’s what you do. We’re not always gonna like each other and what we do but we’ll always love each other. I don’t want to be mad at you. I want you to feel safe and know that I understand why you did what you did. I do. Please try to let it go, for me.”

“I am trying,” you said quietly. You shut your eyes and turned away, his arm over you pulling you back against his chest. “You’re normal. I can’t just stop hating myself like that.”

“You think I’m normal?” he chuckled. “Me?”

“Did you ever have to punch Dee’s psycho father? Did you ever have to talk about protecting her? Did she ever put your family in danger? Did she ever-”

“Y/N.”

“Go away,” you said, pushing his arm off of you. You moved over farther on your side of the bed, tucking your covers under your chin. The bed shifted and you tried to move again but his arm pulled you straight back to his chest, fingers dipping under your ribcage and holding you in place. 

“I might not have had to have done those things for her but I would have. For the record, you didn’t put anyone in danger. That fucking asshole did. It is not your fault he was an evil and vile person. All you did was try to protect us because you were scared and I know, I know you didn’t tell me because you’re so scared of that man and I don’t blame you. He made my skin crawl and I interacted with him for all of five minutes. Get it out of your system however you need to but you are stuck with me forever. There is nothing you could do to make me want you gone so get used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” you breathed out. You pulled your sheets over your head, taking deep heaving breaths. “You have so much to worry about already. You shouldn’t have to…”

“Did you think I couldn’t handle the news?” he asked. “That your father was so close by?”

“I thought you’d hate me,” you whispered. He tugged down your sheets and you squeezed your eyes shut as he turned you around.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Now you’re angry.”

“Look at me.” You forced them open, meeting a soft face and sad eyes. “Why would I ever hate you?”

“My shit’s supposed to stay in the past. You don’t…” you said, Jensen furrowing his brow. “See, you’re mad.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Your shit stays in the past.”

“It means you’ve had the world’s worst fucking year and you’re in such a good place now and you need to focus on you and not have my shit come in and fuck that up.”

“Do you think I can’t take care of you?” he asked.

“No of course not.”

“It sounds like you’re saying that you think you can’t have problems cause I can’t handle it.”

“Well at least I got what I wanted with you pissed,” you said, glaring up at him, tears welling in your eyes. You tried to push away but he held his arm around you. “Jensen, let me up.” You pushed again and he glared right back. “Stop it. Let me out of bed.” He only glared and you tore your eyes away from his face. 

“Do you think I’m weak?”

“No,” you said, keeping your head low.

“Then why-”

“Because you need a fucking break. I dealt with this shit years and years ago. I understand needing a fucking break and people need to take care of you, help you. You’re a different man than the one I met way back in January. You’re so happy and healthy and you have a different outlook on life again and that’s incredible. I’m so proud of you for that. But you’re just, just out of the woods and I’m not gonna be the one that sends you back in because of my fucking problems.”

“They’re our fucking problems,” he said. “Our problems. There’s no your problems or my problems anymore. It’s us together. Why do you think I’d hate you?”

“Jensen,” you said, pushing on his chest. “Stop.”

“Why?”

“I said stop!”

“Tell me.”

“Because I’m scared,” you said. He let his hold go lax and you sat up, getting out of bed. You walked over to the balcony door and rested your forehead against the cool glass. The bed creaked and you felt his presence behind you. 

“You’re scared of me.” You scrunched up your face and nodded. “Why?”

“Because if you realized how fucked up I am, you wouldn’t come near me with a ten foot pole. I’m not supposed to cause you problems. I’m supposed to fix them, be there for you.”

“But I can’t be there for you. You assume I’m just a dick where it’s only me and my shit that we can work on right?” he said.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Relationships go both ways, Y/N. I don’t expect you to take care of me for the rest of my life. You are allowed to need help too.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t understand,” he said, grabbing your arm and spinning you around. He was frowning, his voice an octave higher if you didn’t know any better. “Do you honestly think I would have been angry at you if you told me about your father being in town? Do you?”

“I put the kids-”

“For the last time, you didn’t put anyone in danger,” he growled. “What is going on with you?”

“How many times do I have to say it, I’m not supposed to cause any problems!” you said.

“Yes you are! You, me, the kids. We’re all gonna have fucking problems sooner or later. Why do you think I’d hate you for telling me you had a problem, sweetheart?”

You fidgeted with the bottom of your shirt, looking past him.

“Something with your dad, isn’t it. Something got triggered in you after that phone call with the detective, didn’t it.”

“Call Ray. Tell him to come over,” you said quietly. He nodded and grabbed his phone, sending off a quick message before he was guiding you to sit on the bed.

“Honey,” he said when you pulled away from him. “Okay, no touching. Can I get you anything while we wait for Ray?”

“Probably should tell that cop that we’re expecting someone,” you said, rubbing your hands against your thighs. “Fuck, tell Ray it’s the help thing. He’ll understand.”

“Okay,” he said with a nod. You rubbed your legs harder and he stared at you. “Y/N.”

“I’m trying not to have a panic attack,” you grit out. “I haven’t had one since I was eight.”

Your head was turned and you felt his hands on your cheeks, Jensen forcing a smile. You stared for a long beat before you took a breath, his head nodding. 

“That feels better,” you said, your hands not rubbing so hard. You heard feet and the door open, glancing behind Jensen to catch Jared in the doorway. You could feel your heart rate pick up, Jared nodding.

“I get panic attacks too,” he said. You nodded and Jensen glanced over his shoulder. “I heard arguing.”

“Can you tell that cop outside Ray is coming by and to let him in?” said Jensen.

“Sure. Who’s Ray?” asked Jared.

“Her mom’s old boyfriend and foster dad. He was her therapist when she was little. Something’s not right,” said Jensen.

“I’ll send him up as soon as he gets here.”

You felt calmer by the time Ray was walking in fifteen minutes later in sweats and not much more. 

“Hey kiddo,” said Ray, giving you a quick hug before he squatted down in front of you. “Doing okay?”

You shook your head and shut your eyes, Jensen holding an arm around you. He explained what happened, Ray staying quiet. You eventually opened your eyes to stare at the floor, Ray standing and pulling over the bench from the end of the bed to sit on. 

“Y/N do you want Jensen to stay?” he asked. You nodded and he hummed. “Y/N.”

“Yes,” you said dryly. “Can I have some water?”

Jensen got up and retrieved a glass from the bathroom, the pair of them watching you chug half of it down before you sat it on the nightstand.

“Y/N, does Jensen know what triggered you?” he asked.

“Not specifically. Asking for help he figured out but not the reason,” you said, looking away. 

“Well on the bright side, you didn’t have a panic attack, you worked through it, you trusted Jensen to help you through it even if he didn’t know why and some of your coping skills helped you out quite a bit. But this is something Jensen needs to know. You’ll need help in a relationship and I know this is the big one but he needs to know so this never happens again,” said Ray. 

“What if he thinks I overreacted?” you said.

“I won’t, trust me,” said Jensen. “Secret’s safe with me.”

“Go on, Y/N,” said Ray. You took a deep breath and Jensen held your hand, stroking his thumb over the back.

“So you kinda figured out that me having a problem was the trigger and that I didn’t ask for your help earlier and kinda assumed a bad reaction if I did.”

“Yup and that’s all okay,” he said softly. 

“It wasn’t because of you that I assumed you’d have a bad reaction. It was something that happened to me that sort of...default my head to react and anticipate things in a certain way in that particular situation.”

“So if you have a problem and ask for help, you assume the person you’re asking for help from will not take it in a good way?” he asked.

“Yeah, basically. If it’s a really big problem and if I anticipate that the problem would upset the person I’m asking then my head assumes this bad thing will happen. In that case, it assumes the much better option is to not reveal the problem at all and handle it myself because then the bad thing won’t happen,” you said.

“The bad thing. It’s bad isn’t it,” he said. “Really bad.”

“Y/N, remember you can share without the graphics involved,” said Ray. You nodded and leaned your head back.

“When I was six I broke something of my dad’s. A mug. His favorite mug. I picked up the pieces but I knew it was his favorite so I didn’t throw it out. I asked him for help putting it back together,” you said. “The amount of rage he had over a broken mug...I never experienced such a horrible day in all eight years as that one.”

He didn’t say anything and you tucked your feet up, holding one up to him and showing the bottom. He stared at it and cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. It took him a moment but you saw when he noticed the small little scars. His eyes flickered back to yours and you nodded.

“He hurt me badly,” you said. “All day long.” He stared at you and you told him exactly the way the scars came to be, Jensen shuddering and closing his eyes. “It wasn’t a good day.”

“Fuck,” he said, standing up and rubbing his arm. “You were six?”

He shook his head and went to the balcony door, taking a deep breath.

“Jensen. You alright?” asked Ray.

“No,” he said, turning around, looking to you. “That many times?”

“One for every broken piece,” you said. He ran his hands over his face and shut his eyes. “The worst thing was just that it went on all day. It was long enough for me to interpret it as conditioning for a result of an event rather than just a bad memory from everything me and Ray worked out back in the day. It hasn’t been a trigger for me ever really but we knew it could be someday for a big life problem potentially. I’m guessing with it involving my dad, it kinda sent me into overdrive earlier.”

“Jensen,” said Ray, shooting you a quick glance. “Y/N’s okay. I’m actually quite impressed with her behavior. There was no hesitancy or waiver in her voice. I don’t feel as though this will likely be an issue ever again now that it’s out in the open and her father is gone.”

“You’re the closest thing to a father she’s ever had,” said Jensen, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know every horrible thing that’s happened to her and, and you just...all you did was throw him out of the country for fifteen years?”

“First off, the law was different back then and it was a lifetime ban. Second of all, buddy, violence isn’t always the answer to violence,” said Ray, getting to his feet.

“You should have adopted her.”

“She didn’t want me to.”

“You were the damn adult. She was the kid. Act like one,” said Jensen. “I mean fuck, you adopted two other kids only a few years later.”

“If I had adopted her you wouldn’t even know she fucking exists,” shot back Ray. “Her father still would have come back and this would have happened regardless.”

“You should have done what you needed to the second he popped up again when she was a teenager.”

“I did not strike you as a violent man but I do not like it.”

“She was almost assaulted by that man again tonight,” growled Jensen. “He tortured her and tormented her and he got barely any time at all for that. I would have-”

“Why’d you call the police then?” he asked. Jensen swallowed and Ray shrugged. “Why back at the farmhouse did you call the police? You could have killed him, called it self-defense and been done with it. Why?”

Jensen looked down and Ray sighed.

“The price for being a good person is making hard decisions, Jensen. Would I have loved to have rid the world of that son of a bitch the second I learned all about him? Oh you don’t know the half of it. I’m a trauma therapist, Jensen. Mostly for kids and teenagers. Do you know how much fucked up shit I’ve heard in my life? The world has so much ugliness in it. But it’s got good too and that’s why you called the police like you were supposed to and that’s why she loves you. She needs a good man, not a violent one. I’m not saying don’t think about protecting your family. But don’t act on it unless you don’t have a fucking choice, kid. Understand me?”

Jensen nodded and Ray cleared his throat.

“Say it.”

“Yes, sir,” said Jensen quietly.

“Ray, don’t get mad at him. He’s not used to this stuff,” you said. You stood and pulled Jensen back to the bed, Ray crossing his arms and nodding. “If I ever feel this happening again, what should I do?”

“You could work on reconditioning instead,” said Ray. “Work on saying I have a problem to Jensen and ask for help, even if there isn’t a problem. If Jensen responds positively or even neutrally and you two work at it maybe an hour or so a day for the next week or two, I don’t think you’ll ever have to be afraid of that trigger coming back. All of your triggers Y/N have involved your father. I know similarities can set you off but they’re small, manageable. You never have to worry about anyone hurting you ever again.”

“I know. I should have trusted my partner to have my back,” you said.

“I don’t blame you. I didn’t before and I definitely don’t now,” said Jensen. Ray smiled and pulled the bench back over to the bed. 

“Get some rest you two,” he said. 

“Ray?” you said after he gave you a hug. “Why didn’t you adopt me?”

“Honestly?” he asked. You nodded, Jensen preening his ears. “You reminded me so much of your mother and I was devastated when we lost her. I should have been the adult and done what was right but after seeing her in pain for years...I didn’t have it in me to take on a grieving teenager that would have been just as angry back at me. She already was so angry then, I would have put fuel on the flames. I didn’t have it in me to be strong anymore and that’s my mistake for not trying.”

“You can adopt adults,” said Jensen. You both looked at him and he smiled. “Adults can be adopted.”

“Not sure if…” trailed off Ray as you smiled at him. “Y/N, we’ve only just started talking again.”

“Maybe if that keeps going well...maybe things could...work out…” you said. “If you wanted.”

“Yeah, maybe we can do that,” he said with a smile. “It’s getting late. Put her to bed. Don’t be surprised if there’s a nightmare or two tonight.”

“Okay. Thank you,” said Jensen as Ray started to leave.

“Take care of her kid,” he said. Jensen nodded and you lay back in bed, the house growing quiet. 

“I’m so sorry,” said Jensen, his head lowering after a few moments. “I should have realized…”

“You did realize,” you said, sitting up. “Even when my head couldn’t come out and say I trust you and I know I’m acting a certain way because of what my dad put me through, you stayed calm and figured it out. You got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m sorry he hurt you. I got to pretend to be a cowboy and my dad read me stories when I was six. The worst thing I ever got was a few smacks but I know he regrets doing that,” he said. “Even then it was because I was acting out not…I just don’t understand why he would ever hurt you.”

“I stopped trying to understand him a long time ago,” you said, the door opening. You both turned, Arrow walking in with a pair of wet eyes. “You have a nightmare, sweetie?”

“I went…to the bathroom…” she said when you noticed her holding her wrist. Jensen hopped up and walked over, picking her up gently and setting her beside you. “I fell down off the step stool. It was wet.”

“Tell me what hurts,” he said.

“My hand,” she said. 

“Let daddy see,” you said. She moved her hand back and you both saw her wrist was swollen and bruised. Jensen swore under his breath and guided her hand back on it. “Okay, you hold it if it feels better that way, honey. Daddy, I think Arrow should go to urgent care.”

“Arrow, why don’t you go get your dolly and we’ll bring her with us. We might have to wait a minute,” he said. “Be careful okay? I’ll come get you in just a minute.”

“Mommy?” she asked, staring up at you. 

“Mommy’s really tired-” said Jensen when you stood up.

“Uncle Jared is staying over though, daddy. Go get your dolly and mommy and daddy will get dressed,” you said. She sniffled but climbed down okay, Jensen sighing when she left the room. “She wants me there and I want to be there. I’m going.”

“Alright but you’re going to try and get some sleep in the waiting room at least, please.”

“No promises.”

________

A/N: Read Part 17 here!

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Everybody Talks Too Much (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Mute!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence Summary: Whenever Cassandra gets angry, no one wants to deal with her. Well, no one but you, that is. Thankfully, the middle child appreciates your company... not that she'd ever admit it. Notes: Another self-indulgent fic with a selectively mute reader. This one's a lil different. Sections in italic are mostly indications that the reader is miming actions in order to communicate, though there are a few internal thoughts that are marked as such. Unlike the past two I've done, this takes place pre-relationship, so there's some mutual pining of sorts. I think that's the word.

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

Among the many servants of Castle Dimitrescu, there were a number of secret rules to be followed. Guidelines that were never written down, only spoken in hushed whispers, for specific (and dangerous) circumstances. Most could be divided into one of two categories: 1, how to reduce the chances of a Lady of the house killing someone. 2, how to make sure that if they kill someone, it will not be you. Of these rules, there was one that you knew best of all, despite never having been told it. Why? Because you have observed it time and time again. After all, the rule revolved around you. To put it plainly… If Cassandra Dimitrescu was in an awful mood, but had yet to draw blood, send in the mute.

Even now, as you rushed down a corridor, you did not know why this rule was in place. You simply knew that you had been summoned countless times by frantic maidens, to go serve their volatile mistress. Admittedly you did understand their eagerness to thrust the task upon someone else. Cassandra was often considered the deadliest of the Dimitrescu daughters, for she was the quickest to anger, the one with the deepest bloodlust, and took the longest to calm down. Personally, you disagreed, believing that it wasn’t terribly hard to know what she did and did not like. All it took was some observation. It was Daniela who scared you, seeing as she was unpredictable. She didn’t even need to be in a bad mood to want to kill you.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that you saw no danger in working with Cassandra. In fact, you saw a fair bit, such as now: Right as you round the corner, a shiny object hurls past your head, embedding itself into the wall. Had you been walking ever so slightly faster… Well, you preferred not to dwell on such things, especially not when the one who threw the thing was still nearby. Based on the howling laughter and swarm of insects that moves around you, the intended target was Lady Daniela. Across the room is the markswoman herself; Cassandra stood tall, huffing in anger, staring at the spot her sister had just vacated from.

“Damn it!” She yelled, stomping her foot as if the resulting shockwave might do what her weapon had not. Oddly amused, you’re quick to remove the sickle from the wall, careful as to not damage it. It’s a tad dirty, but nothing you can’t fix with your handy pocket cloth. Cleaning as you walk, you slowly move towards your employer, not even bothering to spare her a glance. After all, you had your own rules for dealing with her.

(1: Avoid eye contact for at least one minute after an outburst.)

By the time you make it to Cassandra, the minute has come and gone, allowing you to ever-so politely look her in the eyes when you return her blade. She scoffs, then practically rips the sickle from your hands. This was your job, however, so you made no complaints. Not that you could, at least not verbally. Instead, you gave a short bow of acknowledgement. Afterwards you stood still, awaiting either instructions or a dismissal. Neither came.

“I can’t believe that little shit tried to take my favorite dagger and thought she could get away with it! Agh, the nerve of her! Can you believe this?” Cassandra snapped, turning to you as if you might agree with her. Nod, simple yet effective. “At least you know how to handle a blade. Damn Daniela is lucky she didn’t get any scratches on mine.” Then she pulls the knife in question from its place on her belt, letting it gleam in the light. A soft exhale, head tipping to the side, wow is it pretty. So is the one holding it. Your mind wanders but your gaze does not. Always polite, always ready to serve.

(2: Do not get distracted; she is no patient lover, rather a demanding boss.)

“Cassandra! What was all that noise a minute ago?” Someone called, interrupting your ‘conversation’. The speaker soon appears, being none other than Lady Bela, the most reasonable of the castle residents. Though that meant little, considering the nature of her family. As if to prove your point, Cassandra merely rolls her eyes in reply, refusing to divulge the truth. And so Bela turned her gaze to you, perking a brow. “Feeling up to talking today?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Of course, your hands are already moving, not even waiting for her to finish speaking. This is a game you know intimately.

A hand goes to your belt, moving to pull a nonexistent blade from its sheath. Raising it, moving it forward then back several times, launching it towards the wall- towards the hole left behind. Then shifting, waving your hand in front of your face while exhaling a sharp breath. Flinching. An exaggerated gulp, pretending to check if your nose is still attached, sighing in relief. Lastly, an inclination of your head towards the culprit. Cassandra.

“I was aiming for Daniela. Not that it matters, nobody got hurt,” she stated, confident. Both hands clasped together, then tapping the palms together, mimicking a heartbeat at a reasonable pace. Suddenly a stomp. The beating stops, and you hold your hands next to your ear, as if listening for signs of life. Pause. Three seconds. Worried expression, eyes wide. Finally, fast as a gunshot, the heart beats again, wildly. At this, Bela shoots her sister a look of doubt, as well as judgement. Hoping to change the subject, Cassandra looks to you. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Rubbing your chin, thinking. Squinting for effect. Ah, got it! Both hands go to your sides, lifting the imaginary hem of a dress you aren’t wearing. Waltzing forward, yet in place, with the poise expected of a professional maid. Then the focus shifts to your face. Fear. A silent scream, a hand at your forehead, feeling like you… might… faint. Falling backwards, making a step at the very last second to prevent a real collapse. End scene.

“Someone was scared?” Bela asked, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of herself. When you nod, she does as well, considering the implications. “Why would they send you?”

“I hardly care why, I just want to know who so I can kick their ass,” Cassandra interjects, taking a step closer to you. All you do in response is shrug. Unsurprisingly this is not enough to please her, and before you know it she’s wrapped a hand around your throat. “Give. Me. A. Name. Now.” A perked brow. Thoughts practically telegraphed. ‘What do you expect?’ Opening your mouth, slightly, then wide, back to almost closed. No sound comes out. Obviously. It’s not like you wanted to break your own rule, but in this case you had no choice.

(3: Give her whatever she wants, consequences be damned.)

Luckily for you, Bela acts as a foil to Cassandra, there to smooth the seas. Moving behind you, she reaches into your back pocket and retrieves the notepad you keep there. Then she’s handing it to you while making eye contact with her sister. Cassandra promptly releases you, though she’s clearly not pleased, going so far as to push you away in one last act of anger. Internally you roll your eyes. On the outside, however, you quickly write down everything you know… which isn’t much.

“I don’t remember who it was. A lot of people have asked. This happens a lot.” Then you hand the paper to Bela, who soon looks back up at you in confusion. Too antsy to wait for her own turn, Cassandra yoinks the notepad from her sister’s hands, reading it over several times before reacting.

“What the fuck? Why would they send you to me because somebody pissed their pants in fear? I’m going to kill someone. Ugh, I don’t- this doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” Cassandra ranted, pacing back and forth, looking like she wanted to destroy something immediately. To your surprise, Bela doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned. If anything, she looks amused, and smiles when the two of you make eye contact. Something tells you that she knows something that you don’t. Before you can react, she quietly retrieves your notepad and returns it to you. Then she pauses, thinking, eying you with curiosity.

“Why don’t you go for now? See if anyone thanks you for stepping in, hmm?” She suggested, tone implying that this was absolutely about something else entirely. Still, you don’t care to disobey, and so you bid the two of them farewell with a deep bow. As you leave, you can almost make out part of what they say next. But you’re certain that you must have heard incorrectly. “Showing your favoritism a little too much, sister? If even the servants can see it-” the rest of the sentence is cut off by angry muttering from Cassandra. After that you’re too far away to hear anymore. What a strange day...

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

“Hey, you know where Lady Cassandra’s room is, right?” Ygritte asked, casually, definitely not having just been told by someone else that you were the solution to her problem. Pretending that you were unaware of this, you give her a smile and a nod. Later, behind her back, you will mentally add her to your list of people to watch out for. Maybe even decide to refuse to share your biscuits with her. In the meantime, you pretend that you don’t mind whatever task she’s about to dump on you. “Can you bring these books to her? I really have to get back to the kitchen soon, and that’s in the opposite direction…”

Technically true. Something told you that the real problem was that Cassandra had been extra loud the past few days. Regardless, you accept the books from her, leaving before she even finishes thanking you. Why do people do this? I don’t get it, you think. It’s like they think I’m immune to her rage. If that were true, I’d gladly throw myself between her and others. But no, that’s not the case. Hmmph, if only they saw my scars. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you keep walking, subconsciously rubbing the spot on your arm where Cassandra had cut you. Well, the worst spot. Being pain tolerant had made her take interest in you, during your first few weeks, but it’s what allowed you to learn her rules. Your rules, really.

Knock. Knock. A pause… three more, much softer. The door swings open, revealing your Lady, whose eyes widen at the sight of you. Tipping your hat (which you are not wearing), you greet her, forcing another smile. Then you present the books, free hand gesturing with a spiral motion towards them. She doesn’t respond. No, wait, she glances at the door hinges, considering closing the door in your face. Now both of you are staring at each other, daring the other to move.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she finally said. There’s a gruffness to her voice that you hadn’t expected. It’s unlike her usual tone, less angry, more tired. Were those bags under her eyes?... No, just smudged makeup. “Don’t just stand there- tell me why you’re here.” Again, you gesture to the books, extending your hands further towards her. This time she takes a half-step backwards to avoid you. Peculiar. “Someone else was supposed to bring them, dipshit. Fucking hell, why can’t anyone around here do their damn jobs?” At last, she takes the books from you, carrying them deeper into your room. Though she does not close the door, you assume that your job is done. Or maybe you simply do not wish to deal with a Cassandra who’s frustrated by your specific presence. Either way, it breaks one of your rules, though you do not remember until it is too late.

(4: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family.)

“Where the hell are you going?” The sound of buzzing flies, a blur of motion around you, then the form of Cassandra solidifying in front of you. One of her hands is raised, pressing against the center of your chest. She pushes you, hard, making you stumble backwards into her room. Next thing you know you’ve crashed onto her floor. A tad stunned, you bring a hand up to hold your head, blinking rapidly for a few seconds. There’s the sound of a door closing, and then someone’s trying to help you stand. “I didn’t say you could leave yet. Now c’mon, I’ve got stuff for you to do.” Then she’s guiding you to her bed, making you sit down on the end. Panicked thoughts race through your mind one after another. What exactly was she intending? Thankfully you don’t have to wait long to find out. “Read through these, and-” a pause, like she hadn’t known what she was going to say until she was already speaking- “take notes. Make a summary of the bookmarked sections, or whatever.” Handing you a couple books (neither of which being ones you had just brought to her), she sits on the other side of the bed, refusing to look at you. She does, however, say one last thing, voice barely above a whisper. “Just stay for a while, okay?”

Inside your head, you make a mental note to amend your list of rules.

(4.b: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family. If Cassandra asks you to stay, you stay, no matter what. It’s worth it.)

[ratofthemedievalsewers]

Heart of Steel - Part I

DBH Connor x Male Reader

Word Count: 2.5K+

Content warning: Minor injury detail, PTSD, language

Original game dialogue I got from this video:

https://youtu.be/32Np9LKI1Vg

We were attacked in the night.

After returning from a mission back to an outpost several miles from the red zone, we removed our gear save for a few pouches on our belts we could bother with later. Our team leader set up a fire while the SQ800s, CyberLife commissioned combat androids, began loading up the trucks with extra artillery and resources. A job that could have waited until morning, but Alpha always gave the androids something to do. He said that they creeped him out when they would just stand there in a dormant state, waiting for their next mission to be given to them.

"You know what I'm going to do when I get home?"

"Here we go again."

"I'm going to get me a WR400," Foxtrot; not everyone's favourite but he certainly kept us entertained when there was nothing to do.

"Uh-huh and with what money are you going to be using to pay for this WR400? A military salary definitely ain't gonna cut it." Echo always called out Foxtrot's bullshit, he was the only one that had the patience to deal with him.

"Fine, my birthday is comin' up, if you put towards two-thirds of what it costs we can share. How does that sound?"

"I am not sharing anything with you, I don't know what diseases you carry." Their constant back forth sent chuckles through the group.

"Alright, that's enough you two. It's getting late and past everyone's bedtime, I want you all awake by O-five-hundred at the latest," Alpha would often stop them before Foxtrot would take it too far, but he could never hide the twitching smile on his face.

"Yes sir," Foxtrot mock saluted as he stood from his seat around the campfire. "Hey Echo, that offer is still-"

One moment Foxtrot had a wide grin on his face, the next there was a hole in his head between his eyes, the sound of gunshot ringing in everyone's ears.

"SHOTS FIRED! GET TO COVER NOW!"

"FOXTROT IS DOWN! I REPEAT, FOXTROT IS DOWN!"

It was dark, we couldn't see where they were firing from. The android was the only one still standing, firing off in random directions as they were gunned down. The next was Delta, shot in the left shoulder, then the throat. My gun was back in my tent and there was no chance of me getting it. Stupid.

"MEDIC! GET TO DELTA! NOW!"

"GRENADE!"

I heard the thump by my feet before I saw it. You would think it would be terrifying, to know you're staring death in the face, but for a second it was peaceful. My body was cold and I already felt like a corpse, the Rigour Mortis freezing me in place, just softly gazing at what would kill me.

Something grabbed me before the grenade exploded, saving my life but destroying the android.

The bedsheets were crumpled and soaked in sweat again when my eyes shot open. It was hard to breathe, the panic was still running through me and closing up my throat at the memory.

In; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four. Out; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four.

It took a few minutes for me to remember where I was. That I was home and that I was safe. Out of nervous habit, I gripped my dog tags, they were wet from the sweat that had soaked through my shirt in the night.

"Shit." It was four in the morning, there was no chance of getting any more sleep and the station wouldn't be open for another two more hours at the least. Saying that; Fowler wanted to speak to me first thing, which never meant anything good for anyone.

It was aching again at the joint. The biomechanical component always felt itchy where it joined at the elbow. Anytime I would have that dream I would scratch at it in my sleep, it was like my subconscious knew it didn't belong. It knew my rotting left arm was still in the desert somewhere being picked apart by vultures.

It's almost ironic; to be saved by an android and then to have part of one attached to me. I hated it.

*****

"Morning Cyborg, you look like shit." Gavin was forever pleasant to talk to.

"Fuck off, Reed." He constantly hovered around the coffee machine, hogging it like it was his newborn baby. "Is Fowler in yet?"

"Not yet, you in trouble?" He took his time making his coffee, exceeding in being the department's resident asshat. "Did he catch you looking at porn on your work terminal again?"

"I'm pretty sure that's only ever happened to you." Not wanting to be reminded of his previous escapades I got no response. Gavin let out a small huff before moving to the side with his fresh cup of coffee, freeing up the machine.

"Officer (L/N)." Oh for fuck's sake.

"Sir?" Captain Fowler stood outside his office, his coat half soaked from the rain.

"My office, I need to speak to you." He didn't give a second glance to me before turning and letting the glass door shut behind him.

"Ha, good luck cyborg." Shooting Gavin the middle finger, I followed Captian Fowler into his office.

"What was it you wished to talk about, sir?" Feet shoulder-width apart, back straight and hands behind my back; habits from the army were destined to die hard. Often I would find myself moving my hand up to salute before leaving the presence of a superior, something else for Gavin to make fun of.

"You're aware of the deviant cases I've assigned to Lieutenant Anderson, correct?" Fowler sat at his desk, wet coat now hung on its rack, but there was slight dampness to his suit blazer where his coat had been left open.

"Yes sir. I believe he's being accompanied by a prototype RK800 from Cyberlife."

"That's correct. I'm sure you're aware that these deviancy cases are on the more..."

"Dangerous?"

"...Unpredictable side. Now, I can't exactly issue a gun to a prototype android if it's going to be in the field and, while I value Hank as a police officer, his record is on the rougher side."

"Captain Fowler, with all due respect, I don't believe-"

"Office (L/N), with all due respect, you don't have an opinion in this matter. I want you to accompany Lieutenant Anderson in these assignments just in case a deviant becomes too much for him or this android to handle. You've certainly got the skillset for it and you're not unfamiliar with working alongside androids, unlike quite a few officers in this department."

"I understand that, but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say I don't want to hear it." Captain Fowler didn't give me a chance to argue as he stood and walked to his office door, the annoyed look on his face worsening. "Hank, in my office!"

I let out a sigh before Captain Fowler turned back to his desk. Through the office wall made of glass Hank reluctantly made his way towards us grumbling something under his breath at the request, the RK800 model obediently following behind him like a little, lost puppy. Hank sat in the chair opposite Fowler while the android stood next to me, giving a small smile as a greeting.

Captain Fowler was the first to talk, "I've got ten new cases involving androids on my desk every day. We've always had isolated incidents, old ladies losing their android maids and that kind of crap... But now, we're getting reports of assaults and even homicides, like that guy last night. This isn't just cyberlife's problem anymore, it's now a criminal investigation and we've gotta deal with it before the shit hits the fan. I want you to investigate these cases, alongside officer (L/N) and see if there's any link."

"Why me? And why do I need a god damned partner? A stupid android is already too much. Why do I gotta be the one to deal with this shit?" Props to Hank for trying, but arguing with Fowler was like talking to a brick wall. "I am the least qualified cop in the country to handle this case! I know jack shit about androids, Jeffery. I can barely change the settings on my own phone."

"Everybody's overloaded. I think you're perfectly qualified for this type of investigation," They were already starting to blow up at each other.

"Bullshit! The truth is nobody wants to investigate these fuckin' androids and you left me holdin' the bag!"

"CyberLife sent over this android to help with this investigation and I've given you (L/N) as well. You've got a state of the art prototype and a leading police officer to act as your partners."

"No fuckin' way! I don't need partners, and certainly not this plastic prick and some action hero fucker."

"Nice working with you too, Lieutenant Anderson," I said under my breath, not intending for the others to hear. Connor turned his head slightly in my direction, I could see his LED blink yellow for a moment before going back to its bright blue.

"Hank, you are seriously starting to piss me off! You are a police lieutenant, you are supposed to do what I say and shut your goddamn mouth!"

"You know what my goddamn mouth has to say to you, huh?"

"I'll pretend like I didn't hear that, so I don't have to add any more pages to your disciplinary folder 'cause it already looks like a fuckin' novel! This conversation is over."

"Jeffrey, Jesus Christ! Why are you doin' this to me? You know how much I hate these fuckin' things. Why are you doin' this to me?" Most of the department knew why he had such a distaste towards androids, no one could necessarily blame him. Ever since losing his son Hank had become completely different as both a person and an officer. Admittedly, Fowler was harsh on him, but if he wasn't then Hank would drift.

"I've had just enough of your bitching. Either you do your job or you hand in your badge. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." Hank left in a strop, letting out his frustration on Fowler's office door.

"Well then..." Connor was quick to break the tense silence. His voice caught me off guard, it was smoother, more human than any android's I had heard before. The SQ800's voices had always been more robotic than other models so it had been a shock when the androids back home had sounded so normal, it felt like that all over again. It was jarring. "I won't keep you any longer. Have a nice day captain."

Connor left and I followed behind, giving a small nod of dismissal to Fowler despite him still looking at his terminal screen.

The android went straight to Hank either oblivious or ignoring the lieutenant's current bad mood, granted there was never a time the bastard was in a good mood. Heaven itself could rain down on Detroit and he'd huff at it like a hair in his food.

"I got the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant. I'd like you to know I'm very sorry about that. In any case, I'd like you to know I'm very to be working with you." Ever the enthusiast.

"I'd give in now. You're talking to a toddler in a fifty-year old's body and the toddler is having a hissy fit." I half sat and half leant against Hank's desk, using my arms to support my weight.

"Apologies, I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Connor, I am the android sent by CyberLife." He turned to me, a gentle and manufactured smile on his face. "It's a pleasure to be working with you too, officer (L/N). I'm sure we'll make a great team."

"Er... (Y/N) is just fine."

"Is there a desk anywhere I could use?"

"No one's using that one." Hank points to the desk opposite him, while still sulking like a child.

"Gasp, it speaks," I said in a sarcastic tone while turning to Hank.

"Fuck off. I've already got an android on my ass, I don't need you on it too."

I grabbed a terminal pad before perching myself back at the edge of Hank's desk while Connor got comfortable at the empty one. The light at the side of his head flashing yellow for a moment like he was hesitant to speak."You have a dog, right?"

"How do you know that?"

"The dog hairs on your chair. I like dogs. What's your dog's name?"

"What's it to you?" Hank shifted in his seat, "...Sumo... I call him Sumo."

"Under all those shitty shirts and questionable stains there's a warm, beating heart," I say more to myself than the other two, skimming over the recent case files sent in by Fowler.

"Officer (L/N)... (Y/N), knowing that we'd be working together I read your academy and field records. You have quite an interesting background."

"Oh yeah, then you understand that I may be a little driven to get these cases over with. I can't say I'm a fan of you terminators."

"I understand you have a... warped view of androids due to what you've experienced, but I hope you understand that I am your partner and not your enemy."

"Connor, you're not my partner, you're cyberlife's latest gizmo for us kick around." I sigh, turning to sit at my desk adjacent to hanks, taking the terminal pad with me. "Just look through the deviant case files. Terminals on your desk, knock yourself out."

They're nothing but machines. They are not your friends.

"Two-hundred and forty-three files, the first date back nine months. It all started in Detroit... And quickly spread across the country." Connor had only connected the terminal moments before.

"Don't work your CPU too hard," I mutter under my breath, catching a quick huff of amusement from Hank.

"An AX400 is reported to have murdered a man last night. That could be a good starting point for our investigation." Hank was doing his best to pretend Connor didn't exist, but the android was persistent. Connor stood from his chair and made his way into Hank's personal space.

"Uh, Jesus..." Hank turned his chair away.

"I understand you're facing personal issues, Lieutenant, but you need to move past them and-" For an android, Connor has some balls on him.

"Hey! Don't talk to me like you know me. I'm not your friend and I don't need your advice, okay?" Hank's mood had soured like milk, it wouldn't be long until Fowler was adding another page to Hank's disciplinary folder.

"I've been assigned this mission Lieutenant, I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working."

"Connor, you're just gonna-" I had wasted my breath, Hank had already stood and was grabbing onto Connor by the collar of his Cyberlife jacket and slamming against the screen next to his desk. "Hank!"

"Listen asshole. If it were up to me, I'd rather throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it. So, stop pissing me off... or things are gonna get nasty."

"Hank," I placed a hand on his shoulder to try and lightly pull him away from Connor but only earned a nasty side-eye. "Leave off him, you don't get paid enough to replace him."

"Lieutenant... Officer (L/N), uh... sorry to disturb you," Looks like the tin can was saved before Hank could knock the light out of him, "I have some information on the AX400 that killed that guy last night. It's been sighted in the Ravendale district."

"I'm on it." Hank didn't glance back when he dropped Connor's collar. The puppy dog look on his face almost made me feel bad for him... almost.

"Come on, WALL-E. Don't want to keep the old man waiting."

[sleepysnk]

i decided to write some angsty fluff for you guys because i just really wanted to get this idea off my chest. i hope you all enjoy! ♡

He Missed Out

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: some angst, swearing

"Still no response?"

(Y/N) sat there on Eren's bed staring at her phone. She was waiting for a reply from Jean, the guy she liked. He was lagging again on her for the 5th time and of course, she went to Eren to rant about it.

Eren and (Y/N) had been best friends since they were toddlers. Eren lived right next to her and their mothers were close, they bathed together, played at the playground, celebrated birthdays, went through the shitty four years of high school, and now they are going through the next four years of college.

The two watched each other grow up. They were no longer these children who played tag or rode bikes until the street light came on, but rather adults who had to prepare for their futures.

Eren's brunette hair was now long, it grew past his shoulders and could be tied in a neat man bun. (Y/N) grew into a woman practically overnight, her face showed her growth.

"I don't know why you're wasting your time, isn't this like the 5th time he's ghosted you?"

Eren stepped into the room with a bag of chips, he tossed it onto his bed so she could take it.

"He didn't ghost me! He's just not sure if he wants a relationship," she replied, grabbing the bag of chips off the side of the bed.

Eren rolled his teal eyes. "Yeah okay.. I've heard that one before. He ghosted you (Y/N), just like last time."

She leaned back against the headboard, she hated how Eren could be so pessimistic sometimes. He always looked at the bad in certain situations, it was clearly his toxic trait. He was too stubborn to admit it though.

She never understood his stubbornness, many people in high school questioned how she dealt with Eren and his crazy mood swings. He had a temper, causing him to get into fist fights and arguments with anyone in the student body that pissed him off. She always told those people that she could easily calm Eren down, somewhat like a comforter for him.

"He'll be back tomorrow," she said, opening the bag of chips and shoving a few in her mouth. Her tongue tasting the saltiness.

Eren didn't necessarily believe that. "Whatever you say.." he replied before plopping down next to her.

A sudden ping from her phone made her ears chirp. She grabbed it seeing Jean's name across the screen, a smile forming onto her lips.

Eren grabbed the phone from her. "Don't respond," he said, placing it next to him.

(Y/N) turned her head towards him. "Why not? Eren! Give me back my phone. It's rude to not respond," she said, trying to reach over and grab it.

His eyes narrowed, "What? (Y/N), you've got to be kidding me. He ignored you for a whole day, it's rude of him to not respond." he felt frustration going through him.

She pouted a bit, crossing her arms. "You never know Eren!"

Eren shoved her phone in his pocket. "Yeah okay.. you better provide the same energy. Don't reply to him and I swear if you do I will call your mom," he said and reached for the remote.

She rolled her eyes at Eren's actions. He didn't know why Jean wasn't responding, so why should he be mad?

"Fine, whatever you say." she said, looking at the tv screen.

-

The next day was another dreaded day of classes and homework. (Y/N) was swamped with assignments and so was Eren, he had so much to do he could barely keep count of the amount of essays and other work he had to do.

"We could study together!" Eren said, nodding his head at (Y/N) as they walked through the campus.

She was on her phone, not paying too much attention which bothered Eren.

"Hello?"

Eren grabbed her phone out of her hands.

"Eren! Give it back!" she yelled, trying to grab it from him.

He stared at the screen, seeing Jean's name displayed on the screen. Jealousy rang through Eren, it made his chest feel tight.

"Seriously?" he said. "I told you to give him a rest, (Y/N) he's literally a dick."

She rolled her eyes before taking her phone back. "Eren I get you're trying to be a good best friend, but really, I got this. He told me he was busy, relax." she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

Eren was frustrated, why the hell does she keep going back to the guy? He's put her through so much bullshit and it bothered him to the point that he wanted to punch Jean in the face himself. He always bit his tongue on it, but it was like a thorn in his side whenever she talked or ranted about him. Can't she see what's in front of her?

"Yeah.. whatever.. look I gotta go anyway," Eren said before walking away and leaving her there.

She watched as he turned the corner, fading from her vision. Eren was stubborn but he usually got over things like this, what was the problem now?

Eren scoffed making his way to class, his mind was now clouded with negative thoughts. He wished (Y/N) would just listen to him! No matter how much he tried she wouldn't ever give his words a chance, it's like she didn't want to face the actuality that Jean was a lying asshole.

As Eren turned the corner he was faced with a sight that made his vision turn red.

There was Jean.

Leaning in against another girl.

His green eyes grew wide at the sight, what the fuck was he doing? His eye twitched at the sight, Jean was lying to her. It was blatantly obvious, and that explained why he would disappear for hours to days on end. (Y/N) was his second choice. He whipped out his phone, snapping a photo before heading off to class.

-

Two weeks went by and (Y/N) heard nothing from Eren.

No calls, no texts, nothing.

She tried approaching him at school but he ignored her, he avoided going in the same directions she did and whenever she tried texting him the messages were always opened.

She wasn't sure what she did but she needed her best friend right now. Jean stopped talking to her again, and she needed a listening ear. Eren was her usual go to but without him here, she didn't know what to do.

Here she stood outside Eren's apartment. Her heart thumped in her ears, she could feel it throughout her whole body.

She knocked on the door, waiting for a response.

The door opened, Eren's gaze met hers. She could faintly see his jaw tighten up and his face harden from the sight of her.

"Eren.. um, can we talk?"

He didn't say anything but move so she could enter his apartment. She could smell the faint scent of his body wash on his skin.

"Don't you have class?" he asked, plopping down on a chair.

She fidgeted with her fingers. "Um no.. I finished my classes early," she replied, looking at him nervously.

He nodded his head before sipping the water in his cup. "Mm.. I see"

She felt the awkwardness and tension through the air, something was up. She just didn't know exactly what.

"Jean stopped talking to me again.." she said, avoiding his eyes.

A chuckle escaped Eren's throat. "Huh.. doesn't surprise me but what can I say, you let it happen." he stood up, heading towards the sink.

What the hell? Eren has never said shit like this before to her.

"Okay seriously, what the fuck is your problem!? You ignore me for two weeks and now you're being a dick??" she scoffed.

Eren's head snapped towards her. "My problem? You want the honest truth, (Y/N)? You really wanna hear what the fuck is going on?!" he yelled, his voice sounding serious.

"Yes! It'd be good to know!" she replied, crossing her arms.

He laughed before leaning against the counter. "Jean doesn't fucking like you. Okay? I'm so fucking tired of how dense you are."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What? Eren you don't understand how complicated it is!" she replied.

He laughed again before sliding his phone in front of her. "What's complicated about that huh?"

She picked up the phone, her eyes grew wide at the sight of Jean leaning against another girl. She felt hurt, angry, upset. Nothing could pinpoint how she felt.

"I-I'm.." she felt tears burning her eyes.

"It's so hard being your friend.." he mumbled, looking at her.

Her head shot up, "What?! Eren-"

"No let me fucking speak for once. It's so hard being best friends with you, these guys walk all over you! And guess what? I'm the one who has to fix you! Then what do you do (Y/N)? You go back and let them treat you like shit."

Tears rolled down her cheeks, a few sobs escaped her mouth.

"Eren-"

"I'm not finished, do I gotta remind you? Levi Ackerman during your freshman year? Porco Galliard your junior year? I was there for all of that. You kept going back to them and you never once listened to me! I warned you so many times, yet you rather not face the facts. I was always there to pick up the pieces." he said, his voice loud.

She sobbed, Eren was right. She never listened to him, he always was the one to give her warnings and yet she still went for it anyway.

"Eren.. I-I'm s-sorry.." she cried.

He scoffed, "It's just.. you never saw who was in front of you," he said, looking at the floor.

Her head shot up, "What? What do you mean?" she asked, her brows furrowed.

"Don't you get it (Y/N)?" he asked.

She shook her head, "N-No..? I don't even understand why you're yelling at me either!" she replied, wiping a few tears off her cheeks.

"Christ (Y/N), I fucking love you that's why!"

Silence filled the room between them. She felt her heart suddenly swell, deep down she always knew she loved Eren.. she just pushed those feelings away because she thought it was just a best friend kind of love. But it was more.

"B-But.. what about Mikasa? A-And Historia?" she asked.

Eren walked towards her. "(Y/N).. I love you, I never loved Mikasa or Historia.. they were just close friends. I always hung around them to try and push what I felt away," he replied.

"I don't understand.. how long? Why didn't you ever just come clean?" she asked, few tears escaping her eyes.

He looked away from her. "(Y/N) I knew I loved you when we started high school, Armin noticed, so did Mikasa. I wanted to come clean sooner but everytime we got close you found another guy and pushed me out of the picture."

Her eyes went to the floor, she was trying to process this information. She never once thought Eren felt the way she did, she always figured that she'd be only a best friend, nothing more.

"Eren.. I'm sorry, I'm such a horrible best friend." she said, sniffling a bit.

He walked in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Don't apologize.. I don't wanna see you hurt anymore that's all," he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the tears on her cheeks.

She looked into his eyes, she noticed how they softened now. "E-Eren.. I-I love you.." she said, curling her fingers around his wrist.

His eyebrows shot up, "What? N-No you don't.. you're just saying that to make me feel better," he replied, looking away.

She used her hand to turn his face towards her again. "Have I ever lied to you? Eren.. I knew I loved you, I thought it was just a best friend type of love, but I knew deep down it was more than that."

His cheeks dusted pink, "I just... I don't want you saying it because I said it. You genuinely mean so much to me and fuck... (Y/N) I wanna be the one to heal you from everything," he said, cupping her cheek. "I want to make you forget all of the hurt you went through."

She felt a smile grow onto her cheeks. "I'd.. love that," she replied, looking into his hues.

Their faces were now inches apart, his lips ghosted over hers before he leaned in and kissed her. Her lips were soft, warm, the kiss was passionate, it felt.. real. Her arms went around his neck, bringing him down closer to her.

His hands found their way to her hips, he pressed her body against his.

Breaking the kiss, she looked up at him. "I love you.." she said.

A smile grew onto his lips. "I love you too.." he replied. "Please.. let me be the one to heal you from all of this, I promise, I'll never hurt you."

Her cheeks grew warm, "You promise?"

"Have I ever lied to you..?" he asked.

She felt a smile grow onto her features. "Well no.." she replied.

He pecked her lips, "There's your answer, now come on, let me take care of you."

He lifted her up, her legs going around his waist. "Eren! Be careful," she said, slapping his shoulder.

"I won't drop you, trust me!" he said, taking her to his room.

-

"I haven't heard from (Y/N) in days," Jean said, looking at Connie.

He shrugged, "I dunno! Maybe she lost her phone," he said.

Jean sighed, maybe she was just busy? He wasn't sure.

"Uh.. Jean?" Connie said, hitting his arm and pointing at someone.

Jean looked up, his jaw dropping.

There she was, but she wasn't by herself. She was with.. Eren??

"Ha! Sucks to be you!" Connie said, chuckling at Jean's expression.

He glared at him, "Shut up! What the hell?! That doesn't make sense.. she was talking to me!" he said.

Eren smirked as he walked past Jean and Connie, his hand around (Y/N)'s waist. He felt enjoyment watching Jean get pissed, he also seemed to take in that Jean noticed the small bite marks around her neck. All provided by Eren of course.

"Stupid Eren.." Jean mumbled.

Eren looked at (Y/N), she smiled up at him. "That was probably the most petty thing I've done," she giggled.

Eren smirked, leaning down to kiss her lips. "He missed out," he replied.

"He certainly did." she said, taking his hand into hers and going to class.

[asher-the-diaster]

the sister planets part 9

the penner project

this is part of a ingoing humans are space orcs series that i'm not totally sure how i ended up writing, as always the link to the part index is here https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DYMuKK5CIgJgDapNbu5sBqr_b5uT1Yz4pJoJ2fuAk4w/edit?usp=sharing

Earth was in chaos, and I had never felt this useless in my whole life.

After first contact with extraterrestrials, the government tried to keep the information classified, which did not work. And when footage leaked and people discovered that the Canadian prime minister had been at diplomatic contact soon the fact that i was the one who made contact was out of the bag too.

My crew was on leave to recover from the ordeal, and deal with the fact that ourship exploded, so I was on earth witnessing the chaos first hand, unable to do anything.

Aliens.

Everyone was up in arms.

Riots in the streets, death prophecies, just general incoherent panic.

My crew ended up in a secure facility, partially to monitor our health both physical and mental, mostly to keep us safe from being targeted by the riots outside.

Governments went largely silent on the issue. Censorship cut off information from the general public in an attempt to curb the chaos, it did not work.

After three weeks of non stop general panic a nurse told me that there was someone who wanted to see me.

I got dressed as professionally as you can in a hospital with a broken leg and walked out on my crutches, now a human model. I was kinda sad they didn’t let me keep the one twee-ake had given me.

The nurse led me into the common room, then handed me a translation device.

“The fuck? I thought this was my family or something.”

“They’ll call you in when they're ready.”

“Okay...” i put on the device, it looked like a pair of over the ear headphones someone had removed one ear from and pushed the other one out, the point to that was to ensure that you could still hear your environment during translation, i put it on and pushed the bottom that let the mic pick up my voice to translate.

Soon after I had the device on, the other members of my crew started to arrive in the common room. Unsurprisingly Olivera looked the most put together, how she had gotten her uniform in here I don't know. Davoin wore jeans and a t- shirt, and Richardson was in sweats.

None of us seemed to have any clue what was going on.

I was called in first, they led me to a conference room type place at the end of the hall.

Inside was my platoon leader, the nato and spto generals, a rep from the UN, and my brother, the prime minister of canada.

“Should I be in uniform?” I asked.

“It's fine captain, we understand that you are recovering from your... ordeal.”

“Right.” get abducted by aliens one time and everyone puts the kiddy gloves on around you, “May I ask what is happening here?”

“Sure, so you are obviously aware of our first contact with extraterrestrials, and the problems that have arisen on their front and ours.”

“Yeah.”

“Well our delegations and their contact crew, I believed they were called, have come up with a solution to the problems that have arisen due to these particular circumstances.”

“You mean the fact that the two most advanced species in interstellar life happen to be martians and venusians who are terrified of us because they think they were children of a death god? Or the riots about aliens existing?”

The UN rep looked at Mathew, “don’t look at me I've seen her cuss at a president, that is filtered for her.”

“Anyways. The spto rep said, “the solution that was reached was a joint study in interstellar space, we send a crew on a interspecies ship that will run odd jobs in order to help with the galaxy and they also send crews to join us, we get to study and learn from each other.”

“That sounds like a plan but why tell me?”

“Because,” Matt said, putting his head in his hands, “they want you to run it.”

“Well you too captain the ship, not necessarily do the study.”

“Why me? I stuck at improving humans opinions on humans, why woud anyone want me to represent the planet?”

“The martians and venusians, twee-ake and titita? Asked for you by name.`` Mathew said, rubbing his temples.

“Ok,” i trusted those too, they had saved my life, if they were involved i trusted the project.

“What?”

“As long as my crew can come I'll do it.”

“Catain,” the nato general said, “we are talking about being light years from your home, at the wimes of a race and we know nothing about, I implore you, think this through.”

“I have, these people saved me and my crew's lives, that bodes a lot of trust for me, plus they legitimately think we are children of a death god, they won’t try to hurt me. If my crew is allowed to come and is willing, I'm in.”

“Your crew, if willing, were on our list of potentials, along with an even number of citizens from the spto, we refuse to let nato do this without our input.”

“Understood.”

“Can I talk to my sibling out in the hall?” Mat asked, “great” he said not waiting for an answer, he pulled me by the arm and into the hall.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a whisper yell.

“Agreeing to help my people advance, how is this different from you running for pm, this is my way of helping earth.”

“This could end badly, we don’t know anything about these people. What if they hurt you?”

“Did you miss the part where they saved my life?”

“You could get even more hurt.”

“My leg wasn’t there flaut, and even if it was you can get hurt walking down the street, the possibility of injury is nothing new to me matthew.”

“Sam please.”

“I love you, but this isn’t your decision to make.”

10 minutes later me and my crew were in front of the brass, as they finished the project's explanation.

“Well?” i asked, “we can’t force you to go but i’m not doing this without you, what do you say?”

“Let's blow this popsicle stand.” Richardson exclaimed.

“In 5 weeks when the ship and your broken bones are ready.”

“Am i the only one who is wondering how this is going to stop the riots?” Oliveira asked.

“We are keeping the interior mission declassified, we are working for open information and familiarity to stop the panic.”

“I feel like that logic is flawed but okay…”

As we discussed the details I caught a glimpse of Mathew, he looked worried sick, but he would come to understand, wouldn’t he? This was what the oracle started, and what our remaining members would finish.

[americasass91]

His Kind of Beautiful

Hello lovely people! I don’t even know where to begin here. My ex popped up as a friend I may know on Facebook the other day. Of course it brought up all these memories. (I’ve been with my husband for over a decade so this ex was from way back when.) Anyways, I couldn’t help but think back to when and why we broke up. We worked together (that was a mistake) and I was chatting with one of our coworkers. The guy looked at me and was like ‘I don’t want to get in the middle of anything but your boyfriend said something about you the other day and it bothered me.’ I told him to tell me what he said. ‘He said you weren’t pretty enough to blow him.’ (Fun fact! I had already blown him a few times by this point.) So of course I thought my life was ruined. I mean I was only 17/18. I called him right away and asked him if it was true. The fucker didn’t even deny it! He was like I was just joking around. So I told him since I wasn’t pretty enough to blow him, I wasn’t pretty enough to date him either. That’s the last time I spoke to him.

Anyways! That’s what inspired this little fic. I know we all go through days where we don’t feel pretty or beautiful. But you know what? We are all beautiful no matter what! Please if you ever feel less than that and need to talk, I am here and willing to listen! Nobody should go through life feeling anything less than beautiful.

So I knew I needed to somehow incorporate this into a fic. At first I was going to go with Steve but I took a look at my Masterlist and realized I only had one Andy fic on there. That’s just despicable! So without any further ado, please enjoy this fic with our lovely, handsome floofy haired lawyer daddy!

Rating: Explicit (Like I could write something that doesn’t involve sex with Andrew)

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: Language, fingering, unprotected sex(Remember: Sex is cleaner with a packaged weiner), and just Andy being fluffy

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You honestly didn’t even know why you had agreed to this. You hated first dates in general, let alone a blind date.

But your friend, Jane, assured you this guy was handsome and nice and worth your time to go out with.

So, you pulled a blue dress from your closet that you’d only worn maybe twice in your life and actually did your eye makeup.

After getting fully ready you take one last look at yourself in the mirror. For once you didn’t hate the woman staring back at you. This dress happened to accentuate your curves and the color of your eyeshadow made your eyes pop. You wouldn’t necessarily say you were pretty, but you looked decent.

You slip on your heels and grab your purse and head out of your apartment. As you go to lock your door, the apartment door behind you opens.

“Good evening, neighbor.”

You turn around with a smile on your face and return the greeting to your sinfully handsome neighbor, Andy.

He can’t help but notice how pretty you look. “Where are you going all dressed up?”

You blush and start heading towards the elevator together. “Oh, my friend set me up on a blind date. I’m nervous. Haven’t been on a date in awhile.”

He presses the button for the lobby. “Blind date, huh? Yeah I went on one of those recently. First date since the divorce. It was...interesting.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as you both headed into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. You turn towards him. “Interesting, how?”

“Well, for starters, she was almost an hour late. Then when she showed up, she didn’t even apologize for being late. She just sat down and demanded the waiter bring her a cocktail. By snapping her fingers at him.”

The elevator doors open. You head into the lobby and notice Andy following you. “So I think it’s safe to say you aren’t calling her for a second date?” He opens the door to the outside for you. You smile in thanks and head out into the warm evening air of Boston.

He rolls his eyes as he follows you onto the street and hails down a cab. “Absolutely not.” He gestures for you to take the cab.

You look at him confused. “Don’t you need one?”

He waves you off. “Nah, I’m heading to pick up Jake to take him to dinner. He finally found some time to fit his old man into his ‘busy’ teenager schedule.” He heads towards his Audi you now realize is parked in front of the building right behind your cab.

You scoff at him as you open the cab door. “Old man? Oh, please. You can’t be more than what? 38?”

He opens the door to his own vehicle and smirks at you. “Try 43, sweetheart. Hey! Good luck on your date!” He waves and gets into his car. You return the wave and get into the cab and give the driver the address to the restaurant and try to get your mind off of how good Andy’s ass looked in the jeans he was wearing.

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You arrived at the restaurant with a few minutes to spare. You wanted to get there a little early so you could get a drink from the bar and calm your nerves.

You find a seat away from the other patrons and order a glass of wine. You scan your eyes over the room to see if your date has arrived yet. You weren’t entirely sure what he looked like but you knew he was going to be wearing a red shirt.

The bartender sets your wine in front of you. You hand over a 10 dollar bill and tell him to keep the change. As you sip your wine, you check your phone for the time. 7:02. You’re about ready to text your friend to ask if your date is normally late when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

You turn around and look up at who you assume to be your date for the evening. He was handsome. Not as handsome as Andy, but handsome enough.

He gives you a small smile. “Hi, are you Y/N?”

You nod your head with a smile. “Yes, hi! It’s nice to meet you. You must be Jason?” You then gesture to the seat next to you. “Would you like to have a drink before we get a table?”

He nods once and takes a seat next to you and flags down the bartender to order a scotch.

The bartender sets the drink in front of him. Jason thanks him and pays for his drink.

You can feel the awkwardness start to creep in. And when that happens, you tend to get chatty.

“So, what do you do for a living?” You smile hoping to ease the tension building.

He turns to look you up and down. And not subtly. He shakes his head in disapproval and downs his drink before standing up. “Listen, I’m sorry but I can’t do this. Jane lied to me.”

You can’t help the confused look that crosses your face. “She lied to you? How?”

He gives you another not so subtle once over. “She told me you were beautiful. And no offense, but I just don’t see it.”

You can’t help the jaw drop. Sure you knew you weren’t gorgeous but damn. You’d never had a man be bold enough to actually say it to your face. “So, you’re just gonna leave? Not even give me a chance because I’m not your version of beautiful?”

He scoffs and checks out a girl that walks by the two of you. “What can I say? I’ve got standards that you just don’t meet.”

You feel like you’ve just been punched in the gut. That’s it. You’re fucking done. You reach behind you and grab your wine glass and throw the drink in his face.

You grab your purse and head towards the door. You turn back to face him. “I may not meet your ‘beauty standards’ but at least I’m not an asshole!” With that you flip him off and head outside to hail a cab to head back home.

You manage to make it almost all the way home before the tears start to fall. Sure he was a stranger and his opinion didn’t matter. But it still fucking hurt that he didn’t want you and didn’t even think you were pretty enough to share a meal with. Your self esteem already sucked and this asshole sure as hell didn’t make it any better.

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The blue dress goes in the trash as soon as you step into your apartment. You take off your nice lace bra you had put on. You take your makeup off with a wipe and pull your hair up in a ponytail. You throw on some hello kitty pajama shorts and a t- shirt that’s at least 2 sizes too big for you.

Then you head into your kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine from a bottle you keep in the fridge for emergencies. You think this classifies as one.

You grab your phone off the counter and call your favorite Chinese place. You order double what you normally do because nobody wants to sleep with you. Might as well eat whatever the fuck you wanted. God, you can’t believe you shaved your legs for that asshole.

The lady on the phone lets you know it’ll be at least an hour. You give her your card number and thank her before refilling your now empty glass.

As you’re sitting on the couch waiting for your food, you can’t help but replay the events of the evening. Then that takes you into a downward spiral as you think back to all of your exes.

Come to think of it, they’ve all left you for one reason or another. A majority of them cheated with someone way prettier than you. Wow, maybe you were the problem. Clearly you were going for guys out of your league.

Maybe you needed to reevaluate the standards you had. Which quite frankly, wasn’t much. You just wanted them to not be a serial killer.

Perhaps you should just give up on dating. You were perfectly happy alone. Maybe that’s how it was supposed to be for you.

Before your thoughts could spiral anymore, your doorbell rang. You glance at your phone. Damn that hour flew by.

You grab $10 out of your purse for a tip and open your door. As you’re grabbing the bags and thanking the delivery guy, Andy steps out of the elevator with confusion written all over his face. “Hey, Y/N. Thought you had a date?”

You could almost feel the tears trying to well up again. No, you weren’t going to cry. Especially in front of your handsome neighbor.

“Yeah, it uh, didn’t work out. Shit happens.”

He puts his key in the lock and opens his door then turns to look at you. “Not your type?”

You can’t help the rush of air that leaves your mouth. “Not exactly. I wasn’t his. Apparently Jane, our mutual friend, told him I was beautiful and well. He didn’t agree with her.”

Andy furrows his brows and cocks his head to the side. “What? Was he blind or something?”

You shake your head. “Nope. I just wasn’t up to his standards.”

Andy mumbles something under his breath. “Well, I’m sorry. Some guys can be real assholes.”

You wave him off. “No need to apologize. I get that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”

Andy shakes his head. “Still, I’m sorry. That really sucks. And he really said you weren’t beautiful to your face?”

You give him a sad smile and shrug your shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m used to not being wanted. Have a nice night, Andy.”

You turn and head back into your apartment before he has a chance to reply. You don’t need his pity. You just need to drown yourself in the rest of your wine and gorge yourself on the greasy Chinese.

Just as you set the food down on the counter, you hear a knock at your door.

Confused, you head over and open it to find Andy standing there. And he looks kinda pissed.

“What do you mean you’re used to not being wanted?”

You sigh and put your hands on your hips. “It’s not the first time some guy hasn’t wanted me and it won’t be the last.”

Andy shakes his head as he pushes his way inside and shuts the door with his foot. “There’s just something I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “And what’s that?”

He then proceeds to walk closer to you, forcing you backwards until your back touches the wall. He puts his hands on either side of your head and gazes down at you. You’ve never been this close to him before. You can feel his chest move against yours as he breathes. You can feel the heat radiating off of him.God, he smells good.  You realize you’re not breathing and take a deep breath. He smiles down at you and takes his left hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear that had fallen free from your ponytail.

“That some moron would think that you’re not beautiful. He’s fuckin crazy, Y/N.”

Your breath hitches as his left hand has now grabbed the back of your neck to raise your lips towards his. You close your eyes, waiting for the inevitable kiss. “I guess I’m just not everyone’s kind of beautiful.”

He leans in, just barely brushing his lips against yours. “You’re my kind of beautiful.”

WIth that, he presses his lips to yours for a slow but intense kiss. You can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him all the way up against you. He grunts when his hardening cock comes into contact with your soft belly.

After a few minutes of intense kisses that take your breath away, he pulls back and presses his forehead against yours. “Will you let me show you how beautiful I think you are?”

You don’t even need to think about it. “Yes, please.”

He smiles and leans in for one more quick kiss. “Take me to the bedroom, pretty girl.”

You quickly grab his hand and lead him down the hall towards your bedroom, making a quick stop in the kitchen to throw the Chinese food in the fridge.

Once in your room Andy spins you around and presses your back up against his front. He leans forward and starts placing soft kisses against your neck. His left hand rests at your waist while his right hand moves up under your shirt towards your breasts. “Is this okay, pretty girl?” His voice is so low and husky. Your panties didn’t even stand a chance.

You nod. “Yes, please. Touch me, Andy.”

He groans a little and reaches up to cup your right breast in his hand. You hear him let out a growl as he continues to fondle your breast. While his left hand makes its way into your shorts, brushing his finger over your clit. You jolt forward at the sensation, whimpering out in the process.

“You like that, pretty girl? Like my fingers on your little cunt?”

You grab a hold of his wrist and writhe against him as he lowers his fingers towards your entrance. He gathers your slick up before moving his fingers back towards your clit and starts slowly circling it.

“Fuck, Andy. Feels so good.”

“Yeah? You want my fingers inside you, baby?”

You quickly nod. “Please. Need to feel you.”

He lowers his hand back down to your entrance and slowly slides his middle finger against your walls. You arch your back and moan out his name as he starts pumping it slowly.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight. When’s the last time you’ve been touched, pretty girl?”

“Too long. Feels so good. I need more. Please.”

His index finger quickly joins the middle one. He starts pumping them in and out of you quicker, curling them just right so they rub up against your g spot. “Oh, fuck!” You can’t help but yell out at the feeling. It’s been so long since someone’s taken the time to pleasure you, let alone find your g spot. You could feel the coil tightening already. You were embarrassingly close and he hadn’t even really started yet.

“You gonna cum for me already, pretty girl? Do it. Make a mess on my fingers.”

He moves his thumb and starts circling your clit. Your legs start shaking. He presses his thumb down just a little harder and you’re gone. You cum with a shout of Andy’s name into the otherwise empty room.

He continues pumping his fingers in and out but removes his thumb from your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you too much. “Good girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

You lower your head in embarrassment. He spins you around and places his finger under your chin so he can raise your head so you’re looking at him. “Don’t hide from me, pretty girl. I want to see everything.” He takes his left hand and raises it to his mouth, sucking your essence off of his fingers. He moans into his hand. “You taste so fucking sweet. Knew you would.”

He grabs your face to pull you in for a sweet kiss as he slowly pushes you towards the bed. The back of your knees touch your mattress before he pulls away. He smiles down at you as he grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it up and off, tossing it somewhere in the room. His gaze then falls to your breasts. He licks his lips hungrily. Before he can get too caught up, he hooks his thumbs into your shorts and pulls them and your panties down and off your legs, helping you step out of them.

He stands back up and pulls you in for another kiss, your hands fall to his chest. You start to unbutton his shirt, revealing his chest to you a little at a time. You pull away to get the last few buttons and push his shirt over his shoulders and are surprised to see his chest and abdomen sprinkled with various tattoos. You never would’ve guessed. You can’t help but let your hand trace over a quote on his collarbone or onto the eagle covering his pec.

“I never would have pegged you for a tattoo guy. These are amazing.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I only have them where they can be covered up by clothes.” He grabs your wrists to stop your tracing. “You can trace all of them some other time, pretty girl. Right now, I need to be inside of you.”

You can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine at his words. His dirty talk was going to be the death of you.

He moves his hands towards his belt buckle and starts undoing it. You couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble to his hands. You place your hands on top of his and look at his face. “Hey, if you don’t want to do this, that’s ok.”

He looks into your eyes and gives you a shy smile. “No, I want to. God, do I want to. It’s just, I haven’t been with anyone since Laurie and I guess I’m a little nervous.”

You couldn’t help the pull you felt at your heart at his words. He was nervous. Thank god. So were you. This beautiful man wanted to sleep with you, of course you were nervous. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous too. You’re kind of intimidating.”

He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brows. “Intimidating? Why is that?”

You remove your hands from his and gesture up and down his body. “Just look at you. You’re breathtaking, Andy. And I’m just me.” Your gaze falls down to your feet, unable to look at him.

He puts his finger under your chin and raises your head so that you’re forced to look at him. “Speak for yourself, pretty girl. You’re the breathtaking one.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Yeah, right.”

His gaze on you hardens just a little. He grabs your hand and places it over his pants against his erection. “Do you feel that? Feel what you do to me? Nobody but you can make me this hard, pretty girl. I’ve been in a constant state of arousal since I moved in, watching you coming in and out of your apartment in your tight skirts and almost see-through blouses. Making me go fuckin’ crazy.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything or make a move then?” Of course your self doubt was starting to creep in. Maybe this was him just wanting to get his dick wet. You needed to know.

He grabs your hands and brings your knuckles to his mouth, giving them a soft kiss. “Honestly? I thought there was no way in hell an old man like me would have a shot with a sweet thing like you.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your mouth. “Please. You’re only 43.”

He pulls you in for a sweet, lingering kiss. “Yeah, well. Probably too old for you. But after what you said to me, about how you’re used to not being wanted? I stopped caring how old I was. I needed to show you just exactly how much you’re wanted. So, can I still show you, pretty girl?”

You quickly nod your head and help him finish removing his pants, leaving him in just his black briefs. The fabric doing nothing to hide the outline of his hard cock. Jesus. He looked big. Bigger than anything you’ve taken. You couldn’t wait.

You quickly pulled his briefs over his hips and down his legs. His cock sprang free and smacked against his inked abdomen, making him hiss. You grab him at the base and slowly start pumping him, looking at his face for his reaction. His head is thrown back and his eyes are closed as he moans out your name at the feeling. His hands are gripping your hips.

You smear his precum that’s gathered at the tip and use that to help jerk him off a little faster. You tighten your grip as you pick up your pace, loving the sounds you're pulling from him. You start to go on your knees when he suddenly pulls you back up. You look at him in confusion. “If I let you continue, this will be over before it even starts. Gonna make me blow my load like an inexperienced teenager.”

You couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself but once again furrow your brows as Andy walks to the other side of the bed. He starts looking around in your nightstand. “Do you have any condoms?”

You shake your head. “I did but they expired. If you’re okay with it, I’m on birth control. And I got tested after my last partner and I’m clean.”

He pushes the drawer to the nightstand back in and climbs onto the bed and lays on his back, hand lazily stroking his cock. “I’m more than okay with that. I just had a full work up done. I’m healthy as well.”

You barely acknowledge what he said, unable to remove your eyes from his hand that’s wrapped around his cock. You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth and let out a little whimper. Andy chuckles at you. “Well, are you going to just stare at it, pretty girl? Or are you going to hop on my lap and get comfy?”

That gets your attention. You meet his gaze. “You want me on top?”

He nods. “Wanna be able to see all of you, baby girl.” He removes his hand from his cock and pats his thigh. “Come on, pretty girl. Ride me.”

Well that sight just caused a new wave of arousal to pool at your core. You had only been on top once before and it was only for a short time.

You place your knees gently on the bed and crawl the short way to him. You swing your left leg over him so that you're sitting right above where he wants you. You thread your hands through his hair and lean down for a heated kiss. You lick his bottom lip, wanting in. He doesn’t even hesitate to open his mouth to let you in.

He places his left hand on your hip while the other grabs his cock. He pushes your body down so that you’re hovering over it. “Please. Fuck me, pretty girl.”

You keep your lips attached to his as you slowly sink down on him. You get about halfway before you stop and pull away to look at him, trying to slow down your breathing. He brings his right hand up to cup your cheek. “You ok? Do you wanna stop?” The quick shake of your head makes him chuckle. “No, god no. I just need a minute. You’re fucking huge Andy.”

He can’t help the cocky smirk that appears. “Yeah, I know. Just take all the time you need.” He rubs his hand up and down your back to help calm you down. It only takes you a few more seconds before you continue to impale yourself on his impressive dick.

You let out a breath of relief when your hips settle flush against his. He grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for another kiss. You slowly start rocking your hips against him. He feels fucking incredible. Hitting all the right spots inside of you.

You pull away from the kiss and raise up a little and plant your hands on your headboard for some leverage. The rock of your hips speed up significantly. You move all the way up until his tip is barely inside before you slam yourself back down against him. You’re pulling the most beautiful sounds from his lips. It makes you move that much faster and harder against him.

Andy moves his hands to your breasts and gives them a good squeeze. Then he starts pinching your nipples, eliciting a moan from you. “That’s it, baby girl. Doing so good. You look so gorgeous fuckin’ yourself on my cock. Goddamn. Riding me so well.”

The praise he’s giving you just spurs you on. You raise up even more and place your hands on his chest and pick up your pace just a little more. You can feel the coil tightening in your belly. You’re going to cum and hard.

Andy keeps his left hand on your breast and keeps pinching your nipple. He moves his right hand down until his thumb is pressing against your clit, giving you the friction you needed. “Can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. Cum for me. Make a mess.”

He presses his thumb just a little harder and that’s all it takes. You free fall over the edge of bliss with a scream of Andy’s name, your hips faltering from their rhythm.

You slow down your pace as you come down from your high, collapsing against Andy’s chest. He cradles you in his arms and rubs his hands up and down your back. “Still with me, sweet girl?”

You weakly nod your head and take just a second to catch your breath. It takes you a moment to realize he didn’t finish. You raise your head off his chest to look at him. “Why didn’t you cum?”

He smiles and pulls you in for a sweet kiss. “Oh, I will. Don’t worry. Just wanted to watch you fall apart on top of me. And let me just say, it’s one of the prettiest sights I’ve ever seen. You look gorgeous when you cum, Y/N. Almost made me lose it. Think you can take some more?”

You nod your head eagerly, already wanting to cum around his cock again. “Then why don’t you be a good girl and turn around and get on your hands and knees for me?”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You quickly pull off of him and turn around to get on your hands and knees. He takes a second to admire the view of your once again dripping pussy before he gets up on his knees behind you. He grabs a hold of your ass and gives it a hard squeeze. “Such a nice ass. I bet it’ll jiggle real nice while I’m fuckin’ you.”

He grabs a hold of the base of his cock and moves it towards your entrance. Before he starts pushing in, he gives your right cheek a hard smack. You drop down onto your elbows and moan into the sheets below you. Fuck. You didn’t know you liked that. He places his right hand on your hip and squeezes.

“Hmm. We’ll have to revisit that later.” And that’s the last thing he says before he slams home. You arch your back and fist the sheets as he sets a hard and fast pace.

And boy was he right. Your ass does jiggle nicely with every snap of his hips against it. He threads his left hand through your hair and gives it a tug. It makes you clench around him. “Fuck, baby girl. Keep squeezing me like that and I’m not going to last long.”

You move your head to the side and peer back at him. You clench around him again and it earns you another groan and smack to your ass. “Want you to cum for me, Andy. Please. Fill me up.”

He stills for just a second and wraps his left arm around your chest and lifts you up until your back is flush against his chest. This time he keeps his thrusts nice and slow. He places a kiss to the side of your neck. “Yeah? Want me to fill that pussy up, huh? To claim you as mine?”

You let a whimper escape your lips and you grip onto his arm that’s holding you against him as he starts picking up the pace of his thrusts. You clench around him again. “I am yours, Andy.”

He quickly moves his right hand down and starts circling your clit. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re gonna make me cum. Cum with me, please.”

You start pushing back and meeting his thrusts, desperate to get him to his release.

It only takes a few more snaps of his hips and circles against your clit before you're both falling over the edge while moaning out the other's name.

He continues pumping his hips until he’s completely spent and gently moves to lay the both of you onto your sides, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms.

He slowly pulls out of you and turns you around so that you’re facing him. He tucks your now loose hair behind your ear. “Hi, there.”

You chuckle and move up against him and press your face into the crook of his neck. “Hello.” You place a gentle kiss to his pulse point and relax as he wraps his arms around you.

There’s only a few minutes of peaceful silence when:

“So, was that good for you?”

You pull away and look up at him with an incredulous look on your face and smack his shoulder. You both start laughing.

“Of course it was good for me. Did you enjoy yourself, Andrew?”

He pulls you in for another sweet kiss. “Oh, yeah. But you know. Just to be sure. We might need to do it again.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. It only makes you laugh once more.

“You are such a dork. How about we get a shower and then heat up the food you so rudely interrupted me from eating before?”

His jaw drops in mock hurt. “You weren’t complaining when I was making you come around my cock, pretty girl.”

You sit up and stretch your arms over your head. You swing your legs over the side and stand up, wobbling just a little. You hear a chuckle behind you and playfully send a glare his way as you make your way to the bathroom.

You turn on the light and can’t help but look at your reflection in the mirror.

Your hair is a hot mess, having fallen out of it’s ponytail. Your lips were swollen and red from all the kissing. Your nipples looked slightly red from all pinching they had been subjected to. Your skin flushed from the orgasms. And there was what looked like a bruise forming on your hip in the shape of his hand.

And yet. You’ve never felt more beautiful.

You see Andy walking up behind you in the mirror. He smiles at you.

You turn around and return it before throwing your arms around his neck and raising yourself up on your toes to pull him in for a kiss. He gladly wraps his arms around you and reciprocates.

You pull away with a smile still attached to your face. “Not that I mind, pretty girl. But, what was that for?”

You shrug. “Just thank you. For making me feel beautiful.”

He smiles down at you and pulls you in for another quick kiss. You can feel him hardening once again against your hip. “Why don’t we skip the shower for now? I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

And with that he pulls you back into the bedroom where he spends the rest of the night showing you that you’re his kind of beautiful.

Permanent Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @IIIoIs 

[batmayne]

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 “𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘” 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 - fluff alphabet by @snk-warriors

featured song: Hide by Juice Wrld and Seezyn

warnings: small mentions of angst

authors note: this was written before tfatws (aka before I knew bucky’s personality) so I apologize for any inconsistencies and or if he’s ooc.

𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 - what do they like to do with their significant other? how do they spend their free time with them?

Since Bucky’s only available time to spend with you would most likely just be time he had off in between missions (unless you were an avenger yourself), most of your time spent together would be spent relaxing. If you do happen to not be an Avenger or maybe live out of New York (kind of like Laura Barton) he would more inclined to spend time at your house instead of his own. You are his solace away from all of the peril and endangerment that comes with his everyday occupation from saving the world from various threats - anytime spent with you is enough to make him happy. Activities wise I believe that he would enjoy simple things like taking your dog for a walk in the park, visiting a local museum or even just going to a family owned diner to grab milkshakes. Time not spent out would most likely be spent indoors reading or watching movies.

𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 - what do they admire about their significant other? what do they think is beautiful about them?

I can’t imagine that things like appearance, weight and height mean a whole lot to him, your personality is what really drew him in. He was initially attracted to your kindness and patience, because just befriending someone with the amount of baggage that his past holds is no easy feat. Unlike others, you didn’t treat him like a monster because of what HYDRA had forced him to do for the past 70 years of brainwashing. He admires you for taking the time to understand him when no one else did, especially after Steve went back in time to be with Peggy. He and Sam had become close of course but it couldn’t compare to what he had with you.

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 - how would they help their significant other when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He knows all to well what it means it be “feeling down” or having troubles mentally so he would be very understanding about it. If you a working or have some sort of occupation he would encourage you to probably take some time off to recover and if he was able he would take a break as well so you wouldn’t be alone. If it was more serious he would want you to go get help, because that is what you have done for him in the past.

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 - how do they picture their future with their significant other?

As mentioned earlier, I think that seeing what happened to Steve after he decided to spend his life with Peggy and have children of his own really would have struck a chord with him. Once he came out of HYDRA’s possession I think he may have thought that a chance at having a different life with a significant other and even children would be near impossible - but after he met you he was willing to give that fantasy a second try. I think he would be over the moon with eventually marrying you when things calm down some (he wouldn’t want to put you in danger if some enemy was targeting him) and having a child or two (if you wanted). Overall I think he just just craves for a simple and peaceful life with you, without having to worry about the dangers of his job or the outside world.

𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋 - are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?

The both of you are definitely equals in this relationship, in every aspect. I have to mention though, some of that 40’s gentleman may come out at times where he likes to hold the door open for you or help you out of the car. But he would only do this if you were comfortable with it of course, if it bothered you or got on your nerves in any way he would definitely stop - no questions asked.

𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 - would they be easy to forgive their significant other? how are they fighting?

There may be more arguments in the beginning of the relationship because he hasn’t been in one in so long, and the majority of them center around either him not wanting to hurt you on accident (I imagine that he is still uncomfortable with his arm) or pushing you away. Eventually after he gets more comfortable around you the fights will lessen, but when they do occur you just give eachother plenty of space before reconciling and trying to work things out. One thing he will not do is leave for a mission without making up with you - if something happened and your relationship was left on a bad note he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 - how grateful are they in general? are they aware of what their significant other is doing for them?

Bucky is beyond grateful that you are with him and he would reassure you about it constantly. Befriending him alone is a huge task in itself, not everyone has the patience to even do something as simple as that. Taking the time to get to know and understand why he is the way he is without judging him for it is something that he will be forever greatfull for.

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐘 - do they hide secrets from their significant other? or do they share everything?

As much as he would want to shelter his ominous and dark past from you he knew that wouldn’t be possible with him being a wanted criminal several years ago - he wasn’t exactly famous be he was definitely well known (unfortunately not for the better parts of his life). It would take him some time for him to open up about everything he has gone through, but after some time he will open up about it. It’s nothing against you personally, he just fears that once you know everything you’ll run away from him (which wou wouldn’t of course). He just needs some time.

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - did their significant other change them somehow or the other way around? like trying out new things or helped them overcome problems?

Your relationship has had quite the positive effect on him since the start, and it’s something that his friends would immediately take notice of. Of course you couldn’t solve and help with everything that HYDRA has put him through, but just having you around has done tremendous things for his mood. When Sam notices that he hasn’t said “I hate you” to him in the past week, he knew that something was up.

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 - do they get jealous easily? how do they deal with it?

I think Bucky would be more protective than jealous, but not in a creepy or possessive sense if you get what I am saying? He wouldn’t mind if you spent a lot of time hanging out with friends or anything like that, but if he feels like someone is making you uncomfortable he wouldn’t hesitate to place a reassuring hand around your waist so they’ll back off.

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 - are they a good kisser? how was their first kiss? and 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 - how did they confess to their significant other?

He isn’t particular with his kisses in my opinion, as long as they aren’t too sloppy and there aren’t many people around (I’ll discuss this more in the PDA section). I head canon that he really likes giving and receiving cheek and forehead kisses - but he will repeatedly deny it if you mention it to anyone else. (Your first kiss and love confession happened at the same time so I wrote a little Drabble about it below eugh)

Your first kiss took place when you were bordering the fine line between friends and something more. Bucky was taking some time off after a particularly rough mission and you gave him a place to stay away from all of the action. Finding him outside relaxing on a bench not too far from your house/apartment, you joined him and sat in a peaceful silence for a few minutes.

“Hey [Your Name]?” He spoke tentatively, distracting you from picking at the fraying end of your shorts.

“What’s up?” You questioned in turn, raising an eyebrow. Your breath hitched when you felt the coolness of his metal hand gently grab one of yours, and his human one placed itself on top.

“I just want to say thank you.”

“Bucky, you know you’re welcome to stay here anytime you need to-“

“That’s not what I meant.” He cut you off immediately, his voice wavering slightly. “I mean thank you, for accepting me, and not judging me for my past.”

“Of course.” You chirped back, maybe a little too fast.

It sounds cheesy but it did feel as if something was drawing your faces closer, and you eventually placed your free hand on his cheek as if saying a silent “yes”. When his lips finally pressed upon your own you felt an eruption of butterflies fly around your stomach, especially after you felt his arm glide around to your back. Once he pulled away it was hard to keep the smiles plastered off of both of your faces.

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄 - do they want to get married? how would they propose to their significant other?

Marriage wasn’t one of the things he thought that he would be able to enjoy when he was rescued from HYDRA, but I believe after he began his relationship with you he would most likely change his mind. Within the first few months of dating he already knows that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you so why not go ahead and tie the knot? He’d probably wait around a year to ensure that you felt the same before popping the question. I don’t get the “proposing in front of a large crowd of people vibe” from him so I’d probably say he would propose at an at home dinner where it was just the two of you. Most likely on a holiday such as Valentine’s Day or someday that was meaningful for the both of you (like the day you met or when you officially started dating).

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 - what do they call their significant other?

Other than your name, Dollface or Doll.

𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 - what are they like in love? is it obvious to others? How do they express their feelings?

Now, I wouldn’t necessarily call him a simp - because that would be disrespectful, but. Other than being reunited with his childhood best friend Steve, you are the best thing that has happened to him. Of course you couldn’t possibly solve all of his problems and erase everything horrible that has happened to him but you sure do help a lot. Sam notices that he is in noticeably brighter spirits and he is also experiencing less nightmares. When a particular mission gets rough or difficult the only thing keeping him going is knowing that you are at home waiting for him.

𝐏𝐃𝐀 - are they upfront about their relationship? do they brag with their significant other in front of others? or are they shy to kiss etc. with other people around?

Similar to Steve, I reckon that he wouldn’t be comfortable with public displays of affection because of the era he was raised in, where it was more frowned upon. Another thing to remember is that even though his name has been cleared he was a wanted criminal for quite some time, so I imagine he is already somewhat self conscious about being in public already. Additionally, the nature of his job caused him to already be a wanted target for many dangerous people, and he wants to keep you away from that by keeping you a secret from the public. This isn’t to say that he would be opposed to hand holding or subtle things such as that, just nothing that what be too attention grabbing from other people.

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐑𝐊 - what random ability do they have that’s beneficial in the relationship?

As kind as he is once you get to know him personally - there is no denying that he can be quite intimidating, even without the vibranium arm. Though not intentional. Being with him is like having your own personal bodyguard around you at all times. Normally, you wouldn’t even have to worry about the potential unwanted admirer because his presence would scare them off before they even attempted to say anything.

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 - how romantic are they? What would they do to make their significant other happy?

I cannot emphasize this enough, he is the perfect gentleman. Since he is unfortunately gone so often (saving the world and all), I theorize that his love language might be Recieving Gifts. They may not be extravagant or expensive but they’re things he thought you would like from the various locations that he’s visitied for missions. As far as making you happy he’ll do just about anything (within reason of course). Take watching movies for example, there may be a particular genre or type of film he isn’t interested in, but if you want to watch it he’ll oblige because he knows you would do the same for him. Another thing is when he is at home and not busy with missions, he ensures that all of his free time is spent with you.

𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 - are they helping their significant other achieve their goals? do they believe in them?

He may not right off understand everything you want to achieve and why, but he would certainly do everything he can to help you achieve in them. Like I said, he might not actually understand entirely all of your goals, but he will be supportive regardless.

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋 - do they need to try out new things to spice out their relationship? or do they prefer a specific routine?

Having been basically shut out from the world for the past 70 years, there is a plethora of things that Bucky has not seen yet or tried. Each date you have could mean trying something new, so things rarely ever get boring for with of you. While he doesn’t mind keeping a routine like getting dinner every Friday, its nearly impossible with what he does for a living.

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 - how much do they know their partner? are they empathetic?

As you do with him, he knows you like the back of his hand. Even though he may not have known you throughout your entire life, I would say knows you on a closer level than most of your friends and relatives (which the exception of your parents and closest friends depending on your on your relationship with them). As stated earlier, he might not understand everything that you might go through but he will surely be empathetic to all of your struggles - as you are with his own.

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐄 - how important is the relationship to them? what is it’s in it’s comparison to their things in their life?

Your relationship is by far the best thing that has ever happened to him so if something were to happen to it he would certainly be broken up over it, as would you. A lot of your relationship was founded on helping eachother through difficult times going on in both of your lives so the relationship ending would be quite problematic for the both of you. In comparison to other things that are in his life you are most definitely at the very top of that list.

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 - a random fluff head canon.

He refuses to let you tie your own shoes when they come loose. It was a subtle thing you noticed even at the beginning of your friendship. One of your laces would come untied and he’d keep insisting that you tie them so you wouldn’t fall and get hurt - until he eventually would just do it himself. It was a subtle gesture but still enough to make you swoon a bit at the kindness of it.

𝐗𝐎𝐗𝐎 - are they affectionate? do they love to kiss and cuddle?

He is indeed affectionate, as long as you are alone and no other people are around. Having said this I feel like having a significant other who is constantly cuddling him might make him uncomfortable, so someone more low key and less touchy would be his vibe. Bucky has spent a lot of his life alone and in isolation, so it would definitely be something that he would get used to at the beginning of your relationship. This doesn’t mean he wont cuddle at all though, he just may not be into it as much as others.

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 - how will they cope when they are missing their partner?

An unfortunate side effect of dating a superhero is that they’ll be away on missions quite often - you and Bucky’s relationship was no stranger to that. I’d imagine that he would attempt to call and text as much as he could, but of course the majority of the time he would be unavailable. To cope with missing you, he would probably end up talking about it to Sam after a lot of coaxing. While it would indeed help some, what actually kept him going was as I said earlier: knowing that you were at home safe and waiting for him to get back.

𝐙𝐄𝐀𝐋 - what lengths are they will to go for the relationship? if so what kind of lengths?

As I have stated numerous times your relationship is what keeps him going everyday, it’s what wakes him up in the morning. You are the single most important person in his life and always will be. He would do anything within his power to ensure your safety (within the parameters of reason of course). But in general he would do about anything for your relationship.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Not So Serious

Prompt: ayoooo I’m like-obsessed with your writing style omg if your requests are open I’d love to see some good good logince hurt/comfort where Roman has a crush on Logan and gets this idea that he’s not serious enough for Logan to like him at all so Roman completely changes himself only for Logan to wonder where the man he’s in love with went.

Thanks for the prompt, babe!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: logince, as on the tin

Warnings: roman’s a little bit of a self-doubting and self-depricating boi but other than that none! we are happy now!

Word Count:  5340

Roman knows he’s the least important of the Light Sides. Or at the very least, the one that Thomas listens to the least.

 That’s okay.

 It’s not, not really, but that doesn’t matter.

What does matter is that most of it can be chalked up to the fact that he’s the least serious Side. He’s the dreamer, the fanatic, the one whose head is permanently in the clouds. He sings, he dances, he acts, he plays. And that’s his job! He’s Creativity, for Shakespeare’s sake, and if he’s not, well, what good is he?

 Well, he’s not much good when he is Creativity, but that’s beside the point.

 But Thomas needs him to be serious. Patton, for all his lightheartedness, knows how to be serious when the time calls for it. And behind all those jokes and smiles and corny lines that make all of them want to cringe a little, he’s talking about, arguably, the most serious thing there is. What’s right and what’s wrong. No matter how you slice it, that’s serious. And he’s Thomas’s heart! How can you not take that seriously?

 Then there’s Virgil, who Roman considers a Light Side. Virgil demands to be taken seriously. Not verbally, but come on, he’s Anxiety. Mental stuff is no joke, and they’ve had enough close calls to know that for sure. Virgil’s a snarky bastard, but he rarely says something he doesn’t actually mean. He keeps them safe when none of the others know what to do and honestly? That’s serious stuff. Virgil’s got enough on his plate.

 Then there’s Logan.

  Logan.

 Roman could go on for days about Logan. He won’t, but he could.

 Logan is Logic. Perhaps more than anything else, Thomas needs Logic. And Logan. Logan is always present, whether he’s there physically or not, and his voice is always going to be heard in the conversation sooner or later. He breaks down the biggest problems Roman’s ever seen until they’re manageable chunks, so much so that it’s ridiculous that they were ever big in the first place. He talks them through everything, slowly and surely. He makes everything look easy.

 And that’s all the more impressive because Roman knows it’s not.

 It’s not easy to do what Logan does. It’s not easy for Logan to always make himself heard. It’s not easy to carry the single brain cell in any given conversation.

 But he does and it’s wonderful.

 Logan is serious. His job is serious. That doesn’t mean he’s serious all the time, no, Roman’s seen him snap a quip faster than anything with a smirk on his face, and their bond over Crofter’s is legendary. And he knows the gleam that means Logan is immensely satisfied with whatever insult he’s come up with to shut Roman down. Even through the hurt of a new bruise forming on Thomas’s ego, he has to smile because it’s so satisfying to watch someone just be very good at something.

 He’s also incredible at calming them all down. He’s so sweet and kind and gentle in all the right ways and you will never convince Roman that Logan knows nothing about emotions. Come on, he’s the most intelligent Side, that extends to emotional intelligence too. The amount of times he’s been able to rip them out of some horrible spiral with just a simple touch or a word is too high for Roman to count. And he never asks for anything, he just does it. Because he’s good like that.

 Roman would be an utter, utter fool if he didn’t take Logan seriously. He doesn’t dare underestimate him, never again, not after that rap battle. He doesn’t try to speak over him, not once everyone’s actually paying attention and Logan’s clearly trying to say something. He listens, he tries, he takes him seriously.

 But sometimes Logan needs to not be serious! He can see when the strain gets a little too much and he needs to cut someone down to size.

 Well, here’s Roman!

 And yes, it’s worth it. It’s always worth it. Logan smiles and it’s like the sun comes out. Yes, that’s a cliché but we all know clichés are cliché for a reason. Logan smiles, the sun comes out, and Roman wants to bathe in it. Wants to sit and listen to Logan talk about anything just so he’ll keep smiling, keep talking, keep being Logan. Logan is serious, but serious isn’t always Logan.

 Isn’t always.

 Most of the time, though…

 Most of the time, it looks like Logan is thrilled to not have to stand next to Roman.

 Most of the time, it seems like every time Roman opens his mouth, Logan’s trying not to roll his eyes or is just listening out of politeness. And every time he pitches an idea, it seems like Logan’s getting just as much enjoyment out of leaving the meetings as he does when he doesn’t find anything wrong with it.

 Most of the time, that 0.5% hangs in the air between them like a moat.

 Roman doesn’t want that. Roman doesn’t want Logan to view him as a diametrically opposed foe, he doesn’t want to be Logan’s other side of the coin, he doesn’t want Logan to think he’s only worth 0.5% of a day.

 But 0.5% is all he gets if he stays Roman.

 It’s not big changes, nothing that would compromise Thomas, but they’re noticeable. At least he hopes so.

 He stops singing out loud in the common areas and instead has a headphone in when he wants to listen to something. He reads in the chair—sitting properly, not with his limbs haphazardly thrown about like he’s a newly made life form with no idea how muscles work—and keeps his comments to himself, written down in a notebook or in his head. He asks politely if Logan wants to come on a walk through the Imagination and conjures up something simple. A forest path, or a garden, or a small town road. None of the fantastical woods, magic castles, or treacherous mountains that he’s so fond of, because those are daydreams.

 He’s quieter outside of videos. Sure, he’s still as obnoxious as ever when the cameras are on, but they tend to exaggerate themselves when they’re being filmed anyway. So it won’t be too much of a surprise when he’s not like that when the cameras are off. He doesn’t speak as much—well, he doesn’t monologue as much. He speaks when spoken to, he’s as courteous as he knows how to be, and he tries to be serious. Even if his job is anything but.

 He could tell you it’s exhausting what he does for the videos and he’d rather not do it when he doesn’t have to.

 He could tell you it’s because it would be better for Thomas if they all got along well. 

 He could tell you it’s because he wants a healthier and more productive working relationship with Logan.

 He could tell you all of these things.

 Whether or not you believe him is up to you.

 …because Roman might be the actor, but he’s never been a particularly good liar. And deep down—not that deep down—we all know why he wants to be more serious, don’t we?

 Logan doesn’t like fantasy. Logan doesn’t like excessive noise. Logan doesn’t like someone who can’t be serious.

 Logan is kind and perfect and wonderful and smart and so many things.

 And above all, Logan is serious.

 Roman can work with that.

———————————————————————

“Hey, Specs! Do you have time to brainstorm?”

 “It will have to be quick, Roman, I’ve not much time to spare.”

 “Oh. That’s alright, then, we can do it later.”

 “Are you certain?”

 “Of course! I know how important your schedule is for you, please, don’t worry about it.”

 “Ah. I see. Well, thank you, Roman.”

 They never do end up having that brainstorm. Not alone.

 “Logan?”

 “Yes, Roman?”

 “Would it be alright if I played music? I’ll keep it low.”

 “…we can try, though I usually prefer working in silence.”

 “Oh, in that case, I’ll just go—“

 “Let’s try?”

 “If you’re sure.”

 Roman ends up getting his headphones after a few minutes.

 “Roman?”

 “Yes, my d—Logan?”

 “…were you going to say something else?”

 “No, no, I got lost in my head again, I thought you were…someone else.”

 “It may be worth practicing getting out of your head, Roman.”

 “I know.”

 He never quite manages, but he’s trying.

 “Ro—oh.”

 “Logan? Is something wrong?”

 “You’ve changed your room. Your…your paintings, your drawings, they’re…where did you put them?”

 “Oh, I got rid of them.”

 “Got rid of them?”

 “Yes. Surely you know how difficult it can be to work in a crowded space?”

 “…yes, I suppose I do.”

 Logan doesn’t comment on the fact that Roman’s room isn’t quite so red anymore either.

 “Roman?”

 “Yes?”

 “This idea, it seems…quite…realistic.”

 “Is that not the point, Sp—Logan?”

 “Well, yes, I suppose so.”

 “Besides, from a practical standpoint, we’re operating with a limited budget here. The scope of the videos has to be adjusted accordingly.”

 “Yes, I suppose you’re correct.”

 Logan doesn’t mention that it doesn’t necessarily feel like Roman’s idea.

 “Roman?”

 “Yes?”

 “Care to comment?”

 “Oh, no, I’m perfectly content.”

 “Are you certain?”

 “Of course.”

 Logan doesn’t ask again.

———————————————————————

Logan is really confused.

 Something’s wrong with Roman, that much is obvious, but he can’t figure out what. Roman’s been quiet lately, outside of the videos, but even in the videos, he’s been different. He’s not talking as much anymore, not going on his incredibly passionate rants that one can feel if they just listen hard enough. He’s not risen to the bait for weeks now, preferring instead to…talk. Or listen. His room is suspiciously absent of his paintings and drawings that make Logan want to sit and stare and lose track of time.

 And he’s stopped singing.

 That’s a definite indicator that something’s wrong.

 But he can’t figure out what.

 None of them are fighting; Patton and Virgil have noticed that something is different, certainly, but they don’t know—they can’t figure out exactly what. They would have told him if they had a disagreement with Roman, but they haven’t.

 Thomas isn’t being affected by it. In fact, he hasn’t noticed that anything’s wrong.

 And on the surface, Roman seems fine, but Logan knows better.

 He stops in front of his whiteboard, staring hard at the pieces of information he has written down.

  Roman is no longer singing or playing music out loud outside of his room.

Roman is changing the ideas that he brings to the brainstorming sessions. He claims they are meant to be more ‘practical’ and easier to budget.

Roman does not insist that we spend time with him anymore.

Roman is quiet and no longer engages in ‘banter’ exchanges with me.

Roman no longer brings me to the elaborate places in the Imagination.

Roman no longer gives me nicknames.

 Has…has Logan done something to Roman?

 He doesn’t think he has. He hasn’t—he hasn’t shot down any ideas lately, and certainly none so much as to trigger such a drastic change. There have been no arguments. There have been no big changes for Thomas.

 He finds himself twisting the cap of the marker back and forth as he focuses on the period at the end of the last sentence written. Perhaps…perhaps Roman is simply going through a rough patch? Occasionally the prince will lapse into a ‘grayer’ state, for lack of a better term, where he exhibits fewer of his energetic tendencies, but none have gone on for such a duration. Additionally, his behavior in videos has not altered as significantly as would indicate this as the cause.

  Perhaps I should try to talk to him about it.

 Logan nods sharply to himself and turns, walking out of his room toward Roman’s. The red door looms there, slightly ajar. Frowning, Logan raps on it gently with his knuckles.

 “Roman? May I come in?”

 No response.

 “Roman?” Logan eases the door open. “Roman?”

 No sign of Roman. The bathroom door isn’t locked, his laptop isn’t open, his phone is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps Roman simply forgot to close his door all the way. Logan shuts it carefully and turns to head downstairs.

 “Virgil? Patton?”

 Virgil glances up from his phone. “What’s up, L?”

 Ignoring the little flutter in his chest at the first nickname he’s been called in a while, Logan adjusts his glasses and glances around. “Have you seen Roman?”

 Virgil shakes his head. “Pat? Have you?”

 “I think he said he was going into the Imagination but he’d be back for dinner?”

 Logan nods. “Thank you both.”

 “Logan?”

 “Yes?”

 “Can you, uh—“ Patton wrings his hands for a moment— “can you ask him what’s wrong for us?”

 “Princey’s been off for a while, we wanna know why but he won’t tell us.”

 Logan blinks. “Considering I was on my way to ask him the same thing, I take it he’s been as…hesitant to share any information with you as he has with me?”

 Their nods make something twist in his chest.

 “If he’s gonna tell anyone,” Virgil mutters as he turns to go, “it’ll be you.”

 Logan pauses. “Excuse me?”

 Virgil shrugs. “You’re his favorite, L. He thinks the sun shines outta your face.”

 Despite himself, Logan feels heat rush to his cheeks. “I’m quite sure you’re confusing me for Patton, Virgil.”

 “Oh, no, Princey’s got it bad f—“

 “Virgil!”

 “Oh come on,” Virgil groans, his head lolling on the couch as he turns to look at Patton, “you’ve noticed it too.”

 “But that’s not our secret to tell!”

 “Shit. Yeah, you’re right. Oops.”

 “Wait, wait,” Logan stammers, quickly trying to get a grasp of the situation, “you—Roman what?”

 Virgil shakes his head. “Nope. Sorry, Logan. I already fucked up. You’re gonna have to ask him. And hey, you were on your way to do just that!”

 Logan narrows his eyes but Virgil shrugs, undaunted. He turns and pointedly does not run up the stairs.

 The door to the Imagination is ajar. He takes a deep breath and pushes it open, expecting to meet some fantastical landscape, a village, or a castle, perhaps.

 He doesn’t expect to wander into what looks like the grand foyer of some Victorian mansion.

 The door shuts behind him with a thud that echoes gently around the room. His shoes aren’t particularly loud but his steps make resounding clicks as he walks through the halls. The walls are elegantly crafted, with artful splashes of color here and there. He comes to a grand staircase and has to swallow heavily at the richness of the wood under his fingers as he climbs slowly, slowly up.

 There’s something here, he decides, that’s not been here for a while. Not since he started accompanying Roman more often. He remembers the first time, where he’d wearily said he didn’t have the patience for an adventure and had been pleasantly surprised by Roman’s offer of a simple walk. Each walk after that had been lovely, truly, but it was always painfully obvious that it was in the Imagination.

 Now, though? Now the walls seem to curve about Logan as he walks, like petals of a flower curve about its center. The house seems to hold him, cradle him almost as he walks slowly through it. He can almost feel a gentle hand at the base of his spine, between his shoulder blades, under his chin. It takes no effort to keep walking, to discover more and more of this truly beautiful house, to look and look and look without fear of his eyes hurting or his head growing weary.

 It feels like Roman, he realizes with a giddy bubble in his chest, this is Roman’s work. Roman is here.

 That realization gives him enough courage to call out.

 “Roman? Roman, are you here?”

 “Logan?”

 “Roman!” He turns around, trying to trace the echoes to their source. “Where are you?”

 “I’m in the library, keep walking toward the back of the hall.”

 Logan’s steps beat out an eager pace as he begins to hurry towards Roman’s voice. He meets a wide set of mahogany doors and pushes them open, looking for—

 “Oh,” he murmurs as the doors swing wide, “oh, this is…magnificent.”

 If he were—well, if he were Roman, he’d compare this to the library the Beast gifts Belle. The shelves tower over his head, two full floors of books stretching out almost as far as he can see. As he looks closer, he realizes this is a theatre, with the seats replaced with shelves. At the back of the library stands the stage, converted into a seating area with as many plush couches and overstuffed armchairs as one could ever want. Curtains drape themselves across a vast window, golden sunlight streaming inside. And on the window seat, standing as the doors fly open, is Roman.

 “Roman, my goodness—“

 “Whoa, easy, Logan,” Roman chuckles, catching Logan carefully by the elbows as he rushes through the library, “you’ll knock yourself over at this rate.”

 “This is magnificent,” Logan manages, still looking around in awe—goodness, there are some books here that he’s only seen in passing— “how—how did you do this?”

 “I’ve always had it,” Roman says, guiding him to sit on the window seat and crouching in front of him, “it’s my library.”

 “This—this is yours?”

 Half of Roman’s mouth tugs up into that crooked smile. “Yeah, Logan. This is mine. You didn’t think I just let my books lie around, did you?”

 “But you—you—you’ve never shown this to me. To anyone.”

 The smile falters. “Well, no.”

 Logan takes a moment to actually look at Roman. Roman quirks his eyebrow as he notices the questioning gaze. His costume is a little less pristine than normal. There’s something slightly different about his expression. And his sword is nowhere to be seen.

 “May I—can I ask why not?”

 Roman smiles ruefully, glancing over Logan’s shoulder before dropping his gaze to the ground.

 “When I need to think,” he says after a moment, “or just…sit for a little, I come here.”

 He rests his hand on the seat next to Logan.

 “I sit right here, and I think. I look outside into the garden. I watch the clouds. Or I stare at the shelves, and think about the books.”

 He gestures behind him.

 “Sometimes I’ll see people bustling through them, or characters diving in between pages.” The smile becomes a touch more wistful. “Or I’ll hear water rushing, or wind howling.”

 He looks back. Logan’s mouth drops open at the openness of Roman’s expression.

 “But mostly,” he finishes in a near whisper, “I just sit. And think. Because I can.”

 “…this is your space,” Logan mumbles as he puts it together, “that’s…that’s why you haven’t shown anyone.”

 Roman nods.

 Logan should apologize. He should apologize and leave. He should never have expected that this would be alright.

 But the thought of leaving this library, this house, Roman feels…so, so heavy.

 “It’s alright, Logan,” Roman says patiently, sitting on the floor, “what did you need? Am I late for dinner?”

 He shakes himself, sternly reminding his brain that he’s being rude now. “No, no, nothing of the sort, I simply needed to find you.”

 Roman spreads his arms wide. “Well, you found me. Congratulations.”

 It’s so close to the banter Logan misses that he finds himself smiling. “Thank you. Shall I assume to claim my prize now, then?”

 “Mm, and what prize would that be?”

 Roman blinks up at him expectantly when he doesn’t answer right away. There are several questions on the tip of his tongue and they war with each other.

  What’s wrong?

Are you alright?

  Did something happen?

  The others and I have noticed changes in your behavior, could you explain them?

  Did I do something wrong?

  Can I stay here?

  What did Virgil almost tell me?

 “I’ve lost something,” Logan blurts instead, swallowing the lump in his throat when Roman blinks again, startled, “and I need you to help me find it.”

 “Oh. Well, that should be easy enough. Where did you last see it?”

 “Wait!”

 Logan catches a startled Roman by his sleeve as he’s in the middle of getting up. He sits back down slowly, still staring at Logan.

 “I don’t know where I lost it,” he says, because it’s the truth. Even for all his immaculate time-keeping, he can’t pinpoint the moment he lost Roman.

 “That does make it more difficult,” Roman muses, tapping his fingers on his chin, “well, can you tell me what it is? Maybe I’ve seen it.”

  I’m sure you have.

 Logan takes a deep breath.

 “I didn’t realize it was gone, at first,” he begins, “only that it—something changed. It was quieter. Rooms felt less…I believe ‘alive’ is the only word I can use to adequately describe it.”

 Roman catches on to the fact he’s speaking about something abstract quickly. Though, of course he did, he’s very intelligent. He sits up a little straighter and takes Logan’s hand in both of his. That in itself is enough to make Logan swallow again.

 “It was more difficult to continue working,” he says after a moment, looking at the ground, “because I didn’t know what was missing. I didn’t know whether the fault lay with myself or with Thomas or how to go about fixing it. I couldn’t think of anything.”

 Roman makes a noise of sympathy, squeezing Logan’s hand.

 “Of course, once I realized it was missing, I did all I could to find it.” He adjusts his glasses. “I gathered all the information I could to see what had gone wrong.”

 “And,” Roman prompts gently, “what did you find?”

 “It’s not in my room. It’s not in the kitchen. It’s not in the Imagination, or at least it wasn’t when I was there.”

 Logan closes his eyes.

 “It doesn’t make me fight back a smile every time I see it, because I am only concerned. It doesn’t make me look forward to seeing it, because it doesn’t seem to be happy to see me. It doesn’t make me want to say how important it is to me, because it doesn’t—“

 “…doesn’t what, Logan?”

 “…it doesn’t even give me a nickname anymore.”

 Roman freezes.

 Logan opens his eyes and looks at Roman, seeing his face turn pale.

 “I’ve lost the one I love,” he confesses, “and I don’t know where he’s gone.”

———————————————————————

Roman’s heart stops.

 Logan—Logan—L—

 Logan loves him?

 Logan loves him?

 “Please,” Logan says in that soft, soft voice that makes Roman want to combust, “can you help me find him?”

 “Wait, wait, Logan, you—you what?”

 Logan shifts forward, cupping Roman’s hand. “Where did you go, Roman? Something happened, you left.”

 “N-no, Logan, I didn’t go anywhere.”

 “You did,” he corrects, “you…you’ve been different. You’ve been quieter, you haven’t taken me on any adventures—“

 “I’ve taken you into the Imagination!”

 “—and you stopped singing,” Logan finishes. Roman’s chest throbs with the way Logan’s voice cracks on the last word. “You left, Roman, where did you go?”

 “I—I was trying to—to—“ Roman swallows heavily. “Wait, you love me?”

 Logan blinks, tilting his head. “Of course, yes, I love you, Roman.”

 Roman’s face flares. “You can’t—you can’t just say that, Logan.”

 “Why not?”

 “I’ll believe you. I’ll—“ the urge to bury his face in his hands burns but he can’t, can’t pull away from Logan—“I’ll believe you.”

 Logan hums. “And why shouldn’t you believe me?”

 An incredulous laugh forces its way out of his throat. “Because you can’t love me.”

 He slams his eyes shut as Logan starts to move away. He’s ruined it. He’s ruined so much of his hard work. He’s destroyed it. He’s hurt Logan. How could he?

 “And why can’t I love you, Roman?”

 He laughs again, though this one might be technically considered a sob. “Because I’m loud! I’m obnoxious, I want to spend all my time daydreaming, I’m so out of touch with the real world, I never want to be serious, I’m—I’m—“

 “Passionate,” Logan interrupts quietly, something still cupping his hand, “optimistic. Hardworking.”

 Roman huffs. “That’s not special.”

 “Intelligent.”

 Now he does laugh. “Not compared to you.”

 Logan’s stifled noise is enough to make him open his eyes. He frowns up at Logan. He looks…heartbroken.

 “Roman,” he murmurs, “do you honestly believe that?”

 He squirms uncomfortably on the floor. “…it’s not like it isn’t obvious. El principe es estupido.”

 “It’s far from obvious, Roman,” Logan insists, “why do you think I enjoy our verbal sparring so much?”

 “You what?”

 “I respect and admire your intelligence. You’re—well, not to insult the others when they’re not here to defend themselves, but you’re the only one who really keeps up with me.” Logan smiles at him. He smiles at him. “And you’re kind, Roman. Relentlessly so, sometimes.”

 Roman can only gape at him.

 “Don’t think I haven’t noticed everything you do,” Logan chides gently, “I do notice. And I am so thankful for it. But this…” He gives Roman’s hand another squeeze. “This I don’t understand. Where did you go, Roman?”

 “I—I…” Roman swallows. “I thought I was doing it for you.”

 “For me?”

 “Y-you like serious things! You don’t want to be seen as a joke and I’ve never seen you as a joke, Logan, you have to believe me, and I thought that—that I—“

 “Roman—“

 “I make fun of the things I love, Logan!” Roman’s throat almost aches from the strain of saying it out loud. “And you—you don’t like it when we’re not serious and I’m not serious so I—I thought if I—if—if—“

 “You changed so I would…love you?”

 Roman shakes his head shamefully. “So you would tolerate me.”

 “Oh, little star—“

 Roman lets out an oof as Logan tugs him forward, his knees hitting the ground roughly as he pulls Roman into a hug. He’s warm, he’s so warm and so Logan…the frames of his glasses are cool against the side of Roman’s face, the knot of his tie pressing into the hollow of his chest. And he’s being so sweet, so tender as he holds Roman on the floor of the library.

 Roman clutches him back. It’s been agony, not being able to touch him, not even the barest brush of shoulders or knocking their elbows together. But now Logan is here and he can have this.

 “I don’t want serious,” he hears Logan murmur, “not from you. Alright, sometimes, yes, I want you to listen but never to be that serious. You’re—you’re you, Roman. That’s what I want.”

 Oh.

  Oh.

 He laughs as the tears start to fall onto Logan’s collar. “You found me, Logan.”

 Logan just gives him a squeeze. “I did, little star.”

 Oh, Roman was not prepared for that. Instead, he can hear Logan chuckle as he tenses for a moment.

 “No?”

 “Yes,” Roman blurts out quickly, fumbling with his clumsy tongue, “yes. So much yes.”

 “Yes, it is then, little star.”

 He hums contentedly, burying his nose in the crook of Logan’s neck. “You found me,” he whispers, rocking them back and forth, “and I found you.”

 “Yes, little star, you found me.” Logan pulls back to cup his face, a comforting noise escaping him at the evidence of drying tears. “And now…please, don’t leave me?”

 “Never, Logan,” he swears, “never again.”

 He gets to see that wonderful soft glow on Logan’s face for a moment longer before that gleam—oh, that wonderful gleam—comes back as he arches an eyebrow.

 “No? Then why am I still ‘Logan?’”

 Oh. So that’s how this is going to go, hmm? Roman lets a little more darkness slip into his smirk than he normally would. It only grows wider as Logan looks a little surprised.

“My dearest darling nerd,” he purrs, “if you wanted me to lavish you with pet names, you know you need only ask.”

 “That is not what I meant,” Logan says firmly, undone a little by the blush now fanning his cheeks.

 Roman chuckles. “Oh, what’s wrong, my sweet little pi, is this not what you wanted?”

 “R-Roman!”

 “Goodness, Logan, your face is so warm.” Roman’s arms come up to hug him as he buries his face in his neck. “What, you can dish it out but you can’t take it?”

 “You’re one to talk,” comes the slightly muffled reply, “you were blushing from my pet name too.”

 “Ah, yes, how could I forget? ‘Little star,’ well…” Roman cups the back of Logan’s neck and brings that darling face back out to smile at. “If I’m the star, then you must be the whole galaxy.”

 Logan tries to frown. Bless him, he tries, but he’s so flustered that it turns into this adorable pout as he leans back to get up.

 “Oh, no, no, no,” Roman chuckles, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around him, “you stay right here in my lap.”

 “Roman!”

 “What?” He tilts his head. “Can you think of anywhere better to be than right here, in my lap…with me?”

 He can’t help the note of vulnerability that slips in at the end. Maybe Logan doesn’t want this, maybe he is too much, maybe he just ruined it…

 “No,” Logan murmurs after a moment, “I guess I can’t.”

 And really, it is marvelous, there on the floor, golden sunlight streaming over them, in the library, surrounded by the quiet shelves and safe hallways of the house.

———————————————————————

“I have to ask,” Roman says, giving Logan a little shake after a moment, “how did you…?”

 “Find out?”

 “Mm.”

 “Well…” Logan toys with Roman’s collar. “I was coming to ask you about it anyway, but Virgil—“

 “Virgil?” Roman raises an eyebrow. “He said something now, did he?”

 Logan squints at him. “…why do I have a feeling there’s more to this than you’re telling me?”

 Roman shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter, not really.”

 “Now that I don’t believe for an instant.”

 “It got me my Logan,” Roman says softly, leaning forward to rub their noses together, “didn’t it?”

 “…well yes, I suppose it did.”

 Roman hums contentedly, cuddling into Logan like a lazy cat, sprawled out in the sunlight to nuzzle its kitten. A…surprisingly sweet image. The Imagination—Roman’s Imagination must be affecting him.

 There are worse fates.

 “But I can’t imagine,” he says after a moment, “that a prince such as yourself can allow such a slight?”

 The grin on Roman’s face is priceless.

 “Virgil,” Roman sings as they fling open the door to the rest of the Mindscape, and goodness Logan can’t tell you how much he’s missed that voice— “I have a question for you!”

 Logan hears muffled cursing coming from the living room.

 “What’s up, Princey?”

 “Well our dearest Specs here just told me something very interesting—“ he winks at Logan— “and I would love to hear your side of the story.”

 “Oh, uh, really? Well, that’s cool. On an unrelated note, I’m gonna be in my room for the foreseeable future.”

 “Hmmm…not if I get there before you!”

 “Shit!”

 “My darling,” Roman says softly, pressing a kiss to the back of Logan’s hand, “will you excuse me one moment, please?”

 And what is Logan supposed to do but agree? Roman is back.

 “I’ll be with you shortly.”

 Roman tears off down the hallway after Virgil, their shouts filling the Mindscape once more.

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[oskarwing]

I really wanna talk about the parent child relationships in Midnight Mass

I’m not sure if I’m good at writing this sorta Meta but here goes nothing. Very many spoilers follow.

Let’s start with the adults: 

First we have Erin who suffered so much at the hands of her mother and later because of her mother’s abuse. We don’t get much detailed info on Peggy Greene but from what we can gather she was a lot like Beverly Keane, who seemed to idolize her (though that probably got easier for her after Peggy was gone), in her self-righteous over-pious manner. She just happened to be Beverly with an alcohol problem and a daughter who she could take all her anger at life for not working out her way for God loving her just the same as everybody else out. The dove scene is really such a good scene. But Erin was stronger than her mother, stronger than the abuse that was about to repeat itself and when she found out that she would have a child of her own she left and tried her best to give her kid a better life than the one she had. And she found the strength I think with the help of the same God her mother most likely used as legitimation for her abuse (don’t get me wrong I believe it was Erin’s own strength but she also clearly found something in religion that helped her gather it) and it helped her to carve out a path for herself and her unborn child.  

Sarah’s relationship to her parents is such an interesting one because we get to see the end of it. The man who she believed to be her father has been dead for a long while and her mother is suffering through the late stages of dementia. And Sarah showed up for it. As a doctor she most likely knew what would be happening as soon as Mildred started to show the first symptombs but she wasn’t going to leave her mother. That kind of care for an elderly parent shows something that is proven in Mildred’s character time and time again: She is a very devoted parent and the love between mother and daughter flows both ways in every scene they are in together, after the birth of her daughter her world turned around Sarah and she loved her with all she had. There are a few scenes that show that Mildred’s understanding of the duty she felt towards her family came from the old values of her time. She wouldn’t have taken off with John and their child not for a lack of love but because in those times, in catholism still at least where I’m from, you can’t just marry a priest. You can’t just have a child with a priest eventhough you’re married and then fuck off with him. As a woman, as a wife and mother you have to stand with your husband, stand with your child and you have to stop running after fantasies I’m sure Mildred had. I’m saying this all from her perspective btw, I don’t necessarily think running away with John, in the way he wished to, would have been good for Sarah but honesty might have been and her old fashioned values were also what kept her from being truly honest with her daughter.  To John on the other hand Sarah is a fantasy, a dream he couldn’t reach. His daughter, his baby, so close and yet so far away getting to watch her grow into an adult but never being able to really be her father as in her Dad instead of her priest. And it’s painful to him, he clearly loved Mildred, loved Sarah but he was also kinda selfish in his love that in the end took Sarah away. At first he isolated his child by starring at her giving her the creeps and the feeling that she had done something wrong that he knew she was gay and dissaproved and then he took it upon himself to ‘cure’ Mildred in the same way he was. Sarah wanted to take care of her mother wanted to be there for her in those final months and John decided it was up to him to give Mildred a youth potion to make it so she’d never die. And with that he took away from Sarah what is without doubt a hard but for many people a very important last part of the relationship between child and parent. John was a complicated man and would maybe have been a great Dad he certainly showed a lot of fatherly love for his altar boys but he couldn’t have the family in the way he fantasized about and in the end it was that fantasy that made him act the way he did.   

Riley Flynn causes his parents a lot of pain. Him killing that girl in the beginning, his alcoholism, him simply not liking the place, the home they build for themselves through hard work causes the Annie and Ed so much pain and financial loss and you can see how tired they are, how much guilt they feel for failing their son. Ed calls out his own guilt and says that he doesn’t belive it could be Annie’s fault because ‘your mother’s a saint’ but what I truly love about Annie and Ed Flynn is that they both aren’t saints. As a mother Annie is very much overprotective and suffocating, wanting to keep her children on crocket island and hating the notion that they might leave her, even though she is kind and sweet and loving. And while Ed seems rather checked out as a father but he is the more honest parent, never talking down to Riley and telling him as it is, telling him about the pain he caused him while also admitting to the guilt he feels. The Flynns are flawed people even in their religious practice (I think the way Annie speaks about Ali showing up at church when Hassan seemed to be nothing but nice to her spoke very loudly to the fact that Annie is rather misguided sometimes) but they are good people at the core of it and their parenting might have been part of Riley’s way into alcoholism but it wasn’t only them. There were things they couldn’t change and things they had no influence over like his heart being broken by Erin running away, the sort of people he went out on parties with and so many other things...  Yes, they may have shaped their son in a way that made him vulnerable to addiction and the party scene of the stock and tech market and brought him to the point where he killed a child but it doesn’t happen through parenting alone and they also shaped him in the good ways. Him not losing himself when Pruitt changes him, him being brave enough to warn Erin, him standing up for what he believes in those things were also shaped by Ed and Annie. They are one of the best example of flawed but good hearted Christians I have seen in recent media and their portrayal was one of the most heartbreaking ones. 

Now the kids: 

Let’s start with Leeza. Little Leeza Scarborough who before it comes to her wonder gets treated with pity and overprotectiveness from her parents and the island community at large. Leeza was injured by Joe Collie transforming him into the island’s villain and her into the ever present victim.  What happened to her is without a doubt horrible and I understand why Wade and Dolly started to become these overprotective parents, why they were so easily sucked in to John’s and Bev’s scheme. Their little girl was almost taken from them eventhough Wade is the mayor, one of the most powerful people on the island he had no influence over what happened to Leeza even was the one who took her out that day and what followed the accident was as we can gather from their conversation with Sarah a lot of pain and financial burden though they say they would have done it all over for Leeza. In fact a lot of places in crockett island are wheelchair accesible and I am sure that Wade as mayor made it so (I can’t really imagine that a small place like the island was very inclusive though I may be wrong).  After Leeza is healed they don’t want to question in don’t want to think about what might have been the cause for it. In fact they stop questioning anything after that point, after Leeza walks again they are completely vulnerable to Bev’s manipulation and them letting that happen, them just going along with everything, Wade protecting John after he kills Joe long after Leeza forgave him and with her forgiveness send Joe on a better path is what in the end makes them lose her. Because Leeza isn’t that little victim who needs pity and help, she is a strong minded, strong willed young woman with a lot of wit who similar to Erin finds strength in her faith but in a way that isn’t devotion without question and when the Easter vigil is held she doesn’t follow her parents eventhough she loves them deeply. She forgives them I think, because that’s what Leeza’s character is about in it’s core but her parents were two of the instigators behind what happened on the island, without Wade’s protection John and Bev couldn’t have come as far as they did and they put their trust in them because they loved their daughter so much they didn’t stop to question if maybe what made Leeza walk again was also a bad thing. 

Ali and Hassan don’t have it easy and I as a white person really can’t speak much on the racism and religious discrimination they face.  I can say this I think: The first line spoken about Ali before we even really get to look at him is “You didn’t invite Aladin” and already sets us up for what both of them know: They are the outsiders. Not only because they just moved to the island but also because in their faith they are different from their peers and religion can often be a community building event for people before it is anything else. Ali starts balming his father a little for that, for not trying to fit in more with the community, for moving after his mother’s death and then not trying to be closer to the people around them and for the pain all the pain the two of them went through before Crockett island. It isn’t oly peer pressure though of course that brings Ali to St Patrick’s. Sure, Ali wanted to be part of the community but also desperately wanted to believe that there was a devine power who could if he just did it (it meaning faith) the right way he might find a way to avoid the pain of his parents. Hassan knew that and he warned him that that wasn’t how it worked. Hassan was a protective Dad and maybe he overdid it from time to time but his worries were never without reason, his need to keep his son safe from a world that hated him for a crime that happened when he wasn’t even born yet never unfounded and him wanting to make sure his kid kept the memory of his mother alive never anything but the wish of a griefing man and loving father. In the end when they pray together there is peace in them. They face their ends with the dignity Ali’s mother would have wished for and they face it as father and son. While Beverly the true religious terrorist of the story burns away without it. 

Warren is the youngest Flynn and it is never directly stated yet omnipresent that his coming of age happens in the shadow of his older brother’s mistake.  Annie warns him away from drinking when he goes out he in fact doesn’t drink. He never drinks because of what his brother did.  Warren would have been 12 when Riley killed that girl and so he would have seen and felt what his brother’s actions did to his parents fully without being yet old enough to maybe see the nuance.  Annie and Ed probably try to right the wrong they believe to have done in parenting Riley with Warren and that’s a lot for a kid. I do think it’s pretty usual that parents of multiple children especially when there’s a larger age gap try to do better with the younger children, but that isn’t fair is it?  Warren is his own person not a second chance to do it over.  And yet seemingly he does what is asked of him. He’s alter boy, he’s charming and helpful and sweet, he doesn’t drink (even when he does smoke pot) and he helps his father where he can with his work.  But in the end he feels guilty because he thinks he wasn’t enough and says at that last dinner he would have been different if he had known he wouldn’t see his family again. But Leeza is right they know and they love him and Warren deserved to not be perfect all the time. 

Littlefoot saved Erin and Erin payed her back with all the love she had. She was never born but she gave her mother the strength and willpower to leave.  In her speech to Joe Leeza said he reached through time and took things from her she didn’t even know she had yet.When Erin left her husband she reached through time and saved Littlefoot from a childhood like hers and when John gave Erin the angel’s vampire’s blood he reached through time and took away her child, a child who would have been loved and cared for. A child with an amazing mother and probably a great step-dad.  Littlefoot’s story is tragic because she never got one.