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ddejavvu · 11 months

Note

ok but my favorite criminal minds specific trope is when the team needs someone to be bait and the unsub’s type is reader, would you pls write hotch just trying so hard not to lose his professionalism when the team realizes reader has to play bait??

There's a knock on your door, and you hope it's Emily. She'd know how to untangle this dress.

"Who is it?"

"Hotch," Comes the reply from behind the door, "Can I come in?"

"Uh-" You stammer, lunging for your tank top and throwing it over your head, "...Yeah!"

Once he gets the O-K from you he turns the knob, peering into the dimly lit locker room that you've been using to change. The outfit you'd been provided is a strappy ensemble, but the strings are intertwined with each other like stray yarn, and you don't know how you're ever going to get into the garment.

"I can't figure this out," You lament, holding the dress sheepishly between two fingers, "I think this is made for wizards or something."

Hotch chuckles, reaching for the dress, "Can I try?"

"Be my guest," You nod, turning to a mirror on the inside of one of the lockers and reaching for a comb, "I'll do my hair in the meantime.

Hotch absentmindedly fumbles with the dress while keeping an eye on your work, "Pigtails?"

"Well," You grimace, tugging one of the ponytails tighter on your scalp so that it sticks up and bounces with any movement of your head, "You know what they say about pigtails."

Hotch's face takes on a similar expression of discontentment, "Right."

While you pin some of your stray hairs in place, Hotch makes a breakthrough. The dress comes untangled, hanging between his fingers like it should have on the hanger.

"Oh my god!" You marvel, "Are you a wizard?"

"I was trying to keep it a secret," He plays along, offering you the garment, "But I guess the cat's out of the bag."

"Thank you," You gush, taking the dress from his hands, "I can't- oh."

The dress warps in your fingers. It hangs limp in your hands; apparently you'd grabbed the wrong strings.

"Uh- like," Hotch reaches for it, pulling a few straps up from where they're sagging, "That."

"Oh. Right." You grab the ones he's holding instead, hyperaware of his fingers brushing your own, "Can- um, is Emily here?"

"No, she's out at the second scene," Hotch hums.

"JJ?"

"Talking to the parents of vic #3."

"Hotch," You hum cautiously, "Could, um- could you help me get this on?"

He's still for a moment, nodding slowly after he processes your words.

"Yeah," He takes the dress back from you, letting you fumble with the zipper, "Here, I'll- I'll close my eyes."

"Thanks," You breathe, watching him lower his hands until the dress is close enough to your waist for you to step into it, "So just-"

"Yeah." He nods, letting his eyes slip shut as you take a deep breath. You take your tank top off first, then your bike shorts, and brace your hands on Aaron's to get your leg high enough to step into the dress. He doesn't open his eyes, but you can tell he wasn't expecting the touch.

"Sorry," You hum, far too close to his face as you shimmy your hips into the fabric. You try finding the sleeves, mindful of the straps, and his breath hits your face when he speaks.

"You don't have to do this." He murmurs, his lips moving mere inches away from your own.

"Hm?"

"This," He jostles the dress slightly, as much as he can with it around your waist, ""If this is too much, you don't have to go undercover. It seems stressful to me."

"It is." You nod, even though he can't see it. The movement shakes your chest slightly too, and with the way Hotch is crouched, your boobs bounce just below his jaw.

You take the time that his eyes are closed to admire his face like you can't when he sees you. There's equal laugh lines and frown lines in his face, and you're glad he doesn't overdo the latter.

You slide the dress the rest of the way up your body, fitting your arms through the sleeves and securing them over your shoulders. Then you hum, 'okay', and his eyes flutter open.

They widen at the dress, a maroon garment that hugs your curves and billows out at the waist. You back away from where you'd been nearly standing on his toes, tentatively turning on your heel, "Could you zip me up?"

"Mhm," He nods once, reaching for the zipper. It puts his hands on your lower back and you barely contain a shiver, something that you'll think about long after tonight.

"There," Hotch hums, securing the clasp at the top of the zipper's track.

"You're sure you want to do this?" He asks, his breath now fanning over your mostly-bare shoulder. This time you do shiver, but you hope he doesn't notice.

"I have to," You nod, "I'll be okay, Hotch."

"Alright," He nods reluctantly, his voice soft and careful, "I'll be across the room the whole time if you need me. Just say the word and I'll be there."

You pride yourself on not collapsing at his words despite your weak knees. You nod, "Thanks." And finally turn to face him with a nervous smile.

"Ready?"

"Ready," You nod, and he steps aside to let you pass him. Despite having let you go first he reaches the door before you do, pulling it open for you and letting you lead the way out.

"Oh," Morgan crows from across the room, "Killer, baby!"

"The pigtails are a nice touch." Reid smiles kindly at you, "Did you know that-"

"Yes Reid," You put a hand up, not intent on hearing nauseating statistics, "I know."

He nods, blinking rapidly at being cut off. But he's quiet, and that's all that matters to you right now.

"Okay, Morgan, you're with me," Hotch commands, "We'll be stationed around the club just in case Y/L/N needs help. And Reid, you stay here with Rossi. JJ will be out soon. Let me know if Garcia has any updates."

"Will do," Reid nods, and Hotch gestures to the exit of the police precinct, letting Morgan fall into step beside you.

"Nervous?" He asks, elbowing you in the arm.

You take a deep breath, nodding, "Yeah, a bit. But it'll help, I'm sure."

"It will." Hotch assures you, heading for the team's SUV and pulling open the passenger door for you. He pointedly avoids looking at the hem of your dress when you climb into the seat as it rides up your thighs, and he even tucks the fabric into the car so that it doesn't get caught in the door.

"Good?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for your confirmation. When he has it, he shuts the door, striding around the front to the other side.

"I think boss man's more affected than the unsub'll be," Morgan snickers, and you turn to glare at him while Hotch climbs into the front seat.

"Morgan," Hotch eyes him disapprovingly in the rear view mirror, "Whatever you're doing, stop."

"Told you," Morgan smirks at you, hissing at the slap you land to his forearm, "Ow! Hotch, control your work wife."

"You probably deserve it," Hotch drawls, pointedly ignoring the work wife comment, as do you. But everyone notices the slight rosy tinge to his cheeks, and as usual, Morgan doesn't know when to quit. You're happy for the excuse to check your phone, even if the text does make your face flush hot.

Derek: I know he helped you get that dress on, maybe he'll help you take it off tonight ;)

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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till-you-scream-and-cry · 2 years

Text

Kneel

summary: you meet Ethan at the Halloween party, and you’d never expect his costume to make you feel the way it did.

word count: 1.9k

contents: SMUT, religious kink, blasphemy, people with religious trauma, beware

author's note: this one is brought to you because of @roisinlove123 ‘s request and my insanity. Enjoy 😘

Måsterlist | tåglist | my chapter story

“Fuck…”

You mumbled, hit the red button on your phone screen and threw it on the passenger seat. Your mother never failed. Every damn year she called you on Halloween night to remind you that ‘you can’t celebrate this satanic holiday' and that 'you’ll go to hell for that’. If only this poor woman knew about all the fun stuff which already guaranteed you a cell there, a long time ago. Starting from alcohol and drug abuse every weekend, through adultery and sex outside of marriage to some ungodly acts of occasional homosexuality.

Yeah, the list was long. You looked at the mirror and smiled, fixing your lipstick. This year you definitely nailed the costume, no doubt about that. A perfect mix of slutty and scary.

You sighed and left your car, clapping the door loudly. They were late as always. You were supposed to give Thomas, Ethan and Vic a lift to a costume party, apparently, they had an amazing costume idea. Well, to find out you had to move your ass and ring a doorbell since none of them gave you a sign of life.

“I don’t remember Anabelle being this hot”

Ethan opened the door in nothing but jeans and a devilish smirk. You smiled and fixed your pigtails.

“Well, why aren’t you dressed yet? Or is this your outfit? Sexy and scary Italian?”

“Oh, so I’m sexy?” He asked, crossing his arms on his chest and leaning against the doorframe.

“As if you didn’t know that already.” You smirked, watching his flexed arms.

“Sorry! We’re ready!”

Vic and Thomas appeared in the hall, dressed as Morticia and Gomez Addams. Vic put her hair in a low bun, painted a moustache and put on her black suit. Thomas had a surprisingly nice, black wig, amazing makeup and a long velvet dress, with a leg slit, showing his hairy thigh.

“Guys it’s fucking amazing.” You said and started slow clapping.

“Grazie, we tried,” Thomas said and threw his hair back. “What are you waiting for, we’re already late.” He said to Ethan, who was very amused with their final look.

“Oh, I have one more thing to do. And well…I like a big entrance.” Ethan said with a mysterious smirk and winked at you.

“Alright, see you later then. Let’s go guys.” You said to Vic and Thomas, almost pushing them outside.

“Have fun!” You’ve heard a raspy scream of Damiano, followed by a loud series of coughing. He had bad luck catching the flu right before Halloween.

“Get better soon, dude!” You yelled and left, leaving a smirking and waving Ethan in the doorway.

The party was amazing, much better than you expected. Everyone did a really good job with costumes, some people were unrecognizable. You lost Thomas in the crowd, Vic was flirting with some girl dressed as Britney in ‘One More Time’, shamelessly staring at her tits. She glanced at you and winked before dragging the girl towards the bathroom. You smirked and walked to a bar to refill your glass, your head was buzzing a little, but definitely not enough. You poured a fair amount of whisky and coke and turned around to face the room. You took a sip and almost choked.

Ethan was standing maybe two, or three meters in front of you. His hands in his pockets, a shit-eating grin on his gorgeous face. He was standing there, waiting for you to notice, to see your reaction. His hair was loose and waved, thrown back, exposing his neck. It was a crucial point of his outfit. He had a collar on. But not a choker, oh no. It was a clerical collar. He was dressed as a fucking priest.

Ethan walked a little closer and cocked his head to the side, licking his lips slowly.

“Oh, so you like it?” He said, standing even closer.

His cologne reached your nostrils, you started noticing details such as his eye makeup, rings on his thick fingers, and the button-up black shirt which was a bit too tight on his bicep.

“Uh huh, yeah I kinda do…”

You mumbled, not understanding fully what was going on with you. Nobody has been ever able to turn you on so damn much by any roleplay. You felt the deeply rooted Christian guilt mixing with your degradation kink. You needed his hands on your neck and his cock down your throat, and you needed it now. You needed him to tell you what a sinner and filthy slut you are.

“I’m sorry, are you still there? You’re almost drooling cucciola. Try to be more subtle, or I'll think that it’s because of me.” He said and gently grabbed your chin. You tilted your head back, unable to control the tiny gasp that left your mouth.

“Or maybe you need to talk to me in private. Confess your sins maybe?” He mumbled against your lips. All you could do was nod, a bit too eagerly. He smirked.

“Come with me then, little lamb,” he said and grabbed your hand firmly.

He led you through the corridor and opened the door to a small room which turned out to be the pantry. He turned on a light, a single, old lightbulb. Ethan pushed you inside and locked the door. The room was small, shelves full of jars were on both walls, and on the wall facing the door, there was a small table. He stepped closer, making you walk backwards till your thighs hit its edge..

“There, such a pretty girl.” He grabbed your chin again, harder this time. His thumb started brushing your lips, smearing your dark red lipstick. “So pretty and dressed like a whore. Maybe you want to confess what else you're guilty of, hmm?

“Yeah…” A breathy word left your mouth.

“So? I’m listening. I can’t believe that with lips like this you don’t just love sucking cocks.”

“I do.” You mumbled, feeling your panties getting completely soaked.

“Oh, I know you do. But I bet you like pussy too, I’ve heard gossips.”

He slipped his hand under your dress, slowly caressing your thigh. You parted your legs a little, aching for him to touch you where you needed it most.

“I bet just thinking about it makes you wet, that’s how filthy you are, aren’t you? Just dripping at the thought of it.”

He moved his hand to your inner thigh and briefly brushed your soaked panties, making you gasp. He took his hand away and grabbed your cheeks hard between his thumb and index finger.

“Oh no, you need to atone for being a whore first.”

“Please…Father.” You mumbled, feeling no shame left. You craved him too much to care. He smirked and bit his lip.

“Kneel.”

You obeyed him without a question, You dropped to your knees in an instance, without breaking the eye contact.

“Such a good girl…” He mumbled, unbuckling his belt.

He unzipped his trousers and let his already hard cock out. He wasn't wearing any underwear. He grabbed his dick and gave it a few strokes, staring deeply into your eyes, enjoying how eager and willing you looked.

“Take it, slowly.” He commanded.

You grabbed him with one hand and gave him a long lick. He felt so warm and heavy on your tongue, that you couldn’t hold back a hum. Ethan shook his head.

“You can’t even pretend that you’re sorry for being a slut, can you?” He asked with a grin. You shook your head and smirked. “Well if you’re acting like a slut, you should be fucked like one.”

Ethan guided your head, you wrapped your lips around his cock and started slowly sucking the tip. But it wasn’t enough. He grabbed your pigtails and started pulling you lower, making you take him deeper in your mouth. He made you take him almost entirely, making you choke a little, getting your eyes teary. He let you go and allowed you to take a breath, staring with a smirk at the saliva dripping down your chin.

“Such a good girl.” He mumbled. You smiled and opened your mouth wide again, sticking out the tongue.

He grabbed your hair and pushed in slowly but surely, this time letting you take less of him. Ethan started grunting and bucking his hips towards your face. As he got louder and faster he suddenly stopped and grabbed your face, pulling you up from your knees.

“Such a perfect little slut, I think you deserve a reward.”

He swiftly turned you around and pushed you on the small table. His big hands run up your thighs, pulling up your short dress. Ethan snapped your lacy panties and threw them aside. He kicked your legs apart and forced you to bend over, exposing yourself more for him.

“So pretty…” He said and ran two fingers through your folds, making you whimper. “And so damn wet, all for me…” He pushed two fingers in. You whined pathetically, desperately spreading your legs further. He chuckled.

“You want some cock, don’t you? Just aching to get it, filthy whore.” He smacked your ass hard with an open hand, leaving a red print on it. “Beg for it.”

You looked over your shoulder and bit your lip.

“Please…please I need you.”

“You need…what?” he asked, teasing your hole with his tip.

“Please I need your cock, I need it deep inside me…Father.” You whined.

Ethan grunted, slowly pushing in, stretching your tight cunt around his dick. You gasped and arched your back, feeling him deeper, and deeper. He finally pushed all the way in and smacked your ass again.

“Taking me so well, I see you’re very well trained, hmm?” He asked and smacked you. “I bet I’m the best you had.”

He didn’t even give you a chance to respond. Ethan slipped almost all the way out, only to slam back in you with force. It felt so good that you screamed, not caring much about people who might hear. He grabbed your hips and started bucking into you hard and fast, leaving you breathless. Your moans filled the room, the noises of your skin slapping against each other, and the sound of how wet you were. You felt that you were dripping down your thighs. His fingers dug deep into your skin, surely leaving bruises behind.

“Fucking scream for me, tell me how good it feels.” He growled.

“It feels so fucking good…” You mumbled between moans, unable to think straight.

“Now…I’m…your…god!” he spat out with every thrust.

“Yes…Yes!” You screamed loudly before the orgasm clouded your brain. You had no idea how loud you were, what words left your mouth and how hard he went towards the end. You felt the bliss incomparable with anything you ever felt. He was right, he was the best one you had.

“Cazzo…” He mumbled before coming with a moan.

He filled you with his hot cum, as you were still clenched around his cock. Your legs were shaking and your head was spinning as if you just downed a full glass of tequila. Ethan slipped out of you and grabbed the panties he tossed aside. He sat you on the table, knelt in front of you and cleaned you up with great care. He looked up at you and smiled, kissing your still-shaky leg.

After some time to collect yourselves, Ethan kissed you softly and opened the pantry door. He immediately disappeared into the crowd, leaving you to yourself. Tired and still shaky, you poured yourself a drink, and turned around, feeling someone’s eyes on you.

“Oh hey.” You said to Vic, who was squinting her eyes at you. “What?” You asked with a blissful smile.

“Oh nothing,” A big grin slowly showed up on her face. “I just don’t remember the part of the film where Anabelle fucks a priest."

...

tåglist: @oro-e-diamanti @wonderlandishell @maneskinbrainrot @elvirabelle @maneslut @ha-la-ansia @mortyandem @noemieprd27 @icarodamiano @myleftsock @iamtashaquinn @coven-daddy @mylittlegoldilocks @thewitchinthemountain @8iunie @bethanysnow @writingmaneskin @mayayayayurmom19 @blackberryblossom @hiraetheral @ilwiwbysmv @weareoddlydrawn @jrj2 @bieberhoodforever @slutforethantorchio @chesirecatt @que–sera–sera @damiisdaddy @xmusse @iamtashaquinn @butkutee @ohdamiano @little-moonbeam-666 @changbineyeskz @Måneskintifoso @stardustingold @woahzz11 @cuzimitaliano @thegeminisgirl @bisexual-babygirl-mj @maneslut @damiisdaddy @vicdeangelis @xweirdxsceletton @fanfictionandfluff @the-invisible-queer @superchrystaldrug @paralianeyes @que–sera–sera

#maneskin fiction #maneskin smut #ethan torchio fiction #ethan torchio smut #smut #religious kink #blasphemy #my writing #kneel

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f0point5 · 5 months

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Soo is there a side where Max's dad is praising Y/N when she was horse riding. She had a lot of pressure from her dad, and we saw Jos once said she was a brave girl for riding. Or maybe Sophie is the one who always praised her when she saw how hard she had it with her dad. I just think that Max, even when he was younger, was in awe of her, but he went about it with the whole pulling the girls' pigtails and acting like an ass. So idk maybe a part like that where we see them when they were young and the relationship between their families

The headcanon is Y/N didn’t see much of Sophie post divorce, because it was Y/N’s dad that was more friends with Jos while Y/N’s mum was more friends with Corinna (Mick’s mum), so definitely Y/N saw more of Jos.

But I will die on the hill that Jos is a bit of a soft girl dad and while he obviously likes tough love, I think he probably had more of a soft spot for Y/N than her dad did at times, maybe because she was the same age as Vic and he was away from Vic so often. I also think Jos recognised that while he was pushing Max towards something Max wanted and could achieve, Y/N’s dad was pushing her into something she was lukewarm about, so he was just like, this guy is wasting his money and this girl isn’t happy. I don’t think he was ever very affectionate or outwardly kind to her, which is why she so vividly remembers him calling her brave, because it was so unusual, but I think he probably did see a bit of Sophie in her also, her stubbornness and her fiery temperament, which he appreciated quietly.

And let me tell youuuu Jos knew Max had some kind of fasincation with her from early teenage years. He could see Max sneaking glances at her and he knew even though Max was shy and very standoffish, and so vocal about how she was rude and annoying, that his cheeks would get RED whenever she was around. He also didn’t push it because Max had other things to focus on and they’re kids, maybe they’ll grow out of it.

I think a whole part about the family relationships would be complicated for an smau because way back when, there was only really texting (and a very early version at that) and email to really get all that across which would be a bit odd to read I think.

I would really like to explore more of the parents’ povs on it though so idk if I can find a way to do that in a way that feels authentic 🤔

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quasieli · 2 years

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[Image description: A digital drawing of Vic (she/he), Desi (she/her), Ava (she/her), and Briza (she/they), NPCs from my D&D campaign, set against a geometric multishaded pink and purple background. Vic, on the left, is a young, thin, dark gray-purple Drow with short dark blue hair. She is wearing a belted yellow dotted jumpsuit that has a darker lower half. Desi, in the middle, is a young, tall, buff, brown Firbolg with short black hair and sharp, animal-like teeth. She is wearing a black tank top that reads "Big Dyke Energy" and is surrounded by hearts in the colors of the lesbian flag, as well blue shorts.

Ava, who is sat on top of Desi, is a pale blue Eladrin/Genasi toddler with dark purple hair pulled up in two pigtails with pink bows. She is wearing a pink shirt. Briza, on the right, is a young, thin, blue Eladrin woman with curly dark purple hair that is styled in two low hanging pigtails and two braided buns on top of her head. She is wearing a lilac crop tank top and a multi-tiered pink skirt held up with suspenders. Desi, at the center of the image, is flexing proudly with both arms held up, with Vic hanging off one of her arms and Briza hanging off the other, while Ava sits atop her head, holding onto her long ears for balance. Desi is flashing a tooth smile as she looks forward. Vic is smirking as she looks at Briza, while Briza is looking up at Ava and Desi with a warm smile. Ava is smiling gleefully, revealing some missing baby teeth. End description.]

It's been a few months since my girls have been in my campaign and I miss them so, so I thought I'd do a cute family portrait! My sweet girls ☀️🌙✨️

#Eli's Art #EWF #Sun Moon and Stars #Vic #Desi #Ava #Briza #they're doing fine rn #I'm hoping the party will be able to see them again soon-ish #I say as if I'm not the one who controls that lol #but they prob won't see them til next arc #and this current arc just started #I'm excited about this arc!#but I miss my gorls

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mudwerks · 5 years

Photo

(via and everything else too: Polly's Pilgrimage)

Polly Pigtails poem from the November 1947 issue, ("Play Pumpkinball!"), plus a funny gag at the end, all beautifully illustrated by Vic Herman.

#Polly Pigtails #vintage #magazine #girls #1947 #art #illustration #humor #Vic Herman #thanksgiving #Play Pumpkinball

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8iunie · 10 months

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via Victoria’s Instagram story, 24.06.2023

#THEY ARE SO ME PLEASE #måneskin #maneskin #thomas raggi #victoria de angelis #i fratellini che carini #vic + pigtails #my posts 💫#ig story #video #flashing #festivals 2023 #glastonbury festival 2023 #arctic monkeys #june 2023 #må smiling 😁

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icarodamiano · 1 year

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Thomas and Victoria via @/funnr Instagram story | January 19, 2023

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ntt-react-and-memes · 2 years

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NTT react to being hired at a Maid Cafe.

Vic: he starts wearing the maid uniform full time to show off his thicc thighs, which have in fact, saved lives. the skirt comes up to his waist because he's 6'5"

Joey: starts buying hair accessories so he can wear it in pigtails and other fun ways

Donna: questions why she ever left paradise for this (the answer is Vic's thick thighs ofc)

Dick: gets full-bodied tackled and scooped up and paraded around by Kory when she sees him in a maid uniform

Kory: the costume also doesn't fit her, so she gets a custom one with pants and garfield cries for days

Gar: he gets fired for being a perv immediately after making a comment about how disappointing Kory wearing pants is

Wally: starts protesting outside the cafe (is also fired immediately) because this is too indecent for the eyes of children

Raven: she's happy she's not wearing pants. but she does miss her robe. she gets fired for screaming and crying about trigon in the middle of serving customers (and spilling her trays as it happens)

#ntt #teen titans #titans

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nooneelsecomesclose17 · 3 years

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Robron week - Day 2

This is really really tenous given the prompts, but I loved the idea and I think I made it fit!

I now pronounce you...

Robert couldn't believe now time flew. It felt like only yesterday that he'd met his daughter and now she was getting married. He was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her, Aaron outside on the excuse of checking the vintage car he'd spent months doing up for his baby girl, but Robert knew better. Aaron knew he wanted a few minutes on his own.

"Dad, you ready?"

"Been ready for hours sweetheart. You know your Dad and I got ready for our wedding in about twenty minutes."

"Which time?" He can hear the laughter in her voice, all three of their children were fascinated by their two weddings and teased them all the time.

"Haha very funny. Now come on, let me see this dress I'm paying for."

"It wasn't that much!"

"Your grandmother took you shopping, I'm sure it cost a pretty penny." He hears her footsteps at the top of the stairs and looks up. "And it's worth every single one."

She looks amazing, far too grown up for his liking. He wishes he could turn back the clock to when she was still tiny, hair in pigtails, begging him to play with her. Now she's fully grown, independent and beautiful and leaving them.

"Will I do?" She does a twirl in front of him the way she always used to, laughing as she does.

"You look beautiful. Your Dad's going to have a heart attack, you know he's not dealing with the fact you're leaving home very well. This might just tip him over the edge."

Aaron had been the one who had interrogated Euan when she'd brought him home, frightening him almost to death when he'd casually mentioned their time in prison over dessert, but in the end even he'd had to admit that they were perfect for each other.

Ana was full of dreams, regardless of any limitations and she'd ended up disappointed numerous times when she'd thought she'd failed, or things hadn't gone the way she'd hoped, but Euan seemed to balance her out, his feet firmly on the ground but fully able to keep up with Ana and her moods that he swore she got from Aaron, even if he insisted different.

"Do you think he minds that I asked you to make the speech?" He shakes his head immediately. He knew Aaron was relieved if anything, never one for public speaking, but Ana had still been worried, creeping down the stairs one night when Aaron was asleep to ask him the best way to broach the subject.

"No, course not. Anyway he's been telling me stuff to put in all week so it's just as much his speech as mine." He holds out his hand to her after checking his watch. "You ready?"

"In a minute. How did you...you and Dad, I know you started as an affair, but how did you know? That it was him you wanted?"

"Oh I don't know, it just crept on me I think. Some days it didn't matter what I had on or what I was doing, I couldn't stop thinking about him, he was there every minute, from when I woke up to when I went to sleep. You know when you've got a crush on someone and they're always in your head, and you can't shift them no matter how hard you try? It was something like that, only a hundred times more. Why?"

"I...s'pose I just wanted to make sure I was doing the right thing. You and Dad have got through everything together, I want me and Euan to be like that."

"Well maybe with a few less visits to the police station, eh?" She glares at him, looking just like Aaron. "And are you?"

"I think so. What if we're not?"

"Then your Dad and I will always be here. This is your home sweetheart, whenever you need it. But, you won't, because that lad survived dinner with your Dad, and an interrogation by your Grandma, and there's not many that can say that now is there." In fact they'd seen off more than a couple of her early boyfriends one way or another which she'd been grateful for eventually. "Right, come on, let's go make your Dad cry eh?"

He takes her arm, leading her outside, seeing Aaron polishing the front of the car. It's been a labour of love and no matter how much he'd complained about it, Robert knew he'd enjoyed every minute.

"There you are! I was beginning to think he'd taught you his escaping out of the bathroom trick." When he finally turns round Robert sees the tears start and he shakes his head a little. "Look at you."

"Dad." She's blushing and his eyes soften as he looks at Aaron. Somehow they've managed to raise three wonderful children. "Would you be really offended if we left the car here, and walked?"

Aaron looks stunned, after the fuss she'd made about it but he nods. "Whatever you want, it's your day. The two of you can drive it to the station later if you want. Your Dad will pick it up."

"I will?"

"Yes. So why the change of mind?"

"Just feel like walking. It's a nice day."

"It's freezing!" He can't help complaining. It was mid December after all. "The church heaters better be switched on!"

"Come on old man, don't want you seizing up do we." With that Aaron takes Ana's other arm and the three of them set off towards the church. When they reach it he's surprised that their other daughter, Sara, isn't waiting for them as she's bridesmaid, but there's no one in sight. "Must all be inside, can't say I blame them."

"No, they're not. Come on." With that Ana lets go of their arm and starts walking.

They end up outside the village hall and he and Aaron both stop when they see the guests gather round the exact spot where they'd got married years earlier. It's decorated with hundreds of lights and it looks like something out of a fairytale.

"What the..."

"It didn't feel right getting married in church, neither of us is religious, and besides the two of you haven't done too badly after getting married here. We decided to surprise you."

"How did you do this? I walked up to your Aunt Vic's this morning and there wasn't a single sign of any of this."

"Everyone helped. Seb was in charge, which means it's a miracle that it's all working right but anyway...surprise!"

He doesn't know what to say, and he can see Aaron doesn't either, he's just standing there, mouth open.

"Well done, munchkin, you've managed to stun them into silence." Seb ambles over, the tie of his suit already loose and his hair all over the place.

"Don't call me that! Idiot!" She manages to punch him in the arm before he darts away, her aim always good. "It's my wedding day, you're meant to be nice to me!"

"Yeah yeah." He grins at her before kissing her cheek. "Good luck...munchkin. You look amazing."

When he's gone she falters almost and Robert knows exactly what it is, nerves, a little bit of sadness that this part of life is over and a new one is beginning.

"You ready sweetheart?" Aaron's there, as always, calm and reassuring and she nods, taking his arm once more, looking at Robert to take the other. "Let's get you married then."

#robron week #rw2021 #just made it in time #the most tenuous link to the prompt ever #that's what I get for leaving it to the last minute!

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dlwritings · 4 years

Text

Call Him Hers | Dean Winchester | pt 4

series masterlist found here

general masterlist found here

pairing - Mark-of-Cain!Dean x plus-size!reader word count - 4,390 warnings - mentions of suicide, language

(A/N) - find my John Mulaney reference lol

summary - (Y/N) and Dean have a busy day but come to no concrete conclusions. Too stressed to sleep, the pair end their night watching the stars on Baby’s hood and talking about things too scary to talk about in the daytime.

(previous) (next)

(Y/N) woke up with her head on the cold bathroom floor. She immediately groaned and sat up, hovering over the toilet to throw up. There was a knock at the door, and she could only groan again in response. Dean opened the door a crack, a slightly patronizing smile on his face. “Shut up,” she muttered, turning her head back to the toilet again.

“Did you sleep on the bathroom floor?” Dean asked teasingly.

“I don’t remember,” she muttered. “I went to the bathroom at some point to, you know, puke my guts out-” Dean chuckled. “-and I don’t remember the rest.”

“Well,” Dean said, coming to sit beside her on the floor. He held her hair back as she heaved over the toilet again. “I remember hearing you throw up, coming to check on you, and you yelling at me to get out. That was around 2AM. You must’ve blacked out.”

“Oh?” she said, catching her breath again. “So that’s what blackout drinking is like?”

Dean chuckled. “Blackout drinking is when your brain goes to sleep but your body gets all Eye of the Tiger and soldiers on.” She groaned and moved away from the toilet, flushing it as Dean rubbed her back.

“Did we learn anything about the vics?” she asked.

“Yeah, not really,” he said. “I couldn’t really get any serious questions in with all your drunk rambling about what a great ass I have.” Her eyes grew wide as she turned to look at him.

“What?” she said.

“Oh, you don’t remember?” Dean continued to tease. “You just went on and on about how amazing my butt is.” She groaned and put her face in her hands.

“Go away,” she said. “I’m gonna drown myself in the bathtub.”

Dean chuckled again. “No time. Charlie and Sam are already heading out to start talking to vics’ families. We gotta start our investigating.”

“Fine,” she said, starting to stand up from the floor. “What’s your plan?”

“Well, I was talking to some of your classmates last night,” Dean said, “and a few of them are putting together some sort of event for the girls who have gone missing. I guess they’re upset that the town hasn’t been doing enough to find them. Thought they’d do something about it. I told Jennifer we’d go.”

“What time does it start?”

“1:00.”

“What time is it now?”

“A little after ten. You want to get some breakfast?”

“‘M not hungry,” she said, rubbing her eyes and staring at herself in the mirror.

“You should eat,” Dean said. “Greasy breakfast’ll make you feel better.”

“I don’t want to leave the hotel,” she said, turning around and leaning her back against the counter to look at Dean.

“Fine,” Dean said with a laugh. “I’ll order room service.”

“Fine,” she said. “I’m taking a shower.”

Dean left her alone in the bathroom, and she made her way into the shower. She felt like utter shit and hoped a cold shower would wake her up a bit. When she got out, she wrapped a towel around her body and stepped out of the bathroom to get some clothes out of her suitcase. Dean was sitting on the bed, the room service already having arrived. She ignored his gaze as she went into her suitcase and pulled out some black jeans, an AC/DC t-shirt, and a red flannel.

Dean swallowed thickly as soon as she was out of sight. Did she always look that good? Had he always wanted to grab the edge of her towel and pull it off? Shit.

She changed in the bathroom, did some quick make-up, and braided her hair into two pigtails. When she went back into the bedroom, she plopped onto the couch next to Dean. He handed her a coffee mug. “Drink this and don’t argue with me,” he said. She chuckled and smelled the coffee with a smile before bringing the mug up to her lips. She stuck her tongue out in disgust as soon as she took a sip of -what she realized was- very dark coffee.

“Ew, it’s black,” she said. “You know I hate black coffee.”

“Cream and sugar’ll upset your stomach,” he said simply, grabbing one of the plates of food that was on the cart next to the bed.

“And a greasy breakfast won’t?” she retorted. Dean raised his eyebrows at her.

“I told you not to argue with me,” he said. She rolled her eyes and forced herself to drink more coffee. Dean handed her the other plate which was piled with bacon, ham, scrambled eggs, and toast. Just looking at the food made her nauseous, but then her stomach growled and she figured Dean probably knew what he was talking about.

Once 1:00 rolled around, she was feeling significantly better. She still didn’t feel 100%, but she felt good enough to put on a good face at the event. Jennifer had told Dean that the event was at a country club about 20 minutes out of town, so they got dressed into some nicer clothes, and she and Dean headed out at 1:00 with the intention of showing up a little late. When they got there, they realized the town was basically holding a memorial service. “They’re acting like they’re already dead,” she mumbled to Dean as soon as they walked in.

The pair managed to avoid Jennifer and decided to skirt right over to Nicole and Stephanie, just glad to see some faces (Y/N) didn’t absolutely despise. “So how long have they been missing now?” she asked after the obligatory small talk.

“Hm,” Nicole hummed, “Amanda’s probably been gone for three weeks, Elizabeth two, and Sarah maybe a week and a half?” She looked at Stephanie for confirmation who nodded in agreement.

“You guys still live in town right?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yeah,” Nicole said. “We met out in California at college and moved back here as soon as we graduated.”

“So you know everyone pretty well?” Dean said.

“Well, yeah,” Nicole said with a slight chuckle. “But everyone knows everyone.”

“So Amanda, Elizabeth, and Sarah knew each other?” Dean asked.

“They were practically inseparable in high school,” Nicole said, to which (Y/N) nodded. “I guess it didn’t really change.”

“Did they have any enemies?” Dean asked. “Like, people who would want something bad to happen to them?”

Stephanie laughed. “Aren’t you a mechanic?”

Dean shrugged with a smirk. “True crime’s a hobby.” Stephanie raised her eyebrows, and Dean gave a short nod. “Humor me.”

Stephanie and Nicole looked at each other before each scanning the crowd around the room. (Y/N) immediately could tell they were about to share something they didn’t want a lot of people hearing. “I honestly don’t think Jennifer ever got over all that high school drama,” Nicole said.

“What high school drama?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know,” Nicole said off-handedly. “Jennifer always wanted to be part of their group, but they never quite let her in.”

“I feel like that was the case for a lot of people though,” (Y/N) argued. “Jennifer had plenty of other friends, right?”

“I guess,” Nicole said with a shrug.

“There’s also Ryan,” Stephanie added, motioning across the room to a guy (Y/N) didn’t recognize.

“Who’s he?” she asked.

“That’s Amanda’s husband,” Stephanie said. “They’ve been having issues for a while now. He always said she spent too much time with the girls. Guess he wanted her to grow up and get out of high school, and she never really did.”

“You think it bugged him enough to do something about it?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know,” Stephanie mumbled. “Something about him did always put me off.” (Y/N) looked over at Ryan again. He looked like what Shawn Mendes would probably look like in ten years if he stopped caring about himself. He wasn’t really looking at anybody either, but she couldn’t determine if he was capable of something crazy without knowing him. Plus, she was looking for vampire traits, and those weren’t exactly something she could determine from afar.

The rest of their time at the event was pretty uneventful. If anything, they ended up with too many suspects. When they got back to the hotel, they met up with Charlie and Sam in their room to go through the information they had gathered. So far, they had come up with a group of seven people whose motives they could make clear:

Jennifer, the jealous girl who couldn’t move on from high school.

Ryan, the husband who thought his wife wasn’t giving him enough attention.

Jamie, the girl who moved into town just before the disappearances started happening. Natasha, Sarah’s younger sister who always felt she was living in the older girl’s shadow.

Danny, the boy who had dated all three of the girls at some point since meeting them in high school.

Chis, the boy who asked all three girls out at some point and was rejected every time.

And Jojo, the emo girl who never left the emo phase. She just fit the stereotype.

“Well this is bullshit,” (Y/N) said, throwing her hands up in frustration after coming up with the list. “I feel like we’ve solved nothing. We don’t know if there’s a family or a nest or, or anything. This is useless.”

“It’s not like we usually solve this stuff in a day,” Sam said. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

They spent the rest of the evening going over all the information they had gathered and getting absolutely nowhere. (Y/N) was tired but also knew she wouldn’t be sleeping a lick that night with how stressed she was. She’d probably be up half the night going over the information in an attempt to find something they must’ve missed. When Charlie and Sam left the room, she got ready for bed and plopped on top of the covers with a sigh. “What’s wrong?” Dean asked, pulling off his jeans in front of her like it wasn’t a big deal. She felt her cheeks warm up as she looked away. Just seeing the tops of his bare thighs did something to her.

“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just been a long day and I’m exhausted, but I’m not really sleepy.” Dean tugged on some sweatpants and stretched his arms over his head.

“You want to go for a drive?” he asked. “I’m not really tired either.”

“Yeah?” she said. He nodded, so she stood up. “That sounds great. I know just the place.”

They left the room and headed out to Baby. Dean wouldn’t let her drive, so she gave him the directions of where she wanted to go. After almost a half hour of driving, they turned onto a dirt road and ended up at a hillside in the middle of nowhere. It overlooked a lake, and there wasn’t a city light in sight. Dean parked the car, and she smiled and got out. Dean followed her, and she looked at him, silently asking permission to sit on the hood of Baby. He nodded, so the two of them carefully got on her hood. She laid back, resting her head against the windshield. “Wow, (Y/N),” she said, mocking Dean’s voice to the best of her ability. “Star-gazing was a good idea.”

Dean laughed. “Is that what I sound like?”

“Mhm,” she hummed. She turned her head to look at him to find him already looking at her. He stuck his arm out and motioned for her to get closer to him. She did, resting her head on the space between his shoulder and collarbone. Everything was fine until she felt Dean’s fingers trace shapes on her side. She couldn’t help but flinch away from his touch, and he frowned and looked down at her.

“Are you okay?” he asked. She gave an awkward, noticeably forced laugh, nodded, and scooted away from him entirely, sitting up a bit and pulling her knees up to her chest. “You’re not okay,” he said as if he had just cracked a secret message she was sending him. He sat up straighter as well.

“‘S stupid,” she said, scratching the back of her neck. “Just having a rough day.” She scoffed. “A rough few days I guess. I really, really don’t like being here.”

“And that’s why you jumped just now?” he asked sarcastically. “Why you’ve been jumping every time I touch you?” She clenched her jaw and stared off at the skyline. “You’re not usually like this. I touch you all the time, and you don’t bat an eye. It’s like we crossed into town, and you don’t want me anywhere near you.”

“That’s not true,” she argued.

“Bullshit,” he said. “You act like I haven’t known you for ten years. Like I can’t see when you’re acting different. I know everything about you.”

“You do not,” she said.

“After last night?” Dean said with a scoff. “Yeah, I think I know everything.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, turning to look at him.

Dean cursed himself inwardly. Was he incapable of keeping his mouth shut? He continued staring at the skyline until she cleared her throat aggressively. “What are you implying?” she asked.

Dean sighed. “I told you. Everyone spills their secrets over enough liquor.”

Her heart started racing. What did she tell him? That she had feelings for him? That she loved him?

“That’s not fair,” she said. “What did I even tell you?” Dean hesitated, his eyes darting between hers, before looking out at the skyline again and scratching the back of his head.

“Just a little about your ex-boyfriends,” he said. “And your dad.”

Her jaw clenched, and she let her chin rest on her knees. “Well,” she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dean sighed again.

“You don’t have to hide stuff from me, (Y/N),” he said. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“There’s not?” she said with a sarcastic laugh. “Because I kind of see myself as the fat girl who gets cheated on by boyfriends and got abused by her dad. To me, that’s a lot to be ashamed of.”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of yourself because of other people’s fucked up actions,” he said. “Your dad hurt you. Your boyfriend cheated on you. You shouldn’t be ashamed of any of that. It’s not like any of that is your fault.”

“I mean,” she muttered, “if I wasn’t so fat, my boyfriend wouldn’t have cheated on me. If I wasn’t such a burden, my dad wouldn’t have abused me. At the end of the day, it does seem to fall back on me.” Dean scoffed, and she turned to look at him, noticing the way his eyebrows were deeply furrowed. “Why do you have such an angry face?” she asked with a short laugh of disbelief. Dean looked at her, shook his head, and looked away again.

“I’m just thinking about how horrible that ex-boyfriend of yours is,” he said. “And your first boyfriend. I just can’t understand how they could tell you you’re fat.”

“Really?” she said with yet another scoff. “That’s what you got from all that? That’s your big takeaway?”

“I mean, it all sucks, (Y/N),” he said. “I just hate that any of them had the power to make you think so lowly of yourself.” He paused and looked at her. “You realize you’re not fat, right?”

“You don’t have to talk to me like I’m a baby,” she said. “I know you’re seven years older than me, but-”

“I’m not talking to you like a baby,” he argued. “I’m just trying to-”

“Well stop it, okay?” she snapped. “I’m 28-years-old. I’ve accepted what I am. I’m a size 16 with a flat ass and unimpressive tits. I’m not a curvy plus-size model. I’m a fat-”

“Would you just shut up?” Dean snapped. She felt tears coming to her eyes, so she turned her head so Dean couldn’t see her face. She felt like a child, and she hated that. Something about this town was making her revert to the person she used to be before she met Sam and Dean, and she hated that person.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, deciding to be honest. “This town, it just-” She cleared her throat and wiped some tears from her eyes. “I don’t like who I am when I’m here. It’s making me into that, that insecure girl who tried to-” She cut herself off with a shake of her head.

“Tried to what?” Dean said.

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “It was a long time ago.”

“(Y/N),” Dean pressed. She forced herself to look at him, and he reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. He noticed the way she leaned into his touch, and the way her eyes closed as she bit her lip made his heart ache. How had he been so oblivious to her pain for so long?

She sighed. “I was 18. It was just before I met you guys actually. Like, maybe a month before? I just, life was really hard.” She paused and blew some air out of her mouth. “Shawn just dumped me, and my dad had disappeared again, and I didn’t want to, I don’t know.” She shook her head again. “I crashed my car into a tree. Head on.” She scoffed and hung her head. “I was going so fast, Dean. I thought for sure it would do it. Turns out I couldn’t even kill myself right.” Dean was quiet, and she couldn’t get herself to turn her head and see his face. “And now look at me,” she almost laughed. “I’m 28-years-old, crying over my old life when I’m not even that girl anymore.”

She leaned back again and rested her hands on her stomach. Dean turned to look at her, and she allowed herself to meet his eyes. “I’m really okay now,” she said. “You know? Like, I am fat, but I’m okay with it. The world needs to stop treating that word like it’s a curse word or something. Like, I know my body is still good for a lot of things. I can kick monster ass, and I save people almost everyday. I’m not that girl who wants to hide anymore, but being here again-” She shuddered and shook her head. “-it’s just a little much.” Dean was still quiet, and she suddenly let out a soft laugh. “I told you you didn’t know everything about me.”

He tried to think of what to say. What could he say? He was happy she could own the word fat like it wasn’t an insult, but it didn’t mean he liked when she said it about herself. Yeah, she was thicker, but why did it matter? Why had people spent so long trying to convince her that it mattered? And she had tried to kill herself? Only a month before he met her? It was too much. She meant the world to him, and to know she had been so close to death without him by her side-

God, it was too much to think about.

Dean laid down next to her again and surprised her by putting his arm around her. Even when she instinctively flinched as his hand gripped her side, he forced her to stay put.

She turned her head to look at him to find he was just looking at the sky. She studied his face, not usually able to be so close to him. His freckles dotted across his nose and cheekbones, and his stubble was just starting to get to the point where she knew he’d probably do a trim. Even in the dark, she could see the bright greens of his eyes and the slight bags beneath them. His lower lip was just barely tucked between his teeth, and he suddenly darted his tongue out to lick it.

“You know I’m actually eight years older than you, right?”

She furrowed her eyebrows, snapping herself out of the trance she had managed to put herself in. “What?” she said. Dean turned his head to look at her.

“You said I was seven years older than you,” he said. “I’m eight. The minute you got it wrong I wanted to say something, but it didn’t seem like the right time.” She couldn’t help the way the corner of her lip curved up into a smirk.

“You’re such an idiot, Dean.”

Dean kissed her temple, and she could feel the smile on his lips. Her hands were still resting on her stomach, and she brushed one of her fingers along the band of Mary’s ring, allowing herself a moment to believe it wasn’t all pretend.

The two of them got back to the hotel room around midnight, and (Y/N) fell right into bed. Surprisingly, she and Dean were both out like lights. She slept well until about 3:00 in the morning when she woke up to the sound of Dean screaming.

Dean had been having a lot of nightmares since he got the mark. They were all so violent and bloody. Most of them ended with him killing Sam. Some of them had him killing her. Neither of them were good. He didn’t know if one was worse than the other. He knew destiny said he would end up killing Sam, so those felt like taunts over the future. The ones where he killed her just felt like the mark threatening to make him kill everyone he cared about.

(Y/N) sat up quickly, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She quickly turned on the lamp beside her bed and simultaneously grabbed her gun from the nightstand only to find the room empty. She looked over at the couch to see Dean laying rigid, his head thrashing from side to side. “No,” he mumbled. “No. (Y/N)!” He let out another shout followed by, “No! Run! No!” She swore it sounded like he was crying as she shot out of bed and rushed over to him.

“Dean,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “Dean, wake up!” It took a few shakes before Dean sat up, breathing heavily in a panic. “Hey, hey, take a breath,” she said, keeping her hand on his arm. Her fingers accidentally brushed across the Mark of Cain, and Dean winced out of her grasp. She didn’t know if it hurt or if it was a reflex like the one she had earlier when he touched her side.

“Just a dream,” Dean mumbled, looking at her. He felt grounded as he looked into her eyes. Her calm, clear eyes. He put his hand on her cheek and brushed his thumb across her skin, nodding to himself. She was here. She was okay. She was alive. “Just a dream,” he said again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. He didn’t say anything, just dropped his hand and stared off into space for a moment. “Hey,” she said, putting her hand on his cheek, making him look at her. “I know you’re hurting, but you’re not alone, okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, noticing the scratch in his voice from the shouting. “Yeah, I know.” She stood up from her crouched position and stuck her hand out.

“C’mon,” she said. “Come sleep in the bed.”

“It’s alright,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t have-”

“I know I don’t have to,” she said. “I want to. Come on. This is ridiculous. If you’re gonna have nightmares, you should at least be comfortable during them.” Dean chuckled a bit and finally took her hand, allowing her to guide him to the bed. He got under the covers, and she laid beside him. She turned on her side, facing away from him, ready to head back to bed. Dean then cleared his throat.

“(Y/N)?” he said softly.

“Mm?” she hummed. She could hear him struggling to spit out what he was trying to say, so she turned her head to look at him. He almost looked embarrassed. “What’s up?” she asked.

This was stupid. Ridiculous. Why was he acting like a teenage boy? He just needed to say what he needed to say. It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t that weird of a request. So what if he was being a little vulnerable? (Y/N) was his friend. She wouldn’t care.

Then fucking talk, Dean.

He looked down at her and instantly relaxed.

“Can I just hold you?” he asked. “In my dream, you just-” He stopped himself with an abrupt shake of his head. “It would just make me feel better.” She swallowed, trying to tell her heart to stop racing, then nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, that’s okay.” Dean scooted closer to her and wrapped his arms around her so he was spooning her. They were both quiet, and she was still trying to get herself to relax in his grasp.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” Dean suddenly whispered, his breath tickling her ear. Sometimes he worried. Worried that the man the mark was making him become scared her. That someday, he would do something wrong -something too wrong- and she would never be able to look at him the same way. He just needed her to know -needed to make sure she knew- that no matter what, he would never, ever hurt her. The mark could never change him so much that he would hurt her.

“Course,” she mumbled, putting her hands on top of his and rubbing her thumb across his skin. She didn’t even realize the way her fingers played with his wedding band. He did. “We’ll get through this, Dean,” she whispered. “I promise.” Dean pressed a feather-light kiss to her ear.

“Sometimes I don’t think I deserve you,” he mumbled.

She almost scoffed. “You deserve everything that is good and more, and I won’t ever stop reminding you of that.” After a beat of silence, she added, “But if you steal the blankets, I’m going to put my cold feet on you.”

“Why are your feet cold?” Dean asked.

“My feet are always cold,” she replied.

“Hm,” he hummed. “You should get that checked out.”

She yawned. “Go to bed, Dean.”

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

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pinkiepiebones · 3 years

Note

Top five DC Villains and why go-

-Croc. I’d actually really like to read more of his stories, specifically stuff where he’s just a big ol’ ex-wrestler with a skin condition and a chip on his shoulder, not a “HHHRAAARR I’LL EAT YOUR BONES” 9ft tall cannibal monster. I mean, sure, play with the presentation of the icthyosis, give him a distinct scaly look, but, like... I just don’t like the brainless GRRR SEWERS CANNIBAL GRR angle

-Harley. I was four or five when BTAS introduced her to the world, so like, that childish naivite that doesn’t “get” the deeper, darker aspects of her character just made me go “teehee silly lady.” As I got older I cosplayed as her- not any particular iteration, but when you put your long blonde hair in pigtails and wear a red and black outfit, most con goers will read Harley into that. Hell, her phychology degree background is legit one of the reasons I got my Bachelor’s degree in psychology (lot of good it’s done me orz)

-Ivy. While I’m not big on the whole “actually I’m half-plant and my magic pheremone scent makes MEN into my puppets” (mind-control perfume should affect everyone imho), I like the “ecoterrorism” aspect of her and I also desperately want her and Zsasz to be if not friends at least characters who can chill with each other without wanting to kill each other.

-Scarecrow. I just think he’s neat.

-And that doofus with the tally marks... Something Jazz? Vic, Victrola Jazz.

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what-a-messsss · 4 years

Text

1x10 rewatch

Ok, let’s get back to Walt Longmire: Disaster Boi of S1 and finish this season off with a...something. Pleading look to the heavens, maybe?

How do I keep forgetting that Lizzie is a thing, even after our decision to find her some nice Smitten Cowboy to be with? Holy hell, but why are you still keeping your dead wife’s ashes in the kitchen? At least you kept Lucian in your fucking truck. In a coffee can. What is with you and breakfast beverages?? We all know you need lots of therapy, but this seems like a kind of niche issue.

“Trust me, you don’t, uh, you don’t want that tea.” Buddy.

Poor Lizzie. She really is so nice. And he’s such a fucking disaster. “You seem weird,” she says, in reaction to him going bug eyed from having to convince her not to drink his dead wife without her realizing that’s what he was doing. Sweetie, you have no idea. And she really does like him.

This is. So. Gloriously awkward. And Lizzie’s there in her bare feet. And all we need is for Branch to show up and we’ll have a full house, and aaaaahahaha, Walt is so trying to freeze time with the power of his brain. Staring off into the Not Here place with his mouth pressed just so... Awwwww, suffer.

I had forgotten that Ferg was the one who actually did the body work on the Bronco! Even did the paint work, because that old truck has never looked so good. I know Omar loaned Walt his truck while the Bronco was “in the shop,” but I like that the writers gave Ferg the skills to do that.

“If anybody... has something they want to say, I suggest you think twice about it.” We don’t need to say anything; we’re too busy laughing at you.

Oof, and then Lizzie hearing Martha’s voice still on the message greeting. She’s really quite a good actress. Lizzie isn’t a terribly subtle character generally, but she gives her these really fine microexpressions that give you occasional glimpses that there is more going on under the surface, and she’s not just an open book. : ( Making me actually like her and feel bad, not just cringe when she comes on. Dang iiiiiiiit.

Ok, that does NOT look like Sharpie. I’m sorry, but that looks like a paint pen or lipstick more than it looks like a Shapie on the dead kid’s forehead. Even if it were one of the jumbo Sharpies, they don’t write like that, they aren’t that colour on skin, and the thickness of the lines are all off. Which is not really relevant, but it buuuuugs meeeee. Pedantic little shit that I am.

Ope, Branch is basically past the angst about Walt not liking him and straight into just giving him nothing but attitude. Which, while I can hardly blame anyone for giving Walt shit, does get old pretty fast.

Walt, you are So Bad at talking to people, even when it’s for the damn job! Yeah, it’s fine to have Ferg fill Vic in, but at least acknowledge that she’s there, damn. Honestly it would have been good for both Vic and Ferg for Walt to tell her to follow Ferg’s lead on this one. He knows the case, the local history, the players, the situation, and probably more about archery than her, and she could stand to take the reminder that working 5 years in big city homicide still doesn’t make her the senior deputy and that she needs to be ok learning from even Ferg. Shit, I keep finding more and more reasons to be annoyed at Walt. Is he even really that good of a sheriff? I’m shaking the ol’ Magic 8 Ball here, and signs point to frickin’ NO. Ugh.

Five HUNDRED dollars says that he didn’t check with Mathias before going on the Rez for official police business again. Jackass.

Can’t really blame Viho for being super bitter. And Ayasha is so sweet. This whole family dynamic is so well done.

Aw, Ferg is so excited about the gum wrapper. “Still minty!” How are you such a sparklebunny? Bless.

Detective Falessssss. His opening line is so great, but uuuuuuuhg, he’s as bad as Walt with his singlemindedness about the case.

“Talk to Ruby. She runs my life.” She runs the department, bucko, and you’d be lost without her! Lost, I say! But you treat her like your personal social secretary, and that’s crap.

In Fales’ dubious defense, you were just super weird about that whole encounter.

Omar! You creepy little lecherous jackass. Why am I still fond of you? It’s really rather galling that I enjoy your character at all, but I doooo. Thank gods he has the beard now; cleanshaven was just wigging me out. “Vickie’s never shot before--” “That is the second-to-last time you will ever call me that.” And I chortle myself to distraction to the point that I have to rewind to catch the lines that I missed. With her horrible plans when she gets drunk (I’m still cringing at that flashback of her with Travis) and her obvious thing for older men, I’m honestly kind of surprised she didn’t end up having a deeply regretted something with Omar at some point. They do have good chemistry in an antagonistic way. And he does so enjoy tugging her pigtails. ...ew. Why is my brain like this?

“A little bit of practice, even a girl can make that shot.” Aaaaaaand we’re back to kick him in the nuts. Not that we ever really left there. Such a butthead.

Boy oh boy, it sure is great the tone that all these shitty rich white people take saying “Indian.”

“That is what a normal person would do in your situation.” Henryyyyyy, I love you so much. Why can’t we spend more time with him in the early seasons? Why are you drinking a Rainier? Nooooo, please have better taste in beer than your boyfriend! You have expensive tastes in bourbon, why can’t you have decent taste in beeeer?

Walt, what is the point of practicing darts when you are FIVE FEET from the board? Seriously, you’re supposed to be like... (a google later) 7 feet 9.25 inches away! That’s... That’s an oddly specific measurement. Wtf. No quickly apparent reason for that specific measure. Resisting the pull of this particular rabbit hole to continue the ep.

Aaaah, that’s right, this is still when Walt thinks that Henry may have killed the guy for him. And BestDad Henry talked to Cady after the blow up about Branch, and he is a wonderful human being. “It’s really none of your concern.” Hoooooow dare you. It is clearly a function of being bffs with that butthead that Henry just smiles (somewhat bitterly) at this instead of tripping him into the bar or shoving his head into the cigarette machine. (Is that a cigarette machine? Wtf is that thing with the yellow lit up portion towards the top? [14:05])

“What a rich inner life you must lead. From time to time, you should consider sharing some of it with the rest of us.” The sass! Swoon. Henry. Marry me.

“I’ve got other problems.” Buddy, you are other problems.

I wonder how many people/places Ruby just has on speed dial so that she can zoom through her list of “Where the hell is Walt now” to get in touch with him.

Aaaaand we’re back to Branch getting a bit big for his britches. Whee. Better fight about it like Big Boys. Ffs. “Go ahead. Give me your best shot.” ::Pat Benatar starts playing in the background:: Oh holy shit, I wish so damn much that I had any know-how about making vids. I would be beyond amused by a spoofy hate vid of Walt and Branch being assholes to “Hit Me With Your Best Shot.” Ooo, oo, or “Hit Me Baby One More Time!” Aaaahahaha, these fucking losers and their fragile masculinity. Get rekt.

Children. Childreeeeen. Stop it, or you can’t go to Timmy’s birthday party next week.

The irony of Vic being the one who is actually calling them on their shit and getting to do their damn jobs. Well shit, they actually have a warrant this time. Will wonders never cease.

Damn, Viho is smart. Politically savy, pointing out the election coming up. He’s got the wrong end of the stick this time, but the fact that he’s seen these angles and considered a bunch of things about the consequences already is telling about how smart he is.

Ruby is so pleased to see Henry. She sounds tired (dealing with Walt and Branch and the sheer volume of bs that is accumulating in that office, no wonder) but still fond. And the look she gives him. I love her so much. She puts up with so much. And I love Henry continually calling Walt and the department on their shit and just being a dedicated activist for his community.

Fuck right off, Branch. “Woah. I know you’re Walt’s friend, Henry, but you don’t have any particular rights here.” You are sliding into being a full on trashbag of a human being so fast, Brancheroo. Reminding a young man of his rights and helping him avoid getting railroaded by your biased ass isn’t a bad thing, you rusty wingnut.

Ok, it might not be Glasses!Henry, but cowboy boots!Henry with the glow of righteousness upon him is also quite A Look.

Aaaaahahaha, for once Vic’s unholy yelling saves the day. Being able to shout over a mass of raucous teens is usually reserved for teachers, camp counselors, and stage managers. Looool and using detention as the threat. And then jail. Heeeh.

This is soooo weeeeeird: I’m starting to genuinely like Lizzie. She just showed up and I remembered that it’s for dropping off that present, and then Vic is such a butt about it, and this poor lady is just trying to date a guy that she really likes and even gave him about 5 different outs that morning and he pointedly didn’t take any of them and dammit, Lizzie deserves better, too. Fuck, Walt, you are such a disaster zone. And Vic is a whole other disaster area that’s looking to, uhhhh, share a border. Yike.

The present is definitely more Lizzie than it is Walt, with the wrapping and everything, but it’s still a sweet impulse. AND THEN VIC, who told Walt how many times that he should call her?? gets all up in her business? Poor Lizzie trying to figure out what the fuck this has to do with Vic or how it is even on the same planet as any of her business. She does have some issues from her previous marriage, but she owns them. And her BS meter is actually pretty finely tuned. Sure picks up on Vic’s awkward boner for Walt in no time flat. Not that it’s particularly well hidden, damn.

This kid is a rapist and a murderer and The Bad Guy, but at the same time, he is a high school kid, chances are he’s a minor, and Walt is talking to him alone in his office without any parent, much less a lawyer. What the fuck.

“Because Ayasha Roundstone told me so,” is a good line, solidly so. And Walt’s all in The Righteous Hand of Justice mode or whatever, with the gravelly voice and standing over the kid, staring him down. Effective. (But where are that kid’s parents?) Ah, that’s right, his dad is taking a shot at whatshisnoodle to make it look like he’s the killer.

Awww, Cady. Honey, how long have you been waiting for you FailDad to show up? Fuck. Right. This was how she found out that Martha was murdered. He lies to her so much. He manipulates her so much. He passes all of this off on it being Martha’s wish, but he even acknowledges that Cady had a right to know and he chose not to tell her. He denies Cady her own agency again and again. He makes decisions for her without ever giving her a chance to choose for herself, and punishes her when she makes a choice that he doesn’t agree with.

It’s not “protecting” her from the pain. “Protecting you from the pain,” is not a father’s job; it’s to teach their child how to manage it, help them live through it, and how to grow past it. You’re damaging her. Into the suuuuuuun, Walt! Into the fucking SUN.

But fuuuuuuuuuuuck, her delivery of that same line, “Well, let me relieve you of that burden,” is sooo good. You done fucked up, buster. And you just keep fucking up. I would say in new and exciting ways, but it’s generally in the SAME DAMN WAYS, dammit Walt.

This flashback is really difficult.

They’re right about that technically being kidnapping, too. Wyoming § 6-2-201 specifically includes defining kidnapping as unlawfully confining another person, with the intent to “facilitate the commission of a felony; or Inflict bodily injury on or to terrorize the victim or another,” with unlawful confinement defined as “accomplished (i) By force, threat or deception; or (ii) Without the consent of a parent, guardian or other person responsible for the general supervision of an individual who is under the age of fourteen (14) or who is adjudicated incompetent.” Meaning that not only could Walt charge Jake with the kidnapping of Rich, but also probably of Ayasha, since she was ruled an unreliable witness and would more than likely be legally considered a “mentally incompetent person” according to the states’ legal definitions.

Not... that I have the Wyoming State Criminal Code downloaded on my computer. >_> Certainly haven’t skimmed about 80% of it trying to figure out what charges would most make sense to be levied against Jacob at the end so that I don’t have to deal with him going in to a Federal prison on RICO charges. <_< Or what Cady probably should have been charged with after that mess with Tate and Catori. Nnnnnnope. Sure don’t, didn’t, haven’t. o_o

This is about the only time I can remember there being a legitimate reason for Walt not to have backup. Since they’re off checking other locations. Also, damn, that was some classic Old West quickdraw shit, Walt! Noice!

“Why did you stop me?” Because you have to testify, you little shit. HE is not terribly bright.

Ooooooo, somehow I forgot that it was Branch who went to Jacob. But that makes total sense; I can’t really see Jacob seeking Branch out, but once he walks himself into his office, Jacob will certainly play those new cards for all they’re worth. Ooooooooo, and the Hotamétaneo’o headdress! I’d forgotten about Branch seeing it, too! Nice call back and foreshadowing to finish off S1!

“You will not find a chili cheeseburger of this caliber anywhere in Colorado.” And now it’s 4:30 in the morning and I want a chili cheeseburger. Thanks, babe. Some daaaaaay, I will figure out which is my favourite Henry, but it is not this day, because godsdaaaaamn, the red checked shirt with that vessssst, is *chef kiss* a wonderful thing. And the director knoooooows it = that pan down Henry’s back as he turns after saying, “I said nothing,” for noooo reason other than to have Henry’s ass on screen. Seriously. He says his line, it pans down, we get a primo shot of his jeans, and then it cuts away. Solely a pan for Henry Butt. Who directed this, and where do I send the fruit basket? Dang, it was Nelson McCormick, and this was the only ep of Longmire he directed. Huh. In S1, there’s only one repeat director, who did eps 1, 3, and 7. Interesting.

Focus, kid. You are less than 3 minutes from the end and you’ve had it paused for over 5 minutes to wander around IMDb. No wonder it takes you three flipping hours to watch one of these episodes. What a mess, indeed.

“We all process grief in our own way.” Buddy. You have not processed. You are a human <BUFFERING> screen. You’re a walking loading symbol. Walt, he gives you some basic vital statistics on the guy, but... You haven’t even asked who it was. Walt, you are so bad at this. Fffffffff--- And there’s season 1. lawd.

#Longmire #episode commentary #cady longmire #cassidy freeman #Walt #Henry Standing Bear #Branch is such a tool #Lizzie (Longmire)#How many tangents did I manage to go on this time?#Yikes

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quickspinner · 4 years

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MLHolidays2k19 - 19. Naughty and Nice

A continuation of 18. Elves

Please do not kill me, y’all, there will be a part 3, I promise.

Note: Part 3 is here!

Luka honestly didn’t expect her to come. Not many girls would come even to a mall bar like this dressed like one of Santa’s elves. Not to mention it was entirely possible that she thought he was a creep. He was kind of hitting on her while she was working, against his own policy. She was just so cute and sweet, and if he wasn’t totally misreading her, she was maybe a little bit into him too, and he couldn’t stomach the idea of missing out completely, so he gave her the most low-pressure invitation he could think of. Luka tried not to think about it after that.

It didn’t go very well. Outwardly he kept his cool, but internally he diverted his thoughts into a list of reasons she wouldn’t come and why he shouldn’t be disappointed. She’d doubtless be tired after handling kids and parents all day. And it was a little weird for a grown woman to be dressing up as an elf. Although it was pretty selfless of her to do it for charity, and year after year, too, it was a kind—wait, no. She probably thought he was a freak anyway, flirting with her after she cheered up his niece, like one of those pathetic guys who thought walking a puppy would help him meet girls. Man, he really hoped she didn’t think that, she was so cute and she seemed so nice and—damn it, Couffaine.

Luka scanned the place every time he walked through as they were setting up. It wasn’t the type of venue he normally played, but the act that had originally been booked for tonight had bailed at the last minute, and the bartender had convinced the manager to let Luka’s band play, though their sound was a bit heavy for the kind of crowd that frequented this place. The stage was smaller, the sound system less powerful, and the lighting quite a bit brighter than what they were used to, but a gig was a gig. Luka had visited while another band was playing to get the feel of the place, and he’d done his best to tailor their set list to make the most of it.

He was just about to go on when he spotted her, leaning against the bar and breathing hard, like she had run to get here in time. Luka swerved away, ignoring his bandmates’ hissed demands for him to come back. “Hey,” he said, touching her elbow to get her attention. She turned toward him and her mouth dropped open a little as she looked him over. That was a nice ego boost, and Luka grinned. “Glad you could make it. I’ve gotta go on, but I’ll come find you after, okay? Enjoy the show.”

He turned to go and then changed his mind.“Hey, Vic,” Luka called, leaning over the bar. “Do me a favor, let Santa’s Helper here order a drink on my tab?”

Victor gave him a wave and Luka headed back to his aggravated bandmates with a shit-eating grin and an extra bounce in his step.

Luka felt good about the performance; the audience seemed into it, the sound quality was acceptable, and it looked like the balance was okay. The lights were hotter than he liked, but that was a minor difficulty, and he was prepared for it.

Luka ditched his bandmates as soon as he could when the show was over, doing the bare minimum to help with the breakdown before slipping away (the others grumbled, but every one of them had been in this situation before, so they just rolled their eyes as they took his spare keys to the van). Luka stopped in the men’s room to rinse off the worst of the sweat and change to a clean shirt, and then he slipped out in search of the cute elf waiting for him. At least, he hoped she waited for him. He paused at the end of the bar when he didn’t see her right away. He jumped when Victor spoke right at his elbow.

“Nice performance.” Victor slid a shot across the bar to him. “I think you’re going to need this.”

Luka looked at him, confused, and Victor tipped his head to indicate a seat a few feet farther down the bar. Luka turned to look where he indicated, and his jaw dropped.

That...was not the elf he expected. Marinette had removed her false ears and name tag of course, but also the belled collar that had lain over her shoulders, her white, long-sleeved undershirt, and the scalloped green overskirt with the bells on it, leaving her in just the red sleeveless dress with its candy cane striped belt. Her striped stockings and belled shoes were also gone, replaced with a simple pair of flats. Her arms were bare, her dress was no longer buttoned up tight to her throat, and her very nice legs were crossed as she perched on the bar stool. She’d taken her hair out of the pigtails and it hung loose around her shoulders. Marinette looked up and smiled a little nervously as someone leaned over to talk to her, and he could see she’d redone her makeup as well, making the most of her stunning blue eyes.

Luka groped for the shot still on the bar without looking away. Victor laughed and shoved it into his hand. Luka tossed it back, barely registering the burn. “Thanks, Vic,” he managed, before he took a deep breath, and went to greet his cute but suddenly not so innocent little elf.

“Hey,” he said, looking her over. “Wow. I thought you were cute before but I gotta say, I’m impressed.”

“Oh,” Marinette blushed. “I didn’t really do much, I just wanted to, you know,” she waved a hand vaguely. “Blend in a little better.”

“Well,” Luka chuckled, looking away before he embarrassed himself staring at her legs, “If that was your plan, then I’m afraid it failed miserably, because you—“ He met her eyes again. “Definitely stand out.”

She blushed harder, but picked up her drink with a flirty little toss of her hair and sniffed, “I’ll bet you say that to all the elves.”

Luka laughed. “Oh my God, you’re so cute,” he chuckled. “Listen, I’m starved, how about we grab a table and get some food? Are you hungry? On me, for taking such good care of Angie. Rose loved the pictures, by the way.”

“Oh, good. Is she feeling any better?”

The question surprised him a little. “Yeah, I think they’re getting towards the end finally. Rose is upright, at least, but Jules is still spending most of her day face down praying to die.” He smiled at her. “Thanks for asking, most people wouldn’t even remember.”

“It’s good that Angie didn’t get sick,” Marinette observed, taking his offered hand and letting him help her down from the bar stool.

“Oh she did,” Luka chuckled. “She’s the one who gave it to her moms. Now she’s all better and wanting to play while they’d rather die than move from the couch. Needless to say I’ve been doing a lot of babysitting the last week or so. I had it a few months ago so they figured I was safe. I promise, I’ve been keeping her clean and sanitized so she can’t pass it along.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose. “Alya made me get a flu shot before we volunteered.”

“That was probably smart.”

A quick word with the hostess got them a table in the restaurant part of the bar, a small circular booth in the corner that was actually probably as private as the place could offer. That was nice. “Are you hungry?” he asked, passing her a menu.

“So hungry,” she sighed, leaning back against the back of the booth.

“You look tired,” Luka said sympathetically. “Sounded like you were in for a long day when we talked before.”

“Yeah,” she turned her face toward him and smiled, and his heart stuttered at the cute way her hair bunched up behind her when she shifted her head. “It was a good day, though, and I’m not sorry I stayed. It took us longer to pack up than I expected and I almost didn’t make it. You guys did great up there, I really enjoyed the show.”

“Good,” Luka said, trying to contain himself as he looked over the menu. “I’m glad we made it worth your time to come. This isn’t exactly the type of place we usually play, though, so we toned everything down a bit tonight. I’d like to have you come see us play for real sometime.” He glanced at her and thought he saw a hint of pink in her cheeks, though she was studying her menu as intently as he.

“I’d like that,” she said, and then darted a glance up at him. They smiled at each other and went back to the menu.

They chatted their way all through dinner, with a generous mixture of flirting whenever one of them could get up the nerve. She talked about her work as a junior designer and her volunteer work with the hospital, and he talked about his family and the musicians he worked with.

Marinette was pretty and she was sweet and she was smart as a whip, and Luka was somewhere between smitten and enamored by the time they ordered dessert. She asked to try his and he ended up sliding close so they could share both.

Then she looked up at him, giggling at something he’d said, and there was a smear of chocolate on her lip that did him in entirely. There was no sign of his usual self-control as Luka moved toward her, catching her face in his hand and turning it up so he could catch her chocolate smeared lip between his, tongue eagerly running across it to sweep the sweet syrup into his own mouth. Then he moved just enough to kiss her more fully, and just as his brain was catching up enough to realize just how forward he’d been, she kissed him back and he lost his mind again, one arm going around her waist to pull her closer, angling to bring her in deeper, and her hands slid up his arms to grip his shoulders, and they were well on their way to a full-blown make out when the sudden slap of the folder containing their check on the table made them both jump. The server gave them a dirty look as he walked away. The message was clear. Stop camping my table and get a room.

“Oh,” Marinette gasped, and turned to grope for her oversized purse. It jingled when she grabbed it and Luka bit back a laugh.

“I’ve got it,” Luka said, flashing her a smile as he picked up the folder. “I told you it was on me.”

“Wow, it’s really late,” Marinette said, looking at her phone. “I guess we were talking for kind of a long time.” She smiled at him regretfully. “I should head home.”

“Let me grab my guitar, I’ll walk you to the metro station,” Luka said, sliding out of the booth and offering her a hand. He wanted to offer her a ride, but intense chemistry or not, he didn’t think she’d be comfortable getting in a car alone with him at night. Especially since he drove what Juleka lovingly referred to as a “kidnapper van” to accommodate the band’s equipment.

“You don’t have to do that,” Marinette said as she slid out of the booth. Luka realized he was staring and quickly diverted his eyes from her legs, though he was pretty sure she’d caught him from the way she tugged her skirt down.

“I want to,” he smiled, squeezing her hand lightly before letting go. “I’ll meet you right outside? I’m already packed up, I just have to grab my things.”

Luka booked it as quick as he could to the back. He put on his coat, shouldering the guitar case and his bag, barely remembering to snatch up his hoodie where it was draped over a chair before he left. He cut through the dwindling crowd to the entrance, winking in response to the thumbs up Victor gave him as he passed.

Marinette was standing just inside the door, looking out of the windows and chewing her thumbnail.

“Don’t you have a coat?” Luka asked, frowning. Marinette jumped nearly out of her skin and whirled.

“Oh. Oh, sorry. Um, no, actually, I think I left it in the locker at the North Pole and they’ll be locked up by now,” she sighed, shoulders slumping. “It’s fine, I’ll just grab it in the morning.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Luka said, draping his hoodie over her shoulders. “Here, you’ll freeze like that. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Thank you,” Marinette smiled, slipping her arms in the sleeves and zipping it up. Luka turned to open the door for her, mostly to hide the grin on his face at the way his hoodie swallowed her.

Marinette seemed jumpy as they walked, which wasn’t surprising since it was pretty cold outside and the hoodie really wasn’t much. She flat refused to take his heavier coat. Her cheeks were pink from the wind, and he couldn’t get a good look at her face in the streetlights. It was too cold for chitchat, and at their quick pace, it didn’t take long for them to reach their destination.

“Well, here we are,” Luka said, stopping to turn toward her as they reached the metro entrance.

“Thanks for walking me,” Marinette smiled, pushing her hair back as the wind tried to blow it in her face. “It was really nice meeting you.”

“I’d really like to see you again,” Luka said, reaching tentatively to take her hand loosely. “I know it’s kind of crazy right now with the holidays, but could I get your number, and maybe we can see about finding some time to get together?”

“Oh...” Marinette bit her lip, and the deer in the headlights look she gave him stopped his heart. Her next words broke it. “I just—I mean, I don’t, uh…I mean we just met, and—”

“Okay,” he smiled, letting her fingers slide out of his. “Then I guess, thanks for a great night, Marinette. I had fun.” He hesitated, and couldn’t help adding hopefully, “I’m taking Angie to Place des Vosges tomorrow to play. We’ll probably get there around ten. If you change your mind, that’s where I’ll be.”

“Um, your jacket—” Marinette began, reaching for the zipper of the hoodie, but Luka raised his hand.

“Keep it, I’ve had it forever, it’s no big deal. Goodnight, Marinette.” Luka turned quickly, trying to keep his exit slow enough that he didn’t look like a dog fleeing with his tail between his legs. It wasn’t like he’d never been rejected before, but this one stung.

It stung a lot.

He walked to his van, stowed his guitar mechanically, and dropped his head on his folded arms. “Idiot,” he muttered. “Damn it.” He sighed, sat up, and started the van.

TO BE CONTINUED please don’t kill me THINK OF THE FICS I CAN’T WRITE IF I DIE

Part 3 is up!

#quickspins #mlholidays2k19 #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #mlfics #promptfic

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