#There's a very small detail on the side of his head
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tbaluver · 1 day ago
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"Where Do Babies Come From?" - The Love And DeepSpace Men
pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader genre: fluff fluff + silly + scenario summary: your child(ren) ask you and your lover where babies come from requested: anonnie ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა a/n: hihi lovelies ! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)♡ posting this before the livestream that's in a couple hours ! i hope you all enjoy reading and i hope to have a couple more posts out this week ! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Xavier:
“Papa, where do babies come frwom?” The question was simple yet it struck him like a lightning bolt. His son’s innocent eyes stared up at him, waiting for an answer but he was left frozen at his spot, his mind completely blank. How could he possibly explain this? He was never prepared for this question, it was never in the parenting books he’s read when you were pregnant.
In your shared bedroom, you sat on the bed, scrolling through your phone when Xavier and your son walked in, hand in hand. Xavier held a small notebook in the other but your son darting towards you with open arms distracts you. “Mommy!” He squeals as you scoop him up and plant a sweet kiss at the top of his head.
“Mommy, me and daddy want to know where babies come from!” You blink, glancing at Xavier who sits at the edge of the bed, nodding along to his son as he opens up the notebook, ready to take notes
“You and daddy?” You ask, darting your gaze at your son and back to Xavier. “Well..when mommy and daddy love each other very much..” You trail off, choosing your words carefully. You wanted to keep it as innocent and simple as possible and it seems that your son believed you as he nodded along.
When your son ran off the play, you sighed in relief, glad to know that the topic didn’t go any more awkward than that. “So Xavier...why did you need to know?” You quirk a brow at him, as if he wasn’t also the reason you both have a son who you both love very much.
“So next time, when we have another child I’ll know what to say.”
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Zayne:
Small footsteps padded across the floor making their way towards Zayne’s home office. He sat at his desk, reviewing the slides for his upcoming conference, absorbing all the details. Zayne usually lets her play around in his office if she wants to, but if there is anything bothering her, he can always ask her.
“Daddy?” She peeks at the side of his desk, stretching up on her tippy toes so she can see him. Zayne’s attention shifts, the sound of his office chair turning so she knows his focus was fully on her. He reached out, scooping her up and settled her comfortably in his lap.
“What’s wrong dear?” He asks softly.
She tilts her, “Since you’re a doctor where do babies come from?” The question caught him off guard for a moment but it quickly softened into a smile. It’s impossible for him not to find her adorable to be so curious at this age. It reminded him of his own childhood where he would always ask his parents questions.
He clears his throat, “They come from their mother’s stomach.” A simple answer his own mother had given him when he was around her age. It was enough for him even if he hadn’t fully understood it at the time.
Her brow furrowed slightly as she processed the information, her finger tapping her lip as she thought. “But..how did the baby get there?”
Zayne chuckles softly, his heart melting at the sight of her little mind trying to piece things together. Gently, he pinches her cheek. “I promise I’ll explain it to you when you’re older, alright ?After I’m finished with this, we can go play”” He kisses the top of her head before setting her down, hoping she’ll forget about it for now.
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Rafayel:
Small feets padded their way toward their father who sat at the couch, balancing a pencil between the bridge of his nose as he concentrated on a sketch. The moment he heard their playful shrieks come closer to him, his attention shifts as he sets the sketchbook down. With arms opened wide, the children dove into his embrace, their tiny bodies crashing into him playfully.
“Daddy daddy!” One of your sons bounce up and down in excitement, his voice bubbling with curiosity.
He chuckles softly, pulling them away. “Yes my little glub glubs?” He asks as all the children snuggle closer to him. They exchange glances, deciding on who would speak first. Rafayel raises a brow, a smile tugging at his lips as he watches his children in curiosity
“Where do babies come from?” One of them suddenly asks, the other two nodded in unison, their eyes wide as they wait for their lemurian father to speak. He froze in his spot, leaving him momentarily speechless.
“Oh!” He stammered, scratching the back of his hair, smiling sheepishly. “How about you ask mommy? Y'know she’s very experienced with that.” Yes, yes he’s a genius. He dodged the question for now.
“Mommy told us to ask you!”
“Yeah! Yeah!” Another chimes in.
“She said you’re the reason we’re here!” They nodded eagerly, waiting for him to provide an answer.
“Does that make you our mommy then daddy?” The youngest asks, innocence in their eyes as well as confusion. However, the question hit him like a brick, leaving him frozen in his spot again. They completely misunderstood what you said and now his children are looking at him as if he was a male seahorse.
He blinks, “No, no I’m still daddy,” He clarifies, chuckling nervously. “What mommy means is...when me and her kiss.. in the sea, we make a seagull come and deliver you to us one by one! It’s a realllyyyy long process.”
You’re definitely going to pay him back after this.
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Sylus:
You and Sylus were nestled in the living room couch, your hand resting gently on your baby bump. While you watched a show/ movie, Sylus sat beside you, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he flipped through pages. Your little girl sat at the coffee table, creating little scenarios in her world of dolls and toys, the tiny figurines making soft clicking noises as she moved them across the table.
With a curious expression, she picked up the two dolls in each hand, one she often associated them as ‘Mommy’ and ‘Daddy’, studying both of them. Her crimson eyes flicked between the two figures and then over to their small family of children she had arranged in the playset. Her gaze shifts to your grown belly, curiosity of hers growing.
“Mommy, Daddy?” she asks, her cute little voice gaining both of your attention. She walks over to you both, her white hair tied up slightly bouncing with each step.
“What is it sweetie?” Sylus asks, lowering the papers, his crimson eyes meeting hers. She hesitates for a moment, still holding the dolls before shifting her gaze back between you both.
“Where do babies come from?” She asks innocently. The question hung in the air for a moment, catching you both off guard. It wasn’t just the question itself, but it just felt so sudden. Sylus knew that this would eventually come but he didn’t expect it to be quite so soon. Maybe he shouldn’t have bought her a room full of dolls.
“Well sweetie they come from your mother’s v-”
“AHEM.”
Looks like you’ll handle this for now and Sylus gets to sit this one out
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fushiguruuzzzz · 1 day ago
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+ CHAPTER FOUR // RUN IT BACK
series mlist 
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Tags — mentions of catcalling-ish/a creepy comment, mentions of violence, the texts and the written part don’t connect it’s sort of just two separate parts, I’m only now realizing how odd the divs look I’m apologizing but not changing it, your phone isn’t tweaking the last two images are supposed to be transparent Words — 1.3k
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The day was gloomy, the sound of downpour fading in and out with every opening of the front door. Had you been at home, your only company would be a good book and possibly a roll of raw cookie dough, maybe Nobara curled up at your side and updating you on the details of a couple in her design class. But you weren't at home, you were stuck here, surrounded by blurred faces and the smell of damp socks. You would be sure to use this against Miwa until the end of time, you told yourself. After a pathetically small amount of begging and the explanation that you think involved her boyfriend, you agreed. You knew she wasn't one to ditch out just because, so you barely bothered hearing her out before doing the favour. You were beginning to regret that.
You'd been spaced out for so long that you didnt even notice the oddly familiar head of hair, sat lowly and just almost resting on the back of the booth's seat. He stood out against the worn, ruby leather, a collection of pastels sitting on something dull and worn. Something bright and new presented to you, surrounded by familiarity. The deep lilac of his irises were trained on you, not exactly burning into you, but rather drinking you in. He wasn't harsh or searing or intimidating, he didn't make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and he didn't make you feel hot all over. He was soft, a whisper within the pitter patter of the rain, he was the warmth of coffee slipping down your throat on a cold day (even if sometimes, it ended up on the floor). 
You met his eye, and the corners of his lips tugged up into a smile. It spoke louder than words, a reminder of the fleeting experiences you’d shared without ever truly having a conversation. 
“Toge,” you greeted softly as you walked over, voice sugary sweet and laced with something he couldn’t put his finger on. 
He replied with a smile, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled as he did. “Y/n.”
“No company this time?” 
You swear that his cheeks heated up just the slightest bit, and he glanced down for a second before turning back. “No, they bring bad luck… as you could see.” 
Your brows quirked upwards playfully, hands falling down to your hips. The notepad you were holding pressed gently into your side—a reminder of what you were actually supposed to be doing. “You sure they’re the bad luck?” 
“Yes,” he said, all too quickly and all too defensive. It was hard to suppress a smile by now, and you could very easily tell that he was facing the same problem. He was inside his own head locking himself for looking like a dork, but the bigger part of him knew that he truly was. I mean, last time you’d seen him he was double fisting instant ramen and short circuiting trying to decide whether to say hi or avoid you altogether, the internal conflict sending him into overdrive and leaving him standing there like he’d stared into the eyes of Medusa. 
But he was here now, and he was functioning just fine aside from his heart speeding up. 
He gave you his order and made sure not to stutter. He watched you longingly as you disappeared into the big grey double doors that led to the back, and he beat himself up for not saying more. He had another chance though, right? And he’d be sure to take it. So when you trotted back out, hips swaying ever so slightly and the pink of your lipgloss reflecting the glow of the piercing lights above, he wasn’t going to cower away. Toge was used to being friendly, but holding a conversation… yikes.  
“…are you busy right now?” 
You glanced down from where you stood over him, catching the awkwardness in the way he shifted. You gave a soft shake of the head, motioning to the nearly empty section around you. 
“Great. So… maybe you could sit…?” he asked. He tried to feign nonchalance, but the nervous rasp in his voice was hard to miss. Something warm curled in your chest, and you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him. Not when he was staring up at you, biting his cheek and silently screaming ‘I’m not usually this awkward, I swear!’ 
Sliding into the seat across from him, the cool leather pressed into you through your pants. You didn’t even realize when you started chatting away—it just came so naturally that it the beginning and the end were blurred. It faded in and out calmly, like the tide on a warm, empty day at the beach. Talking was easy with Toge. He followed everything you said with a nod and an approving hum, made sure you knew he was paying attention. He was undeniably present, but it wasn’t loud or suffocating. He was just there, gentle and warm and fresh. If someone asked you to recount the conversation, all you could remember was the way his light hair fell in tufts over his face as he nodded at something you said. If they asked him, he’d probably be able to recite it like it was a subject he’d studied for years. 
“So…” he said, voice soft as he tried to figure out a way to bring this up. If it hadn’t been you, he didn’t want to figure that out once it was too late and embarrass himself. He also feared that if it were you, he’d look creepy—or worse, make you uncomfortable. Based on the way you’d scrambled into the darkness of the sketchy corner alley, it didn’t take a scientist to figure out you weren’t up to any good. Did he have the right to mention it? Probably not. But sometimes the curiosity in his veins ran deeper than the need to keep you comfortable, so he didn’t stop himself. “You into rock?” 
You hoped the way your eyes widened ever so slightly and your spit catching in your throat wasn’t noticeable, but it was. It shouldn’t have been such a secret, but it was just so… not you. If he liked you, he figured he liked you how he saw you now. Your hobbies were quite the opposite, and the possible backlash was enough to make the words die on your tongue. 
“Y/n!” shouted a voice from the kitchen, making your body jolt up with the relief of an excuse to swerve the topic. You slithered out of the seat with a small smile and a heated face, basically running to the back. “That should be your order. I should uh… I should get back to work. I’ll see you!” 
When you were out of view, he let out a huff. His shoulders slumped, and he rested his head on the rough table for a second. You’d gotten away for a second time. Maybe this was the last. 
But then he walked out of the diner and looked at his receipt, only to see a ten digit number scribbled into the back of it. Underneath was your name with a little smiley face. He grinned, let out a breath of victorious (maybe surprised) laughter, and put it into his pocket. 
It wasn’t the last chance he had. He didn’t know it yet, but the universe seemed to align so that he’d have many, many more. 
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Can you feel it in the air? That warmth? Yeah it’s romance
getting the story movingggg
they all thought Toge was a loser for going back
little did they know he got that bag
I apologize if these seem rushed because they somewhat are, I’m just not as motivated to write this series as I am other things :)
Also if you saw a post about this being posted at 6:40 no u didn’t.
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yep we’re back chat. I’ve been flopping lately someone kill me for Emma got like 100 notes gang I’m gonna end it ALL. tbh I feel like that was deserved it wasn’t my best but it made people cry so a win is a win (pls stop attacking me I had three people in my messages ATTACKING me at once) oh… yall aren’t gonna like what I’m cooking up.
Taglist — 47/50 (as of posting. Check masterlist)
@anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @adoresia @auroratumbles @sh0ot1ngst4r @soobin1437 @mystic-megumi @cinnamxnangel @lizbix @s3ns4ti0n4l @anonnieghost @s4toruz @gumims @bubybubsters @k4ss11333 @rreveurdoll @kaged-kitty @rwura @aldebrana @hqnge @good-mourning0 @daisies-and-domming @vi0let-writes @dazaisfavgf @hearts4aloise @coolgirl458 @keyaea @jealovsie @sirenla @academiq @mammoanlmao @moonchhu @ichcocat @blubearxy @hayl09 @q2uq2u @potteraep @fiannee @lailakys @jxisnwaol @treeguzzler @nanaanatiion @zayuriluvs @kr1nqu @cloudxox @azinniyaa @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee
— I removed the people who haven’t changed their tag settings after 3 chapters, so there’s been some space cleared up! You’ll be removed if your tags don’t work for three chapters straight, so please make sure they’re correct :) if you’ve fixed them don’t be afraid to comment and ask me to add you back
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amortxt · 2 days ago
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⠀ㅤ⠀ ⠀𖥻⠀ㅤ⠀﹫⠀choso⠀kamo.
ㅤㅤⓘㅤㅤfluff, reader and choso are in an established relationship, yuji is a child and choso's little brother, silliness ensues
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the tv speakers blasted out a laugh track from a now forgotten TV show. you and yuji sat down on the living room carpet giggling, as you uncapped the black washable markers. a playful smile on your face.
"okay yuji, i need you to sit super still for me so i don't mess this up, okay sweetie?" he nodded excitedly. his eyes shining with mischief that you chose to ignore for the better health of your mind.
the boy was practically quaking with eagerness, but he tried his very best to stay as still as possible. you dragged the marker across the bridge of his nose and onto both sides of his face, making a long rectangle against his soft skin.
you hold up a small mirror for him and his smile gets impossibly wider. "do i look good? do i look like him!?" he pokes at the marker that decorates his skin.
you pick him up and hold him into your lap, ruffling his hair as he laughs. "you look adorable! you look just like your big brother, yuji!" you hold him tight and pick up your phone and snap a photo of you and yuji together.
the door unlocks, your heads both turn and you pause the tv. yuji gets up off your lap and practically sprints to go and greet his big brother.
you could hear yuji giggling and screaming in excitement as you walked to go and greet your beloved. he had the most awestruck expression, it pulled a small chuckle out of you too.
yuji continued running around in circles, yapping on about how happy he was to have looked like his big brother. you pulled choso into a hug and gave him a kiss.
he prolonged it just a bit more and you smiled on his lips. he finally let you pull away, you two both out of breath. "this is what you two do while i'm not home?"
"i have to entertain myself somehow! maybe when yuji is away we can dye your hair pink." you made a sly grin.
his face twists and his eyebrows scrunch. he was supposed to walk into work with bright pink hair? but looking at your face, and looking at his little brother who was running around in glee from matching just the smallest detail.. how could he ever deny the two most important people in his life?
"…maybe." your face practically lights up. you energetically laugh just the same as the small child that was prancing around behind you, jumping with excitement in choso's hold. he can't help but laugh with you. yuji, overhearing your conversation came running back again to hug choso, making an "uppie" gesture, to which choso picked him up. he felt so loved, so at home.
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⠀ㅤ⠀⠀©⠀all work written by ﹫amortxt. do not repost.
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wrathofrats · 2 days ago
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Caged and always provoked (By prey left unattended)
4k, explicit, Dewdrop/Rain/Aether
Merry Christmas freak @divine-misfortune ily and I hope that all the insanity I’ve been talking about for weeks now makes sense
Read under the cut or on ao3
Warnings and tags: medical examination, medfet, trans rain and tits cunt clit and all the other stuff used for his anatomy, gill fingering, virgin rain for religious reasons, a lot of religious fuckery, groping, breast exams, dew and aether are awful medical practitioners ok, pretty dubious consent but rains cool with everything and says that, it’s fuckery ok it’s 4k of fuckery and I’ve warned you
“We have to, we can’t just let you-“ Dew rambled. He set his clipboard down with a frustrated sigh before Rain interrupted him.
“I don’t have sex.”
Aether peeked his head up from his own sheet about reviewing Dew to look down over his glasses at Rain. Sure, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, and certainly not abnormal, but considering Rain was a ghoul Aether wasn’t sure if he fully believed him.
“You’re saying that you’re a virgin?” Aether asked, before looking back over at Dew.
Or rains summoned as a virgin for his papa and his doctors want to see how far they can push him
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“He seems easy enough. Could’ve sicked that new multi on you, looked like a handful” Aether slid the chart over to Dew who was pulling at his scrub top. The name Rain was scrawled at the top along with his summoning date and element. The rest of the spots were blank, meant to be filled in at his first appointment.
“Didn’t think I could handle it?” Dew clicked the pen a couple of times, scribbling in the corner of the paper to test the ink.
“Actually now that you mention it, I probably should’ve let you take him since you were such a menace for us when you were summoned. It took 3-“
“2” Dew interrupted with a scoff
“2 nurses to hold you down. You’re lucky I picked the quiet one for you.” Aether flipped open his own packet of paper meant for his notes on how Dew was doing. He wanted to train to be a nurse, a better and more meaningful job for him as he learned to use his new fire element. This would occupy him for the time being, and keep him useful considering they were down some staff as the siblings were taken for other clergy needs.
Dew rolled his eyes, plopping the clipboard onto the small table haphazardly. He didn’t know what time this ghoul was supposed to show up, barely even caught a glimpse of him during the summoning. Usually the new ghouls were thrown into the arms of those who were more trustworthy, such as Aether and omega, before being whisked away to check in on their new bodies and elements top side. The rest of the pack usually didn’t get to meet them until there was an all clear from the medical staff.
Which, now included Dew. He loved messing with new summons when he got the chance. Mountain was easy to lure right into his bed, teasing the poor guy until he just couldn’t stand it. And now being placed at the front lines? Even with Aether keeping a close eye on him, he had to admit the idea of thoroughly checking up and down this new summons body was tantalizing.
“You know what to do right?” Aether snapped Dew out of his thoughts with the throw of a tongue depressor that hit him in the shoulder.
“Got the check list, besides you’ll be here to remind me. Even if you gave me a very detailed lesson the other ni-“ Dew snickered before another tongue depressor whizzed past his head.
“You’ll treat him with respect Dew” Aether closed the glass jar and pushed it away from him. He crossed his leg in front of him, staring at his watch to check the time.
“Whatever, I’m a professional, remember?”
“Yeah a professional idiot maybe”
Dew barely got through his eye roll as the door knob turned. A sibling opened the door, gesturing for the ghoul in front of her to walk in the room. He was shy, keeping his head down as he sat down in one of the chairs by the exam bed.
“This is Rain, already got him checked in” the sibling handed Aether a couple papers before closing the door with a soft click. Aether was right, the new thing was quiet. Easy, if he really wanted to go that far already. The water ghoul barely lifted his head up to look at them as Aether started to quickly glance over the papers he was given. Simple things like height and weight, just to rule out any more obscure problems.
He was pretty, Dew had to admit. Blue skin and silky gills along his neck, the lingering thought of Rain even knew how they felt to be touched yet, and if he could send him home with the desire to do so. Delicate fins along his ears with a mop of dark hair. The poor thing was already blushing, looking properly scared even though they hadn’t done anything to him yet. Maybe it was Aethers size, or the perpetual resting bitch face Dew seemed to carry. The cherry on top was what was in his fist, a long string of black knots and beads, ending in a wooden inverted cross.
Aether raised his eyebrow at Dew who was properly staring Rain down, motioning down to his paper that was already all sectioned out for him.
“Oh- uh, I’m going to ask you some questions Rain, just routine in case there’s anything we need to know, is that alright?”
“Yeah, that’s ok” Rain shoved the rosary into his pocket, folding his hands in his lap and watching Dew nervously. He fiddled with his fingers, eyes darting between the two.
“How was your sleep the past couple nights?”
“Slept well, it’s new but my room is comfortable. Maybe 7 hours?” Aether gave him a smile while Dew scribbled down his answer.
“What has your diet been?”
“Small fish, been craving shrimp I think,”
“Ok, sounds good uh-“ Dew squinted at his paper, reading down to make sure he had recorded what he said properly and if there was anything else to take note of before he moved on. “Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s apart of the protocol, is there any chance at all?” Rains face flushed deeper as Dew looked between him and Aether expectantly. He hesitated, biting his lip while he tried to think of what to tell them.
“No. None”
“Good, that’s fine, uh.. any chance of an STD?” The only sound in the room for a moment was the scribbling of Dews pen on the paper. Rain once again hesitated with his answer.
“No.” It came out more tense this time. Something a little more impatient about the answer.
“Perfect, what kind of protection are you using?”
“I’m not.”
Dew looked up at him with his brow furrowed. What did he mean he wasn’t? Maybe it was one of those things, where the siblings would come in and be adamant about not practicing safe sex even after Aether begged them and wonder why their tests all came back positive. If there was another rampant case of chlamydia papa would have their asses. Maybe he was just naive, nothing an awkward pamphlet couldn’t help.
“Well- if you’re not using protection then we do need to test you”
“It’s fine, trust me”
“We have to, we can’t just let you-“ Dew rambled. He set his clipboard down with a frustrated sigh before Rain interrupted him.
“I don’t have sex.”
Aether peeked his head up from his own sheet about reviewing Dew to look down over his glasses at Rain. Sure, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, and certainly not abnormal, but considering Rain was a ghoul Aether wasn’t sure if he fully believed him.
“You’re saying that you’re a virgin?” Aether asked, before looking back over at Dew.
“Yes.”
“Any reason or“
“Dew” there was a scolding tone to Aethers voice. The question was inappropriate, even if it was burning in both of their minds.
The room went silent for a second once again. Dew looked at Rain expectantly, waiting for some kind of answer. It didn’t truly matter but the curiosity was eating at him. The pretty little thing had never been touched before? What was he saving himself for?
“The Church.” Rain continued to pick at his fingernails, “was told to, they said it would make me a better servant for the clergy. For papa.”
Summonings were a fickle thing. Some of the ghouls were plucked from down below at random when needed in an emergency like Mist or the anomaly that was Cowbell, but others were chosen for it. Brought up to serve the church, practically handpicked for the band.
“Would there be any other reason for us to give you an….” Aether looked over at Dew, grabbing his papers to take his own notes, “exam of that sort?”
“No”
“Fingers? Toys? Maybe even a pillo-“ Dews leg was promptly kicked from under the table. Aether threw him a shocked look, mentally noting needing to go over how to talk to patients at a later time.
“I’m not allowed to. It would only distract me to give into those ….. desires”
Dew finally shut his mouth. The idea of asking “what kind of desires” edging their way into his brain. He couldn’t, at least not here. Aether was still staring at him, the frustrated shock of his words melting into something more curious about the ghoul who was sitting in front of them. The idea of being completely untouched was more than tempting for Dew to explore.
“Ok, that’s perfectly normal. It’s still part of protocol to give you a full physical, but in this case we won’t do any tests, just a look to be sure” Aether grabbed a pair of gloves before sliding the box to Dew, “do you mind fully undressing and putting on the gown on the table while we step out?”
It was Dews turn to look shocked. Aether was blatantly lying through his teeth, not only was a vaginal exam not necessary anyways, it especially wouldn’t be in this case. He’s not complaining, no, but the idea of Aether having his own plans about this made his heart beat even faster.
Rain nodded while Aether opened the door and motioned for Dew to step out. He still looked shocked, brows furrowed and eyes wide as he stared at Aether.
“A virgin?” Dew exclaimed once Aether finally had the door shut. “I didn’t know they did that in the pits. Keeping himself pure to please papa?”
“It’s not unheard of. River stayed untouched until he retired. In Omegas chart he mentioned having to be extra careful with him during any full body check ups” Aether watched the clock on the wall tick away, giving Rain ample time to undress and hopefully calm down a bit from being so nervous. It was cute, the bashfulness in his explanation, if Aether had half a mind he would’ve let Dew continue questioning him.
“Must be a water ghoul thing. Do you think he knows about his gills yet Aeth?”
“You’re a professional, remember Dew?”
Aether raised his eyebrow at him before giving a quick knock to the door, opening it slowly once Rain gave a meek ok. He sat up on the exam table. Ankles crossed and gown bunched awkwardly behind him in an attempt to cover himself. His clothes were folded in a neat pile on his chair, rosary sitting right next to his shoes on top.
Dew hastily snapped a couple gloves on his hands before walking up to stand between Rains legs, a little too close to be entirely clinical.
“Do you mind if I perform a bodily exam on you? we are just looking for any abnormalities we should be concerned about after your summoning” His tone was a bit quieter, something less harsh than his usual bravado.
“Please, go right ahead”
Rain reached up to undo the tie behind his neck, keeping the gown right under his breasts in order to not expose more than he needed to. His chest was small, a cute tiny pair of breasts with dusky little nipples that Dew was trying hard not to completely gawk at. He was a pretty thing, lithe body with a couple curves.
Dew pulled down the gown completely, letting the front section sit in his lap with his arms tight to his body. His cheeks were flushed a deep purple, eyes darting around to anywhere besides Dew.
“Going to have to ask you to lift your arms over your head for me, I need to see the gills on your abdomen” Dew reached beneath the bed to pump a small amount of lubricant on his fingers, rubbing them together to spread it evenly. The gesture looked, felt, dirty. Even if Rain was still in the assumption that it was completely innocent he couldn’t help how his mind wandered as he watched the blue latex shine.
There was a second of hesitation before Rain reached his arms over his head. Dews warm hand pressed down against his stomach, moving inch by inch to his side. Gloved fingers glided delicately over the soft fragile skin of Rains gills. Practically petting over them before dipping just the finger tip in as Rain gave a quiet gasp. He twitched Into the touch before quickly pulling away again.
“Are you alright Rain?” Aether looked from Dew to Rain, noting how he almost looked flustered. Lip between his teeth and the flush creeping down his chest. Dew turned and gave him a knowing look, pushing just a millimeter further in to watch him struggle.
“I’m fine, his hands are just … a bit cold” Rains lips turned into a tight line. He hoped neither of them would push back against such a bad lie, hell Dews hands were probably just on the uncomfortable side of too warm if Rain was being honest. Something sparked in his abdomen as Dew slid his fingers from side to side beneath the thin skin, eyes focusing intently as if he were looking for something.
“No pain? They seem fine otherwise. Nice color, not too loose, some amount of lubrication.” Dew mumbled in Aethers direction for him to write down, “I’ve heard of other water ghouls gills getting dried out from summoning, yours are slick though which is good”
Aether scribbled a couple notes down on his paper while Dew shot him a cocky look and pulled his fingers out of Rains gills, wiping his fingers off on a paper towel. Rain could see whatever came off of his hands shine in the white light of the room, embarrassment creeping up his cheeks. Sure there was the thought of what would happen if he pushed his fingers into his gills himself but the thoughts always came with a night of prayer and maybe a cold shower afterwards.
He didn’t need to be thinking like that. He was healthy and he should be happy, not letting Dews words make him feel light headed. What would papa think?
Rain brought his arms back down to rest his hands in his lap. The air was cold even if Rains body felt impossibly hot. Goosebumps prickled at his skin while Dew put on a fresh pair of gloves. His instinct was to cover himself again, no one had ever seen him this vulnerable, especially not two people at once.
“Still with us? You’re quieter than most of the other ghouls we have in here” Aether spoke up after a second of watching Rain stare intently at Dews hands while he put on his gloves. Rain jumped a little, looking back at Aether with wide eyes.
“Just don’t talk much, I’ve always been told I’m quiet”
“But you’ll speak up if you’re uncomfortable right?”
Rain gave him a solid nod. Aether pushed his glasses back up his face and crossed his legs in front of him to rest his clipboard on. Even beyond Rains racing thoughts he looked devastatingly clinical, Dew as well who was dressed in blue scrubs. Something to keep him grounded, remind him why he was there.
Dew stepped in front of him once again. His hands grabbed along his arms, pushing at his shoulders. They practically rubbed down his sternum in a way that made Rain shiver. Warm hands pressed into his ribs looking for any signs of pain or discomfort.
He took a deep breath as Dew finally made it up to his breast, palms kneading into the supple flesh with a careful eye. Rains fingers dug into the paper on the table with a sickening crunch. Aether immediately noticed how he practically stopped breathing, going entirely still with his lip between his teeth.
Dew tried to pretend he was being entirely professional, every pull and knead being necessary even if the pressure lingered until Rain finally squirmed under his touch, making Dew move on to the next area he was supposed to be examining.
“Seem sensitive” Dew practically hissed through his teeth. The professional demeanor was slowly coming unraveled the more he was able to see what his touch was doing to Rain. A blushing virgin practically losing his composure beneath him just from groping his tits. It was taking all of his self control not to just push him back onto the table and hike the gown over his hips.
Dew was getting ahead of himself. A particularly rough grab as he got lost in thought had Rain writhing off the table.
“Jus- just a bit- ah!” Rains thighs clamped together, chest debating on pulling away or pushing into the rough sensation. Dew was properly pulling at his nipples now, rough calloused fingers pinching the pretty buds just to keep drawing small forced noises from the back of Rains throat.
The gown had fully slipped down and threatened to slide off of his lap if he wasn’t careful. Small neat trail of hair along his navel with a couple dark curls peeking from behind the plastic. Rain knew he was about to be exposed if he made one wrong move, but couldn’t bring himself to grab the gown to cover himself again, not when Dew was touching him like this.
Rain shot a look towards Aether in a small plea for him to do something. Aether looked shocked, pen sitting idly in his hand as he stared blatantly at Rains chest while Dew worked. He should probably step in, pull Dew off and let Rain catch his breath but god he looks like he’s thoroughly enjoying himself and he puts on such a nice show that Aether doesn’t think he can intervene.
“Soft, probably feels so good, doesn’t it Rain?” Dew was almost impossibly close to him by now, both hands groping him and breath hot on his neck, “really never done this for yourself, never let yourself feel good?”
The words made Rains bRain turn off for a solid couple seconds. Whatever air of keeping things chaste and clinical now unraveling as Dew tugged on Rains nipples. He couldn’t deny the small sparks of electricity that ran through him with the pain of Dews pinching and pulling, couldn’t deny that it made his head feel fuzzy and stomach feel hot even if he wanted to.
“Not supposed to” Rains voice was meek. Sure he wanted to, but it was wrong. Sinful. Body dedicated to his papa but oh being touched like this was absolutely delicious. Even if it was just his breasts, something he had done in the shower more than a couple times with the excuse of making sure he was healthy even if his hands lingered, much like what Dew was doing now.
“You’ve never thought about it? Never considered giving into the desire?”
“I have” the admission struggled to come out. Like saying the words out loud were enough to damn him completely. “It’s wrong- not supposed to need or want anything more than papa”
Dew felt a little bad at the laugh that got forced out of him. A bit cruel especially as he pushed Rains tits together just to thumb at the cleavage, more just for the sake of doing it and to see Rain squirm than any other reason. The whole persona of medical professionalism had been thrown out the window the second he was even allowed to touch him there, and hell, Aether didn’t seem like he was going to stop him.
“Afraid you’ll just become addicted? Won’t be able to keep those hands away from this pretty little body of yours?” Dew gave another squeeze to Rains tits before skating them lower and lower, hovering over the only thing still covering any amount of modesty Rain had left.
Rain let out a shocked gasp as Dew pushed him down onto his back, legs maneuvered to be fully spread in front of him. The flimsy gown fell haphazardly onto the floor along with Aethers pen that had been dropped as he watched the scene in front of him. Rains legs pulled apart and cunt practically on display, slick coating him in a way that could only be described as obscene. Even for a water ghoul, it was more than a bit surprising to see how wet he had gotten from Dews hands on his gills and chest.
“See? Cunts just aching for it isn’t it?” A gloved finger slid between Rains folds, practically gathering the arousal and letting it drip down the latex, “Can feel you twitching. Give in, ask for it.”
Rains body was trembling. Legs shaking as Dew dipped the tip of his fingers inside of him for him to clench around. That’s all he had ever done himself. A couple of slow pets and maybe just the tip of his finger before he could come back to his right mind and stop himself. A night trying to deny what he really wanted, how he craved for something to be inside of him in a way that prayer just couldn’t take the edge off of.
“Papa wouldn’t allow it, my bodies for him”
“But it feels good doesn’t it Rain?” Dews fingers fully pushed inside of him. He was hot, beyond tight as he clamped down and let out a strangled sound. His thumb pressed against Rains clit earning a gasp that was forced from the back of Rains throat.
“So good-!”
Dews fingers pumped in and out of him slowly, scissoring apart to see if he could get him any looser. Dew could pass out if he thought about it too hard, his fingers being the first to open up the water ghouls virgin cunt? The thought had him about to shove down his scrub pants and be the one to fuck him first as well. He tried to maintain his composure, looking back at Aether who had a hand on top of his bulge, palming himself through his pants.
“Let yourself feel good, come on baby, give into those sick desires I know you have” there was an awful wet squelching sound coming from Rains cunt, slick dripping down onto the exam table as Dew rubbed fast circles into his clit.
“Please- need more” Rains hips canted off of the table, practically trying to hump Dews hand as he pumped his fingers in and out of him “don’t tell papa please-“
“Oh but Dew, it’s not supposed to feel good, it’s just an exam” Aether had gotten up to stand by his side, white coat discarded on the chair and clearly still hard.
What was he even getting at? He pulled apart Rains cunt to get a look at how Dews fingers slid in and out of him with ease, cold air of the room only making Rain feel more exposed while Aether practically gawked at him.
“It’s not?” Dew stalled his movements, Rain giving a small noise of protest beneath him.
“No, its entirely medical remember? since we are supposed to be keeping him pure, papas orders” Aether said like it should’ve been obvious. Maybe it should have been honestly, Aether pushed a finger of his in next to Dews making Rain arch off the table with the stretch. With the way he clamped down he was surely close already, never been touched and now being stretched wide on three fingers, “maybe the poor things just too far gone if he’s feeling this good. If he was truly devoted he would be still, wouldn’t ask for more. It’s a shame that we will have to inform papa”
Dew pressed a bit harder on his clit, fingers crooking up against that sweet spot he wasn’t sure if Rain even knew he had. Before he could stop it, Rain was spasming around Aether and Dews fingers, a small cry leaving his lips as he completely soaked the paper on the table
“Oh well that’s certainly not normal” Aether removed his hand, disposing of the glove in the trash can without another beat while Dew debated licking his clean, “a true disciple wouldn’t do that, would they?”
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bokutosbabe · 9 hours ago
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for your new event may i suggest chigiri and for the emojis i pick 🫐 🍰
of course!
a chigiri hyoma blueberry cake slice :)
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જ⁀♡⊹。° i'll build a wall
♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event :)
♡ content — chigiri hyoma x gn! reader, gn! reader, chigiri is a little shit, very anxious reader, lowkey they hate each other for a bit, cuddling, open ending ( but it is meant to be happy :) )
♡ synopsis — you wouldn't say you hate chigiri hyoma...you just hated you had to share a living space with him
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You didn’t know what was worse—the fact that you’d been paired with Chigiri Hyoma for the marriage simulation program or the fact that he seemed so unbothered about it.
While you were stressing over the details, pacing back and forth with the program’s rules in hand, he leaned against the doorframe of your shared apartment, arms crossed, wearing a faintly amused expression.
“You’re overthinking it,” he said, his soft voice carrying an easy confidence that only made you feel more flustered.
“I’m not overthinking anything!” you shot back. “This is a month-long program. We have to work together, pretend we’re married, and follow all these rules. It’s not as simple as you’re making it out to be.”
Chigiri raised an eyebrow. “It’s fake. It’s not that deep.”
“Easy for you to say,” you muttered. “You’re not the one who has to deal with you.”
That earned you a small smirk. “I could say the same thing.”
You two hadn't even gotten the chance to look around the rest of the apartment yet.
What else could go wrong?
“Are you kidding me?”
Your voice echoed in the small bedroom as you stared at the lone bed sitting innocently in the center of the room. It wasn’t even a queen—it was a full-sized bed, barely big enough for two people to sleep without constantly bumping into each other.
Chigiri stood beside you, one hand resting on the doorframe as he tilted his head, examining the room. “Guess they weren’t joking about fostering intimacy,” he said, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.
“This can’t be real,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair. You spun around to face him, pointing at the bed like it had personally offended you. “There’s no way we’re sharing that.”
Chigiri raised an eyebrow, his expression unbothered as usual. “Do you see another option? Unless you’re volunteering to sleep on the floor.”
You shot him a glare. “Why don’t you sleep on the floor?”
He smirked faintly. “I don’t think that’s what the program had in mind. Besides, it’s just sleeping. Don’t tell me you’re scared of cooties or something.”
Your face burned. “I’m not scared of anything! I just think it’s… inappropriate.”
“We’re pretending to be married,” he pointed out. “This isn’t exactly the time to be hung up on personal space.”
You crossed your arms, still glaring at the bed like you could will it to magically split in two. “Fine. But you stay on your side, and I mean it.”
Chigiri held up his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever you say, boss.”
The rest of the day passed in a blur of unpacking and adjusting to the reality of your shared living situation. The apartment was small but cozy, with a kitchenette, a tiny dining area, and a living room that doubled as a study space.
Chigiri moved through it all with the same effortless grace he always seemed to have, while you tried your best not to let his calm demeanor get under your skin.
By the time night rolled around, you were too tired to argue anymore.
You stood awkwardly by the bed, clutching a spare blanket you’d found in the closet. “Okay, so… I’ll take this side, and you take that side. And no crossing the line.”
“What line?” Chigiri asked, clearly amused.
You grabbed a pillow and placed it lengthwise down the middle of the bed. “This line.”
He chuckled softly. “Alright, if it makes you feel better.”
The first night was… tense.
You lay on your side of the bed, clutching the blanket like it was your last line of defense. Chigiri was on the opposite side, facing away from you, his breathing steady and even.
You tried to relax, but the awareness of his presence was impossible to ignore. The bed wasn’t big enough to create a proper distance, and every shift he made sent a ripple through the mattress.
“Relax,” he said suddenly, his voice low in the dark. “You’re not going to fall off the edge.”
“I’m not tense,” you lied.
“Sure,” he said, a hint of laughter in his tone. “Goodnight, then.”
“Goodnight,” you muttered, closing your eyes and willing sleep to come quickly.
The next morning, you woke up to the unfamiliar sensation of warmth.
Blinking groggily, you realized with a start that you were no longer on your side of the bed. Somehow, during the night, you had shifted closer to the middle—and so had Chigiri.
Your face was inches away from his, his soft, even breathing brushing against your cheek. One of his arms was draped casually over your waist, and his hair, always silky and perfectly styled, was slightly mussed from sleep.
Your heart leapt into your throat.
How did this happen?
You froze, unsure of what to do. If you moved, you’d wake him up. If you stayed still, you’d have to endure the way your cheeks burned as you became increasingly aware of how close you were.
Before you could make a decision, Chigiri stirred, his eyelashes fluttering as he slowly opened his eyes.
For a moment, he looked at you, his expression soft with lingering sleep. Then his eyes widened slightly, and he pulled back, sitting up with a startled look.
“Uh… morning,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Morning,” you said, your voice higher than usual.
There was a long, awkward pause as you both avoided each other’s eyes.
“I guess we, uh, move a lot in our sleep,” he said finally, scratching the back of his head.
“Yeah, must be,” you said quickly, sitting up and throwing the blanket off yourself. “Anyway, let’s forget this ever happened.”
Chigiri gave a small smile, his usual composure returning. “Sure. Whatever you say.”
But as you went about your morning routine, you couldn’t shake the memory of how natural it had felt—waking up next to him, the warmth of his arm around you. And from the way Chigiri glanced at you when he thought you weren’t looking, you had a feeling he was thinking the same thing.
From that morning onward, the dynamic between you began to shift. There was a newfound warmth in Chigiri’s actions—a softening of the sharp edges you had initially bristled against.
And as the days turned into weeks, you found yourself no longer dreading the nights.
You still started on opposite sides of the bed, but more often than not, you’d wake up tangled together, neither of you pulling away.
By the end of the simulation, the lines between what was fake and what was real had blurred beyond recognition. And when Chigiri looked at you during the final presentation, his gaze filled with something you couldn’t quite name, you realized you didn’t want it to end.
“I learned that sometimes, the best partnerships come from the most unexpected places,” he said, his voice steady but soft. “And that trust is built, not given—but when it’s there, it’s worth everything.”
His words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. And as you left the program hand in hand, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was only the beginning.
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this was such a late night write session
i hope you liked it!
likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!
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animeshades1 · 6 months ago
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Self insert w/lore ig -Eddie
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ambros1an · 7 months ago
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sunday x reader - halovian courtship
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warning: no spoilers, gn! reader, pining/soft sunday, Sunday info dumping as usual
summary: where Sunday will do everything except confess, and you just think he’s emotionally stunted.
a/n: i read about birds for this
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halovian courting rituals
1. Gift giving. Like their close bird companions, Halovians participate in 'nuptial gifts,' a form of gift giving to a potential partner.
You were walking into the Oak Family Headquarters, Dewlight Pavilion, sent to deliver some letters. Although, you’ve been here before, it was still a bit nerve wracking to be in such a place, undetached from your usual position as a lower end employee.
The entrance to Oak Family Head’s office was right in front of you. You bite your lip, shifting the documents to your other arm and knock.
“Nightingale Famil-“
The door swings open. The family head holding the door stands to the side.
“Ah,” Sunday says your name, “it’s you.”
Your eyes widen, blinking a couple times. He remembers me?
“Yes, it’s nice to see you again Mr. Sunday. I’ve come with documents from the Nightingale family detailing a new plan for the dreamscape.”
He looks a bit disappointed?
He chuckles, then calls out to a lone employee, “you’re dismissed for today, I’ll take care of the rest.”
The Oak employee dips his head and leaves. Watching him leave fills a pit in your stomach.
“Mr. Sunday, is something wrong?”
Sunday sits up suddenly, “Oh, no. Not at all.” It’s that movement that makes you realize that he’s been fidgeting with something in his lap…Is he always like this?
“I guess I was just a bit surprised,” he smiles, looking down to the side. You caught him.
“Surprised? To see me?” Although Sunday and you have met a few times. It was always business, just like now—well maybe he did stare a bit intently at you before, but something really was different this time!
He looks up and sheepishly slides a box across the table. “Take it as…being a good part of The Family.”
For a few moments, your eyes set upon him. What is he planning? It’s a small box. Almost nothing could fit in there. You lift the top up.
You gasp. Earrings worth more than your entire life’s salary. You slam it shut.
“M-Mr. Sunday. This really isn’t necessary. I just—“ you ramble on. Sunday places his gloved hand on yours.
“Please, take it.”
Looking into his eyes, you realize that putting up a fight with the Oak Head won’t get you anywhere. You reluctantly take the box.
2. Preening. Similar to nature, touching a Halovian's wings is an intimate gesture to show one's interest in a romantic partner. Someone should never touch a Halovian's wings without asking!
Soon after, you come across Sunday again. This time at the Nightingale Family’s institution. You were putting away blueprints, plans and documents your coworkers left laying around haphazardly. When a familiar voice calls out to you.
“Good evening. Working hard, I see.”
“Mr. Sunday?”
He approached you, then looked around the room. He seemed to realize the situation you were in and scorned your coworkers. He mumbled something about you and moving to the “Oak Family.” As he spoke his wings were fluttering. They looked smooth and soft.
“You’ve been staring at my wings. Do they interest you that much?” He chuckles.
“Well, they are very pretty but—“
“Would you like to touch them?” A light blush spreads across his face. Despite that, he seemed perfectly poised. His hands clasped behind his back, standing straight and looking right at you.
“I-is that alright?” tumbles from your lips. You hesitantly reach out.
“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”
Upon touching them, Sunday’s wings twitched away from you before settling down. The feathers are soft and plush. Some are darker in color while others are more pale. They’re surprisingly fluffy. A bit like fur but more delicate.
The blush darkened, his gaze shifted off to the wall. His composure utterly broken, his hands fidgeted behind his back.
“Did you know that birds groom each other as a social activity? It occurs between…ma-members of a flock.” He sputters. What is he saying?
Your fingers stroking his feathers create a flutter within his stomach. He leans into the touch. Taking that as a sign to continue, you reach farther up, a light brush into the coverts of his feathers. Sunday gasps and pulls away.
“…You must take good care of them. Are all Halovian wings soft like yours?”
He wishes that moment would never end.
3. Song. During courtship rituals many birds of different species tend to sing and dance. While that is popular among Halovian people, some may chose show affection through instruments instead.
One day, a notice appears at your door. Upon examining it you realize it’s an invitation from Sunday, instructing you to his office within the Dewlight Pavilion.
Could it be about the documents you sent him last time? You wrack your brain for any possible explanation. He had been acting weirder than usual.
Heat build up in your face upon recalling Sunday’s recent appreciation for you. The earrings that are far too expensive to wear anywhere, and even worse—you bury your face into your hands. In a profound display of unprofessionalism, he let you touch his wings.
Still, every muscle in your body jittered with excitement, even though it shouldn’t.
♫ ♬ ♩
Suddenly, the closer you got, the more the hallway echoed with the sound of a violin. Slowly, you carefully stepped towards the sound, till you found its source.
Sunday was playing the violin. You couldn’t help but freeze where you were and watch him. He truly did look like angel. As he drew his bow across the strings, the light from the window shined down on him. His hair reflected the light appearing almost white. Was he always this beautiful?
Abruptly, he stands up, “You’re early. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you closed the door behind you, “I didn’t know you could play. What song was it?”
He places the violin down on his table and approached you, “It’s ‘Salut d’amor,’ one of the first pieces I learned how to play,” Sunday put his hand behind his back, “the dream master was the one that taught me.”
“It was very pretty, I can tell you’ve been playing for a long time.”
“Thank you.” A light blush spreads onto his cheeks, but it’s gone before you can realize it.
A loud silence sweeps the room. The two of you avert your eyes. This side of Sunday feels so different from what you’ve been told. He always maintains a professional barrier. But if so, what was this?
Sunday calls your name, “how do you feel about me?”
“What?” The question is so out of the blue, you must’ve heard wrong, “I think you’re a nice guy—“
“I meant as a partner, I thought you knew. Was I not obvious enough?” He mumbles over the last sentence.
“I—well—“ you stumble over your words. He was serious. The earrings, the wing touching, the invitation. You dismissed it as him buttering you up. The ‘most handsome man in Penacony’ as delegated by the latest magazines, had feelings for you?
Your face felt so hot, you felt as if you could combust into flames at any moment, “I feel the same.”
His expression softened. “That’s a relief, I don’t have to cancel those reservations then.”
“Reservations?! Mr. Sunday-“
“Just Sunday. I’ll pick you up later then,” he smiled, then placed his hand near your ear, as if looking for something, “Oh, but this time remember to wear those earrings.”
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a/n #2: soft Sunday is real, did u see how protective he was of Robin in the quest? i need more hoyo. feed my delusion
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bi-writes · 5 months ago
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Could we get some Simon POV on mail order bride reader? Perhaps his thoughts on how timid she is?? Pls and thanks!
mail-order bride
it is something that he knows as soon as you step over the threshold for the very first time. he's observant to a fault; he can't be surprised by anything because he pays too much attention to the small details, to the things no one gives a second glance.
the way your head whips around when a loud noise carries across the room. the way you jump when you weren't expecting him behind you, crowding your space. the soft way you talk, the way you constantly try to make yourself disappear when there are others in your vicinity.
it speaks volumes, this kind of behavior. this intense need to appease others, to not disturb them, tiptoeing to gauge reaction to make sure you haven't done anything wrong, that you haven't upset anyone.
simon knows this kind of timidness all too well. he sees the veil that you wear, the kind that flutters when a hand is raised; he recognizes it, and you are a reflection of a woman that he used to know.
a woman he used to look up to. one that he loved, and one that loved him back.
the more time he spends with you, the more unlike himself he feels, the more aware he is of the other half of himself that is so far away from him, a stranger. never in simon's life has he felt that same burning anger. he's never felt the need to make those around him afraid. he's never relished in being the bigger man, the stronger one--and when the voices get loud enough, he still remembers being the boy who hid under his bed until he was too big to fit underneath it.
so he makes his steps louder. he shuffles his feet on the carpet. he makes them heavier, soft thuds that can be heard in the hardwood of the kitchen.
he makes noise. in whatever room he's in, he makes it known. the clatter of his toothbrush into its holder. the metal scratch of hangers as he gets a jacket. the clatter of a mug in the sink. the thunk of his boots by the door.
you stop flinching. you stop looking over your shoulder. the sounds of his boots coming off, it brings you into the living room to greet him. when you hear his toothbrush in the bathroom, you shuffle inside so you can stand beside him and do the same. when you hear him in the kitchen, you always pad into the room, giving him those big, soft eyes and asking him for the millionth time if he needs help (no, go fuckin' sit down, too pretty to be workin').
there is a woman in simon's life who used to do the same. who used to be too scared of the world to ever live in it. who never got the chance to unlearn all of the ugly that the wrong man had taught her.
simon grabs the canvas bags in the closet, tossing them over his shoulder as he makes his way to the door.
"we're goin' t'be late," simon calls out. "won't 'ave the bread y'like 'f we don't leave now."
"coming! coming!"
you hurry into the living room, shrugging on your cardigan as you go for your purse hanging by the front door. you slip into your shoes, following simon as he walks out the door.
when simon makes his way down the steps, he expects to have to tell you to stop, to let him walk down the steps first so he can give you his hand; but when he turns, you're waiting there at the top of the steps, fiddling with your purse. he holds out his hand, and you take it on instinct, without even looking, letting him guide you until you've made it to the pavement and can walk to the car.
and when you make it to the passenger side, you're standing at an angle, putting your earrings on as you wait for simon to open your door.
as you wait.
after simon pulls the seatbelt around you and clicks it closed, he lingers, staring at you as you try and fix your hair in the rearview mirror. you pause, looking down at him, giggling.
"what is it, simon? i-is there something on my face?"
he sighs deeply, shaking his head. he lifts a hand, cupping your cheek, swiping a thumb under your eye before stepping back to close your door.
"no," simon mutters. "look bloody perfect."
there's no past with you. only present.
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luveline · 6 months ago
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Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff
thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k
James Potter means well. Honestly, you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart. 
Unfortunately, your attempts to do so don’t work. They really, unquestionably don’t. By the time you’re outside of Sirius’ flat that afternoon, James’ small comment is all you can think of. 
“You’re so chatty I’m surprised you don’t run out of breath,” he’d said. Not without love. You’d bumped into him in Sainsbury’s and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, you’d even say you were friends, though he’s of course Sirius’ friend rather than your own. “But I’m the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, he’d be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.” 
You can’t imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, they’re the most in love threesome of friends you’ve ever met, and it’s nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. It’s like a constant demonstration of how he’s a good man. 
But you’d never stopped to consider that they weren’t always so seamless, and you’ve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off. 
You talk to Sirius about everything. There isn’t a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know he’ll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. You’ve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back. 
But… what if, this whole time, he’s been wishing for a little bit of quiet? 
What if eventually, the talking becomes too much? 
He must be with you for a reason. You aren’t holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like he’s mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder). 
Like now —you knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, you’re not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip. 
“Hey,” Sirius says, tucking you against his side, “hey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?” He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. “Sorry I couldn’t see you. I don’t think we should miss another weekend.” 
You have a lot to tell him. It’s been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but James’ conversation stays at the front of your mind. 
You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. “I don’t think so, either.” 
Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing. 
You’re at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isn’t propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf. 
“Mostly I wished I’d asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?” he asks. 
“Of course we can.” You smile at him indulgently. “I’d come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.” 
“Or I can come to you,” he says, “even if it’s just twenty minutes.” 
He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss. 
“So,” he asks, his breath on your lips, “how was your weekend? Lonely?” 
“So lonely,” you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. “But it was okay. I missed you, really, and didn’t do much else.”
“No?” he asks. 
Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, “Missed your hands.”  
“I missed your everything.” He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. “But everything was okay?” he asks more seriously. 
“Everything was fine.” 
He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. “Well, okay. Good, sweetheart, I’m glad it was okay.” 
He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though you’d like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be. 
Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers. 
“I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong,” he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, “before it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?” 
“Nothing’s wrong.” 
“Please don’t, lovely. If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we can’t do that if you won’t tell me when I upset you.” 
“It wasn’t you,” you say instinctively, then regret it. 
“So someone has?” he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like he’s sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep it to yourself… please.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“Sweetheart.” He frowns deeply. Couldn’t look more upset. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” 
You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. “Well, I saw James today at the shop, and… we were talking about you…” 
He waits. “And?” 
“And he told me you– you don’t like talking. That you didn’t like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and you’ve never made me feel like I shouldn’t, but I guess I got into my head thinking you’d get sick of me, too.” 
“When we were younger I didn’t like much of anything.” He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but it’s not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. “Did you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?” 
“What?” 
“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, you’d–” He laughs near your cheek. “I hated everything. It wasn’t James’ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.” He breathes out slowly. “I’ve never wanted to hide from you. I can’t get sick of you. Do you get that? I can’t get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, you’re my personal chatterbox.” 
“Chatterbox,” you repeat teasingly. 
“You could talk for Wales,” he says. “And I love it, I don’t want you to stop, because I’ll never be sick of it.”
“I don’t want it to be some secret resentment.”
“I don’t resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.” He takes your face again. “I love it,” he repeats. 
You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. “What was the poem?” you ask. 
“I’ll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?” He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. “I miss your voice.” 
He’s basically pleading. It’s not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him. 
“Can I have my dinner first?” 
“The one I made while you deprived me?” he asks. “Yes, if you must.” 
He takes another kiss, but you’re happy to give it. 
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madammidnightsblog · 8 months ago
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Yandere Mailman X Sleepy Darling
Yandere Mailman fell in love with you the first time he was sent to work in your neighborhood and caught you sluggishly walking out of your house to get the mail. He watched you walk out onto the wooden porch with your blanket wrapped around you and your hair a mess for napping, it was your day off from a busy week at the office so that was a very much needed nap. Yandere Mailman was taken away by how cute you looked with drool stains down your chin and the sleepy look on your adorable face as he watched you from across the street. He just wanted to scoop you right up and pull you into his mail truck and take you home. Yandere Mailman who memorized your address and the white painted fence with what looked like fake plants decorating your front porch as they looked too green for someone who never was home. It was burned into the back of his head and how couldn't? The owner was just so cute! Yandere Mailman gets so jealous when he sees all the envelops that were filled out in such pretty handwriting of yours, addressing to a man at a military base- he didn't care that it was your brother that you were writing too (he didn't open them and read them, what kind of person would invade such privacy? their seals just happened to be broken- okay?) You shouldn't be writing to any man! Yandere Mailman just can't help but take those letters you send to your brother and his letters; you shouldn't talk to him- he left you after all, right? If he cared, he wouldn't be away and stayed by your side. That's what you do for those you love and no, he totally didn't jerk off to your letters because you went into detail about how excited you were to go to the beach with your friends and how you bought at new swimsuit for it- okay! Yandere Mailman who sits outside in his mail truck he parked across the street with his dick in his hand, jerking off as he watched you once again sluggishly walked outside to get the mail. The adorable, tired expression of yours and how you're wearing such small night shorts and that big loose t-shirt, it just has him throbbing every time. Yandere Mailman who cums once you noticed the unmarked envelope he left for you, watching the once sleepy expression turn into a confused one. It was just so damn cute, and he couldn't help it, knowing you're opening it and reading the little love letter he made with your chubby cheeks turning red. His balls were squeezed in his free hand while the other moved in a fast and sloppy pattern until he makes a mess all over his hand. Yandere Mailman makes sure you memorize the days you're home in the mornings and leaves little love letters that are totally are normal! They might talk about how much he loves your adorable little face and how your hair is just so damn pretty that he wants to play with it and how he wants to see your little sleepy face sucking him off while you're barely awake, drooling and sleepily blink up at him as he helps you since you're just so tired.
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reidmarieprentiss · 1 month ago
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Depollute Me
Summary: You join the BAU and Spencer is a smitten kitten.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader
Category: fluff
Warnings/Includes: mentions of morgue details from a case, mentions of struggle from a case, alcohol consumptions
Word count: 7.2k
a/n: lol so this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS i have not read it since then but i feel so bad for never posting anymore so please accept this while i get my life together !!!
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Spencer walked into the bullpen on what seemed to be a very typical Monday morning. The hum of chatter and the rhythmic clicking of keyboards filled the air, as it usually did. Without much thought, he placed his well-worn satchel down on his desk, the familiar weight leaving his shoulder as he began his habitual routine. His focus was singular: getting to the breakroom for his morning coffee. The scent of freshly brewed coffee guided him, and within moments, he returned to his desk, ready to dive into the day's work.
As he settled into his chair, Spencer reached for a stack of files when a voice interrupted his concentration. "Reid, did you not notice the new girl?" Morgan's tone was laced with curiosity and a hint of amusement, causing Spencer to pause mid-motion.
“Huh?” Spencer finally looked up, his mind still partially entangled in the tasks he was about to undertake. His routine had been so ingrained that he hadn’t even glanced around the room.
Morgan smirked, nodding towards the far side of the bullpen. "Over by JJ’s office."
Spencer's gaze followed the direction Morgan indicated, and for the first time, he noticed you. A young woman, probably in her mid twenties, was standing near JJ's office, dressed in a sharp, well-tailored pantsuit that hugged her figure in a way that was both professional and undeniably flattering. Your presence was commanding, yet you seemed approachable with an air of confidence.
“Who is that?” Spencer asked, his curiosity piqued as he observed the new arrival with a mixture of intrigue and surprise.
Before Morgan could answer, Hotch, who happened to be walking by at that moment, interjected in his usual calm, authoritative manner. “Agent Y/N Y/L/N,” he informed them, his tone as steady as ever. “She’s from the Sex Crimes Unit, a promising young agent.”
Morgan, ever the one to tease, leaned back in his chair with a playful grin. “Looks like you’re not the baby anymore, pretty boy.”
Spencer, though still focused on the new agent, managed to respond with a slight shrug. “I’m okay with that.” His voice was soft, but there was a hint of relief in his words. Perhaps the idea of no longer being the youngest on the team was a comforting thought.
Hotch, who was moving on to another task, paused briefly to add one more detail, as if to settle any lingering questions. “She’s older than you, Reid. Actually.”
Morgan, not missing a beat, raised an eyebrow. “How old? She looks good,” he remarked, his eyes still on you, appreciating your composed demeanor and striking appearance.
Hotch, always the voice of reason and decorum, shot Morgan a warning look. “Morgan,” he cautioned, before continuing, “she’s 28.”
“I’m almost 28…” Spencer mumbled, more to himself than anyone else, as if to rationalize his place on the team.
“Okay, baby,” Morgan teased, chuckling as he reached over to playfully ruffle Spencer’s hair. The affectionate gesture was a typical part of their dynamic, one that Spencer had grown accustomed to over the years.
Spencer gave a small smile, shaking his head slightly at Morgan's teasing, but his mind was already drifting back to the new agent. There was something about you that intrigued him, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to work alongside you. The idea of no longer being the youngest wasn’t as unsettling as it once might have been.
“Agents, round table, five minutes,” Hotch’s voice cut through the usual hum of activity in the bullpen. The announcement was direct, as always, leaving no room for delay or distraction. Spencer, along with the rest of the team, immediately began to gather their things, each of them accustomed to the rhythm of their work.
As the team filed into the conference room and took their usual seats around the round table, there was an undercurrent of curiosity in the air. Eyes subtly darted towards the new face at the table, though the attempts at being inconspicuous were, in truth, anything but. It was clear that everyone was eager to learn more about the person who would be joining their tight-knit group.
Hotch, standing at the head of the table, wasted no time in addressing the elephant in the room. “As you have all noticed, we have a new member joining the team,” he began, his voice steady as he motioned towards you. “This is Agent Y/N Y/L/N. She’s joining us from Sex Crimes.”
A chorus of greetings filled the room, each team member offering their version of “hello” or “welcome.” Despite the collective effort to make you feel at ease, Spencer couldn’t tear his gaze away from you. His usual reserved nature gave way to an inexplicable fascination with your confident yet soft demeanor. The way you met each person’s eyes with a small, genuine smile only deepened his curiosity.
As Hotch briefed the team, Spencer’s thoughts kept drifting back to you. He noticed how attentively you listened, your calm focus suggesting you were already a step ahead. His mind wandered, wondering about your experiences, your approach, and who you were beyond the BAU walls.
When your eyes briefly met his, Spencer felt a jolt of something unfamiliar. The room seemed to fade as he quickly looked down, warmth creeping up his neck. It was unusual for him to be so distracted during a briefing, but there was something about you that he couldn’t quite place.
As the team dispersed, Spencer hesitated, glancing at you again. He wondered if you had noticed his lapse in concentration, but your calm, professional expression gave nothing away. Now, he couldn’t help but feel both eager and off balance, curious about how you would fit into the team—and what that might mean for him.
It was your first away case with the team, and as you boarded the jet, the weight of newness settled on your shoulders. The BAU team moved with the ease of seasoned travelers, each member instinctively knowing their place and routine. You, on the other hand, hesitated, unsure of where to sit, not wanting to take anyone's usual spot and disrupt the unspoken order.
As you stood there, trying to decide, Emily caught your eye and offered you a warm, reassuring smile. "Hey, why don't you sit next to me?" she suggested kindly, patting the seat beside her.
Grateful for her understanding, you nodded and made your way over, sliding into the seat she had saved for you. The small gesture of kindness made the moment feel a little less daunting, easing the nervousness that had been creeping in since you’d learned about the case. 
As the team engaged in a lively discussion about the case, you tried to focus on the file in front of you, but a strange sensation crept over you—a shiver that ran down your spine, leaving a trail of unease in its wake. It felt as though someone was watching you, and the thought was impossible to ignore.
Lifting your eyes from the file, you glanced toward the couch on the jet. There he was, Doctor Spencer Reid, as you'd been introduced to him earlier. His gaze was unmistakably fixed on you, a quiet intensity in his eyes that you could feel even from across the cabin. The moment your eyes met, his gaze snapped away, almost too quickly, as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
It was curious, to say the least. 
The team had just settled into the bustling Milwaukee precinct, the air thick with the tension of a new case and the quiet hum of police activity around them. Hotch stood at the center of the room, efficiently handing out assignments with his usual calm authority. 
“Reid, Y/L/N, you go to the morgue,” Hotch instructed, his voice steady as he looked between the two of you. 
Spencer felt a jolt of nervousness shoot through him at the assignment. The idea of spending time alone with you set his mind racing. His thoughts spiraled through a thousand different scenarios—what he would say, how he would act, whether you would notice his awkwardness. He tried to hide his unease, but the tightening in his chest betrayed how out of sorts he felt.
You, on the other hand, felt a surge of excitement at the prospect. The morgue wasn’t exactly a thrilling destination, but the chance to spend time with Spencer, the quiet and enigmatic doctor, piqued your interest. You’d been curious about him since you joined the team, drawn to the way his mind seemed to work in layers, each one more complex than the last. This was an opportunity to maybe get to know him better, to see beyond the brilliant profiler and into the person behind those thoughtful eyes.
As the two of you gathered your things and prepared to head out, Spencer gave you a small, tentative smile, his nerves still bubbling just beneath the surface. You returned the smile with genuine warmth, hoping to ease the tension you sensed in him. 
“Ready to go?” you asked, your tone light and encouraging.
Spencer nodded, his voice just a little tight as he replied, “Yeah, let’s do this.”
As you both made your way out of the precinct, the silence between you was comfortable, filled with the potential of what this small assignment could reveal. For Spencer, it was a chance to navigate the unfamiliar territory of getting to know someone new; for you, it was an exciting step toward understanding the mystery that was Doctor Spencer Reid.
“Do you, um, do you mind driving?” Spencer asked, his voice carrying a slight edge of hesitation as the two of you stood by the car.
You smiled, already finding his nervousness endearing. “No, not at all. Do you not like to drive?” you asked as you unlocked the car.
“I find it helps me focus more on the case if I don’t also have to focus on the road,” he explained, his words coming out in a rush as if he was worried about how you might take it.
You couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “Oh, so I don’t need to focus as much as you?” you joked, throwing him a playful glance as you slid into the driver’s seat.
But Spencer, usually taking things quite literally, didn’t catch on to your teasing. His eyes widened slightly as he quickly tried to clarify. “No, no, not at all. I only meant that my mind is so busy all the time, and I—I just, I need to think a lot and—” His words tumbled out, his voice growing a bit more frantic as he tried to explain.
You immediately felt a pang of guilt for having flustered him. “Doctor Reid, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stress you out,” you said softly, cutting off his rambling. “I was only joking.”
There was a moment of silence, then Spencer took a small breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Spencer,” he corrected gently, his tone more composed now. “You can call me Spencer.”
You smiled, nodding as you started the car. “Alright, Spencer,” you agreed, feeling the ice between you start to melt just a little as you pulled out of the parking lot.
The sterile, cold air of the morgue enveloped you both as you walked through the doors, the metallic scent of antiseptic mingling with the faint, almost imperceptible odor of decay. The medical examiner, a middle-aged man with weary eyes, greeted you with a curt nod before leading you to the body you were there to examine.
As the examiner began to explain the preliminary findings, you focused intently on the details, your eyes scanning the body and the evidence laid out on the stainless steel table. Spencer stood beside you, his attention divided between listening to the examiner and observing your reactions. 
As the examiner pointed out a series of bruises on the victim’s torso, you leaned in slightly, narrowing your eyes at the pattern. Something about it struck you as odd, but familiar. “These bruises,” you started, gesturing to them, “they’re not random. They look like they could be the result of a struggle, but not just any struggle—these marks here,” you pointed to a specific set, “they’re consistent with someone trying to defend themselves against a chokehold. The position and depth suggest they were made by the victim’s own hands, trying to pry off an attacker.”
The examiner paused, blinking in surprise. “I hadn’t considered that,” he admitted, clearly impressed by your quick assessment.
Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, his curiosity piqued by your insight. He leaned in closer to examine the bruises, following the line of your observation. “You’re right,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and intrigue. “That makes sense, given the angle and the force. It would explain the bruising pattern on the victim’s neck as well.”
He looked up at you, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “That was a good catch,” he said, his tone genuinely appreciative. It wasn’t often that someone impressed him with such a sharp, on-the-spot observation, especially in an area where his own expertise usually dominated.
You smiled back, feeling a warm flush of pride at his acknowledgment. “Thanks, Spencer,” you replied, the use of his first name feeling more natural now, as if that small barrier had already begun to dissolve. 
As you and Spencer drove back to the precinct, the earlier tension from the morgue had dissipated, leaving behind a more relaxed atmosphere. 
“So, Spencer,” you began, glancing over at him with a playful smile, “I have to ask, how did you get so good at noticing the smallest details? I mean, do you practice in your free time? Like, do you just walk around analyzing random people for fun?”
Spencer chuckled softly, clearly amused by the question. “Not exactly,” he replied, his tone light. “It’s more of a habit at this point. I’ve always been observant, even when I was a kid. I guess it just… developed naturally over time.”
You tilted your head, pretending to be impressed. “Naturally, huh? So, it’s like a superpower then? I bet you can tell all kinds of things about a person just by looking at them.” 
Spencer smiled, his gaze flickering between you and the road. “It’s not quite that dramatic,” he said, modest as ever. “But, yeah, I can usually pick up on a lot of details that others might miss.”
You decided to push the playful banter a little further. “So, what about me, then? What details have you picked up?” you teased, leaning in slightly, a mischievous glint in your eyes.
Spencer blinked, taken aback by the question. He clearly hadn’t expected you to turn the tables on him like that. “Um, well,” he stammered, his mind racing to formulate a response that wouldn’t sound too personal or invasive. “I’ve noticed that you’re very passionate about your work, that you’re observant, and that you care a lot about doing the right thing.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his answer, even though it was far more earnest than you’d intended. “That’s sweet, Spencer,” you said softly. “But I was thinking more along the lines of what color my eyes are, or how you noticed I always play with my jewelry when I’m thinking.”
Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly as he processed your words, clearly not catching on to the flirtatious undertone. “Oh, well, your eyes are a very nice shade of y/e/c,” he said earnestly. “And I did notice that you play with your jewelry sometimes when you’re concentrating. It’s a subconscious gesture, probably something you do without realizing it.”
You bit back a laugh, charmed by his obliviousness. “You really are good, Doctor Reid,” you teased lightly. “But I was just messing with you. I didn’t expect you to take me so seriously.”
Spencer looked over at you, a bit of confusion in his expression, though it quickly gave way to a small, sheepish smile. “Oh… I guess I missed that,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in that endearing way he did when he was flustered.
You grinned, feeling a strange sense of affection for his sincerity. “It’s okay, Spencer. It just means you’re genuine—and I like that.”
As the car pulled into the precinct parking lot, the playful exchange left both of you feeling a little lighter. Spencer might have missed the flirtation, but in the process, you’d managed to break down some of the walls between you, leaving the door open for more conversations, more connections, and maybe, just maybe, something more down the line.
Penelope had extended one of her famously warm invitations to the entire team, promising a night of lively conversation, good food, and the kind of camaraderie that only the BAU could understand. Her apartment, as always, was a bright and eclectic haven, filled with quirky decorations, cozy seating areas, and the unmistakable aroma of something delicious wafting from the kitchen.
As the evening wore on, the sound of laughter and animated chatter filled the room. Drinks were poured, stories were shared, and the general atmosphere was one of relaxation and enjoyment. Penelope, ever the gracious host, moved through the crowd like a butterfly, making sure everyone was comfortable and having a good time.
You found yourself in the middle of a conversation with JJ and Emily, the three of you discussing everything from recent cases to more lighthearted topics. Spencer, meanwhile, was across the room, engaged in a deep discussion with Hotch and Rossi. Yet, despite the separate conversations, you couldn’t help but notice how often your gaze drifted toward him—and how, more than once, you caught him glancing back at you.
It seemed you weren’t the only one who noticed. As the evening continued, you began to pick up on a subtle undercurrent among the team, a shared look or knowing smile exchanged between your colleagues whenever you and Spencer were in close proximity. It was as if everyone had collectively decided that tonight was the night to push the two of you a little closer together.
“Hey, Y/N,” Emily said, her voice carrying a hint of mischief as she casually steered you toward the couch where Spencer had just sat down. “Why don’t you grab a seat? Looks like there’s plenty of room.”
You shot her a playful glare, fully aware of what she was doing, but you didn’t resist. With a small smile, you took the spot next to Spencer, who glanced up at you with a shy, yet pleased expression.
“Hi, Spencer,” you greeted him, settling into the seat and feeling the warmth of his presence beside you.
“Hi,” he replied, his voice soft but with a touch of warmth that made you feel at ease. The two of you exchanged a small smile, and for a moment, the noise of the party faded into the background.
Before you could say anything more, Morgan appeared out of nowhere, a wide grin on his face as he handed both you and Spencer a drink. “There you go, pretty boy, Y/N. You two look like you could use a refill,” he said, his tone far too innocent to be sincere.
You accepted the drink with a raised eyebrow. “Thanks, Morgan,” you replied, your tone matching his in playful suspicion. You knew exactly what he was up to, but you decided to play along, taking a sip of your drink as you glanced at Spencer.
Spencer, for his part, seemed slightly oblivious to the team’s not-so-subtle matchmaking attempts, though there was a faint blush on his cheeks as he took his drink from Morgan. “Thanks, Derek,” he mumbled, clearly trying to avoid the knowing look in Morgan’s eyes.
The team's subtle matchmaking efforts became more apparent, each of them playing their part with a touch of mischief. Rossi, always one for a good story, managed to draw you into a conversation about a particularly tricky case the team had solved a few years back.
“So, Y/N,” Rossi began, a twinkle in his eye, “have you ever encountered a case where the suspect used historical ciphers to communicate with their victims?”
You tilted your head, intrigued but knowing exactly where this was going. “No, I have not. Why do you ask?”
Rossi leaned back, gesturing towards Spencer with a grin. “Because our very own Dr. Reid is an expert in ciphers, and I’d bet he could tell you all about the time he cracked one in record time.”
Spencer, who had been quietly listening, perked up at the mention of his expertise. “Oh, well, it wasn’t exactly record time,” he said modestly, but Rossi’s encouragement had already drawn him in. “But it was a fascinating case. The unsub used a modified version of the Zodiac cipher, which was particularly challenging because—”
As Spencer launched into a detailed explanation, you couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly Rossi had managed to pull you both into the conversation. The discussion flowed naturally from there, and you found yourself genuinely interested in Spencer’s insights, occasionally offering your own thoughts, which Spencer seemed to appreciate.
Not long after, Penelope gathered everyone together for a game she had prepared. “Alright, everyone, time for a little fun! We’re playing ‘Celebrity!’” she announced, holding up a bowl filled with slips of paper. “And wouldn’t you know it, Y/N, you and Spencer are on the same team!”
You caught Penelope’s wink as she handed you the bowl, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “What are the odds?” you joked, taking your seat next to Spencer.
Spencer looked a little surprised but quickly smiled, clearly pleased by the arrangement. “I guess we’ll have to work together,” he said, his tone light.
Throughout the game, the team’s delight in pairing the two of you together was obvious, with Emily and Morgan offering exaggerated praise whenever you and Spencer managed to score points. “Great teamwork, you two!” Emily called out with a grin. “It’s like you can read each other’s minds!”
Spencer flushed slightly at the comment, but he seemed to enjoy the playful camaraderie, even if he wasn’t entirely sure why everyone was making such a big deal out of it.
Later, even Hotch joined in on the subtle matchmaking, calling both you and Spencer into the kitchen to help with an entirely unnecessary task. “I need a hand in here,” Hotch said, waving you both over. “This cake isn’t going to cut itself.”
You raised an eyebrow, glancing at the already-cut cake sitting on the counter, but you went along with it, smiling as you grabbed a knife. “Looks like we’ve been drafted,” you quipped.
Spencer smiled awkwardly but followed your lead, picking up a plate. “Yeah, it’s… good to be useful,” he said, his tone a little unsure but genuine.
The two of you worked side by side, the conversation light and easy. You couldn’t help but notice how comfortable it felt to be around him, even in the most mundane tasks. And as you laughed together over something trivial, you caught Hotch’s subtle nod of approval from the corner of your eye.
As the party began to wind down and people started to gather their things to leave, you and Spencer found yourselves standing near the door, alone for the first time that evening. The energy of the night had brought you closer, and the playful encouragement from the team had only served to make that connection feel more natural.
“I had a really good time tonight,” you said, your voice soft as you turned to Spencer.
He looked at you with a gentle smile, his nervousness from earlier in the night long gone. “I did too,” he replied, his tone sincere. “It was nice… spending time with you.”
You couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your chest at his words. “I think we make a pretty good team, don’t you?” you teased lightly, echoing Emily’s earlier comment.
Spencer’s smile widened just a little, though he still seemed a bit oblivious to the underlying meaning. “Yeah, I think we do,” he agreed, his eyes meeting yours in a way that felt significant.
There was a brief moment of silence between you, comfortable and filled with possibility. The evening had left you with a sense of warmth, the connection between you and Spencer deepening in ways that felt both unexpected and natural. “Goodnight, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice lingering with a hint of something more, your eyes meeting his in a way that made the simple farewell feel like it carried more weight.
Spencer hesitated for a second, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes before he spoke. “Can I, um, can I drive you home?” he asked, his tone a little shy but hopeful, as if he wasn’t quite sure if it was okay to ask.
You blinked in surprise, then remembered that you had seen him with a drink earlier in the evening. “You were drinking too, Spencer,” you pointed out gently, not wanting to put him in an uncomfortable position.
Spencer’s lips quirked up in a small smile as he shook his head. “I don’t drink alcohol,” he explained, his voice calm and reassuring. “They were nonalcoholic.”
You felt a smile tug at the corners of your mouth, warmth spreading through you at his thoughtfulness. “Oh, well in that case,” you said, your voice softening as you looked at him, “I’d really like that.”
His eyes brightened at your response, and he gave a small, almost relieved nod. “Great,” he said, the awkwardness from earlier replaced by a quiet confidence. “Let me just grab my keys.”
As you waited for him, you couldn’t help but feel that this simple offer—this small, thoughtful gesture—was a sign of something more, something that might grow between you. And as the two of you walked out together, the night air cool against your skin, you found yourself looking forward to the drive, and to whatever might come next.
While guests began to filter out of Penelope's apartment, Hotch and Rossi found themselves lingering in the cozy living room, the buzz of the evening winding down. The two men exchanged a glance as they noticed you and Spencer leaving together, Spencer opening the car door for you with his usual quiet charm.
Rossi chuckled softly, taking a sip of his drink as he watched the scene unfold. “You know, Aaron,” he began, a hint of amusement in his voice, “I think those two might just be good for each other.”
Hotch followed Rossi’s gaze a small, rare smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, his tone thoughtful. “They would make a nice pair.”
Rossi nodded, setting his glass down with a satisfied sigh. “Spencer needs someone like Y/N—someone patient, who sees the world a little differently, but isn’t afraid to challenge him.”
Hotch tilted his head slightly, considering Rossi’s words. “And anyone could use someone like Spencer,” he added.
Rossi smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “It’s not often you see something like that—a connection that just feels… natural.”
Hotch chuckled softly, a sound that was more a breath than a laugh. “It’s about time Spencer found someone who really gets him.”
Rossi raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. “And maybe someone who can keep up with that brain of his.”
Hotch’s smile grew a little wider at that. “She’s got her work cut out for her, then.”
They shared a knowing look, they’d both be quietly rooting for you and Spencer.
As Spencer opened the car door for you, you slid into the passenger seat with a smile, appreciating the small but considerate gesture. He walked around to the driver’s side and settled in, adjusting the mirrors and checking the controls with his usual meticulousness. The quiet hum of the engine filled the space as he started the car, and soon enough, you were on the road, the city lights passing by in a soft blur.
For a few moments, the two of you were content with the silence, letting the calm of the evening settle over you. But then, curiosity got the better of you, and you turned slightly in your seat to look at Spencer, your gaze soft but inquisitive.
“So, Spencer,” you began, your tone light, “you don’t drink alcohol at all? Or just not tonight?”
Spencer glanced over at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Not at all, actually,” he admitted. “I’ve never really liked the way it makes me feel. Plus, it’s kind of a personal choice—helps me stay sharp, especially with work.”
You nodded, finding that very much in line with what you’d learned about him so far. “That makes sense,” you replied, your voice warm. “I can see how that would be important for you. You always seem so… focused.”
Spencer chuckled softly, a touch of bashfulness in his tone. “I try to be,” he said. “But it’s not always easy. My mind tends to wander a lot.”
You smiled at that, sensing an opportunity to tease him just a little. “Wander? You? I would’ve never guessed,” you said with playful exaggeration, giving him a sideways glance.
He laughed, the sound quiet but genuine. “Yeah, well, it happens more often than you’d think. Especially when I’m trying to solve a problem or figure something out. My brain just… runs in all these different directions.”
“I’d love to see that in action,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. When you realized how it might sound, you quickly added, “I mean, it must be fascinating to see how your mind works.”
Spencer glanced at you again, this time with a slightly more serious expression, though there was still a hint of that shy smile. “I guess I’ve just always been wired that way. It’s part of why I love what I do. But it can be… isolating sometimes, you know? People don’t always get it.”
You nodded, understanding the sentiment all too well. “Yeah, I can relate to that,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “I think a lot of us in this line of work feel that way at times. It’s hard for people outside of it to really understand what we go through, what we see.”
There was a moment of shared silence, both of you reflecting on what you’d said. Then, wanting to lighten the mood a bit, you turned the conversation back to something a little more playful.
“So, what do you do for fun, Spencer? When you’re not solving crimes and noticing everything that no one else does?” you asked with a teasing lilt to your voice.
Spencer seemed to relax a bit more, the serious tone easing as he thought about your question. “Well,” he began, “I like to read, obviously. I’m a bit of a collector when it comes to rare books. And, um, I also enjoy magic tricks.”
“Magic tricks?” you repeated, intrigued and a little surprised. “I didn’t expect that.”
Spencer smiled, the warmth in his expression growing. “Yeah, I picked it up as a kid. It’s something that stuck with me. I guess I like the challenge of it—figuring out how to manipulate perception, how to create something that seems impossible.”
You leaned in a little, genuinely fascinated. “That’s actually really cool. You’ll have to show me a trick sometime.”
He glanced at you, a spark of excitement in his eyes at the idea. “I’d like that,” he said simply.
As the conversation continued, the two of you fell into an easy rhythm, exchanging stories and little details about your lives. You learned that Spencer had an insatiable curiosity for nearly everything, and that he was just as eager to hear about your interests and experiences. There were moments of gentle teasing, of light laughter, and as the night wore on, it felt as though the distance between you was closing, replaced by a budding connection that was both comfortable and exciting.
By the time Spencer pulled up in front of your place, you felt like you’d gotten to know him in a way that few probably had—a glimpse beneath the layers of the brilliant, sometimes awkward genius to the kind, thoughtful person underneath.
“Thank you for the ride, Spencer,” you said as you unbuckled your seatbelt, turning to face him. “And for the conversation. I really enjoyed tonight.”
Spencer’s smile was warm, and this time, there was a hint of confidence in it. “I did too,” he replied, his voice soft. “Maybe we could do it again sometime?”
You felt your heart skip a beat at the suggestion, a smile spreading across your face. “I’d like that,” you said, letting the sincerity of your words hang in the air for a moment.
With one last smile, you stepped out of the car, the cool night air brushing your skin as you walked to your door. Glancing back, you caught Spencer’s eyes; he gave a shy wave before driving off without hesitation. As you unlocked your door, it struck you—you’d never met a man who didn’t try to make a move in such a moment. 
It was refreshing, and his sincerity left you smiling. There was something deeply endearing about how content he seemed just to share your company. As you settled in for the night, a warm feeling lingered.
Monday morning arrived with the usual hum of activity in the bullpen, but there was a new kind of energy in the air—one that had you exchanging sweet, shy glances with Spencer across the room. Every time your eyes met, it was like a quiet acknowledgment of the evening you had shared, a soft connection that lingered between you.
As you settled into your desk, organizing your files and preparing for the day ahead, you were pleasantly surprised when Spencer walked by, gently placing a mug of coffee on your desk. The familiar aroma wafted up, and you immediately recognized it as your favorite blend, made just the way you liked it.
“Spencer… thank you,” you said softly, picking up the mug and taking a tentative sip. It was perfect, just as you expected. You looked up at him, curiosity tinged with warmth in your eyes. “How did you know?”
Spencer’s lips curled into a small, almost bashful smile, his hands fidgeting slightly. “I pay attention,” he replied simply, his voice just above a whisper, as if the words held more meaning than they seemed.
Your heart fluttered at his response, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. There was something incredibly endearing about how Spencer had noticed something so small, yet so personal. It wasn’t just the coffee—it was the care and thoughtfulness behind the gesture that made your heart skip a beat.
Smitten might have been an understatement for how you felt in that moment. You held his gaze for a moment longer, the unspoken understanding between you growing stronger with each passing second.
“Thank you,” you repeated, your voice soft and full of appreciation.
Spencer gave a quick, shy nod before retreating to his desk, his own heart racing from the brief but meaningful exchange. 
Wednesday morning, you made your way to Spencer’s desk. In your hand, you held a donut topped with colorful sprinkles, a small token of your growing affection.
Reaching Spencer’s desk, you gently placed the donut in front of him, your hand brushing against his arm ever so slightly. The brief contact sent a spark through you, a tiny thrill that lingered as you stepped back.
Spencer looked up, surprise flickering across his face before it softened into a smile. “Y/N? Thank you,” he said, his voice tinged with both gratitude and a hint of that shyness you found so endearing.
You smiled back, your eyes meeting his. “A sweet treat for a sweet man,” you replied, your tone light yet full of sincerity.
For a moment, Spencer just stared at you, his cheeks flushing slightly as he took in your words. It wasn’t often that he received compliments like that, especially not from someone who meant as much to him as you were beginning to.
“Thank you,” he repeated, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were trying to savor the moment.
You gave him a soft smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at his reaction. It was such a small gesture, but the way he looked at you made it feel like so much more. As you walked back to your desk, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder, catching him as he carefully picked up the donut, a faint smile playing on his lips.
“I think I’m going to ask her on a date,” Spencer said, his voice filled with a mixture of determination and nervousness as he spoke to Penelope in the breakroom.
“Y/N?” Penelope’s eyes lit up with excitement, a grin spreading across her face. She had been hoping for this moment for a while now.
Spencer paused for a moment, then, with a rare touch of humor, he replied, “No, Emily.”
Penelope blinked, caught off guard by his response, before quickly catching on to his teasing. She narrowed her eyes playfully at him, placing a hand on her hip. “I don’t think that would go over well, my love.”
Spencer couldn’t help but smile, feeling a bit more at ease with the banter. “Y/N or Emily?” he asked, his tone just as playful, though there was a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.
Penelope laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t think Y/N or Emily would take well to you asking Emily on a date,” she said, her voice softening. “But, Y/n would be over the moon if you asked her out, Spencer. Trust me.”
Spencer nodded, a bit more confidence building inside him as he imagined what it might be like to take that step. “Yeah,” he said quietly, more to himself than to Penelope. “I think you’re right.”
Penelope gave him an encouraging smile, her eyes twinkling with excitement for her friend. “Go get her, Reid,” she said gently, patting his arm. “You’ve got this.”
Spencer took a deep breath, feeling both the weight and the thrill of the decision he was about to make. “Thanks, Penelope,” he said, giving her a grateful look before heading back to his desk, his mind now focused on how he was going to ask you out.
You stood in front of the elevator, the thought of a relaxing Friday evening at home making you eager to get out of the office. Your couch was practically calling your name, promising comfort after a long week. Just as the elevator doors began to slide open, you heard a familiar voice behind you.
“Y/N, wait up!”
You turned with a smile, spotting Spencer hurrying toward you. “I’m not moving, Spencer,” you giggled, teasing him lightly. “I’m waiting for the elevator.”
“Right… right,” he stammered, laughing awkwardly as he reached you, his hand instinctively going to the back of his neck, a gesture you had come to find endearing. 
“What's up, weirdo?” you asked, still smiling as you watched him struggle to find his words.
Spencer took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with determination and nervousness. “Will you go out with me?” he blurted out, the words tumbling out faster than he intended.
You didn’t hesitate for even a second. “Yes.”
Spencer blinked, clearly caught off guard by how quickly you responded. “I don’t want to make things awkward, but I love spending time with you and—wait, what?”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, his genuine surprise making the moment even sweeter. “I said yes, Spencer,” you repeated, your voice warm and reassuring.
Spencer’s eyes widened, a mixture of relief and joy flooding his expression. “You did? I mean, you did!” he stammered, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Wow, okay… this is great!”
The elevator doors opened just as he finished speaking, and you both stepped inside, the excitement of the moment bubbling between you. As the doors closed, Spencer couldn’t stop smiling, and neither could you.
“So, where are we going?” you asked, leaning slightly toward him as the elevator began its descent.
Spencer glanced at you, his smile softening into something more tender. “Anywhere you want,” he said quietly.
The evening unfolded exactly as you had hoped, with one delightful twist. You and Spencer ended up on your couch, both of you dressed in comfortable pajamas, a warm pizza box resting on the coffee table in front of you. The aroma of melted cheese and spices filled the room, adding to the cozy atmosphere.
Spencer was leaning back into the cushions, a slice of pizza in hand, his long legs stretched out comfortably. You were nestled beside him, your feet tucked under a soft blanket, feeling utterly content. It was the relaxing Friday evening you had been craving, only now it was even better with Spencer there beside you.
“This is nice,” Spencer said softly, breaking the comfortable silence as he took another bite of his pizza.
You glanced over at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “It really is,” you agreed, reaching for your own slice. “Exactly what I needed after this week.”
He looked at you, his eyes warm and a little shy, as if he couldn’t quite believe that this was happening. “I can’t believe this is what you wanted to do tonight,” he admitted, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. “But I’m really glad it is.”
You laughed softly, nudging him with your elbow. “Spencer, this is perfect. It’s exactly what I wanted—good food, good company, and no pressure to do anything but relax.”
He smiled at that, clearly relieved and happy. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said, his voice gentle as he looked at you with that familiar, earnest gaze.
As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed easily between bites of pizza and sips of soda. You talked about everything and nothing—cases, hobbies, favorite books, and the little things that made each of you laugh. It felt natural, effortless, like this was where you both were meant to be.
Eventually, you found yourself leaning into Spencer’s side, your head resting on his shoulder as you both watched the TV, a movie playing softly in the background. He wrapped his arm around you, his touch light and careful, as if he were still marveling at how right this felt.
You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of the moment wash over you. It was the relaxing Friday evening you had wanted, with the added bonus of the guy you wanted right there with you. As you snuggled closer, a contented sigh escaped your lips.
This was perfect.
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blood-smiles · 3 months ago
Text
𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ୭˚. ᵎᵎ
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐆𝐍! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 TW MDNI . slight nsfw . yandere content . stalking . submissive yandere . creepy thoughts . highly unprofessional behavior from yandere . if reader is a simp and Alejandro is a bigger one .
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You organized various assortments of products on shelves, placing each product perfectly, the name of the item fully on display,
While stepping back to admire your work you heard the squeaky shoes of a little kid, suddenly a small body crashed into your side and landed on the floor with a sickening crack,
“Jimmy! Jimmy! Oh my god! JIMMY!” The frantic voice of a woman called out, you instantly turned around, seeing the little boy wailing on the ground, his arm twisted in an uncomfortable direction,
You crouched down next to the child, trying to get him to calm down as you inspected his arm,
The same woman ran in your direction and pushed you off her child with a rough shove, tears welling up in her eyes,
“YOU! YOU DID THIS TO MY CHILD!” She shrieked, holding the kid in her arms,
“I-I ma’am! I swear it’s not that, your child was running and crashed into—“ 
“I DONT WANT TO HEAR IT! I AM GOING TO SUE YOU FOR THIS!” She screamed at you, her spit landing on your face as you stepped back,
A burning pain splattered all over your face, the woman’s purse making a harsh contact with your nose bridge, 
Small red droplets dirtied your white uniform polo shirt, 
She scooped up the injured boy in her arms and ran outside the store, yelling profanities and curses at you,
Suddenly a loud crash was heard as the woman kicked the large shelves, causing the tall shelves to come down on you, one by one alike to dominos,
You can’t remember what happened next, as you woke up in a hospital.
So. You have a huge law suit over your head now, a metaphorical guillotine over your neck, just waiting to be brought down on you, decapitating you and your clean record,
You stood in the waiting room, the fresh smell of floor cleaner wafting into your nostrils, helping you distract yourself momentarily,
“Mx (Y/N)?” A deep voice rings out, pulling you back into reality,
You glance up at the source of the voice, your (e/c) meeting with scarlet red hues, sharp eyes encased behind glasses,
You slowly got up, using your crutches to stabilize your footing, the man waited for you, his eyes inspecting your form as if calculating your every move, he stared at you for longer than needed but you ignored his eyes and kept acting as if nothing was happening,
He politely opened the door for you, giving you enough room to limp inside the office, after you successfully sat down, the man stood in front of his desk,
His ruby eyes were drilling into your own, as if memorizing every single detail of your iris, you looked into his eyes too, trying to seem confident,
If you looked close enough you could see the slight color difference under his eyes, you recognized that gaze— of exhaustion and pulling all nighters, but he did do a good job minimizing the eye bags!
You didn’t get to look at him properly but he was very well dressed.. the classic black vest along with black dress pants and a white dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his forearms,
Pretty purple hair gathered at the back of his head in a ponytail, two tresses framed the sides of his face, bringing more attention to his sharp features, he was attractive.. Very attractive.
After another round of continuous staring the male finally cleared his throat, breaking the suffocating tension in the room,
“I am Alejandro Ortega, your defense in the court.” He stated clearly, sticking his hand out, asking for a hand shake,
“Oh. I’m (Y/N), thank you for your time sir.” You politely stretched out your arm and gently shook his hand,
His larger one enveloped your own hand, giving you a steady and firm handshake, slightly squeezing your hand in his,
His touch lingered, hand still tightly held around yours, he stared into your eyes, unwilling to let go,
You half smiled, trying to pull your hand away from his, slightly becoming unsettled when he didn’t let go,
He coughed, letting go of your hand and sitting down on his own chair,
He crossed his legs under the desk, taking out a paper and a pen, tapping the opposite side of the tip on the paper sheet, he discussed with you the phases of how he was planning to defend you in this case, giving you a bit of a background check on him,
“Well then, please tell me how everything happened, miss (Y/N).” 
You started retelling the events of the store, your hands coming in play and moving around to emphasize your actions and feelings,
A soft smile bloomed on the man’s face, sometimes even chuckling quietly at your exaggerated gestures,
Alejandro liked—No, adored your company, you were so charismatic and lively, your energy was so contagious that even his hard exterior had began to show cracks,
The buzzing in his chest wouldn’t stop, his hands were sweaty and his face felt warm, just what was this feeling? He is supposed to maintain a poker face and not show any favoritism with his clients.. Oh but you.. he couldn’t help but show contentment around you,
Unfortunately you soon had to go home and rest, he felt truly pity for you, being all bruised up and injured— on top of that you were in the process of being sued, 
Such a sweet soul you have, he would make sure that you would be well protected under him, he would hate to see you in harms way,
Alejandro finished helping the janitors cleaning up, he waved everyone off as they left, with suitcase in hand he leaned against the wall,
Ever since your appointment with him he couldn’t stop thinking of your face and voice, perhaps he could use your files for some.. private research.
He opened the doors of his home, his wife, Ume, peeked into the hallway as if already knowing it was him who entered the manor,
Her long white hair flowed behind her as she sped walked towards him, she brushed her bangs out of her beautiful face as she approached him,
“Honey! Did you get off work early?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a loving peck on his lips,
Alejandro grunted in response, peeling her arms off his shoulders and neck, he despised physical contact from Ume, he hated her voice, to him it sounded like nails scratching against a chalkboard, it irritated him, greatly so.
Ume was not at fault, for she had done no wrong to him, she was what any man would wish for, she was obedient, beautiful, loving and skilled in every aspect,
He just hated the intent behind his marriage with her, ever since he had slipped out of his mothers womb and brought into this world he had no control over his life, for it had been decided for him,
What he was going to be, who he was going to marry, where he was going to study, who his relationships were and even how he should feel,
He had no control over his life, he had never had any control over his own livelihood, his parents had controlled him even beyond the grave,
He hated his life. He hated Ume. He hated his parents. He cherishes you. He hated everything but you.
You had brought excitement to his life somehow, you came into his office and sparked something in him with your attitude and personality,
Maybe his life wasn’t so bad.
He stared at the knives in his kitchen, his hand itching to find something— someone to slice into ribbons with the sheening blade of the knife,
When did he become so violent? Was he this savage all along?
He shook his head lightly, taking off his glasses momentarily as he cooked dinner for his self and Ume,
He flipped the chicken and rice in two plates, as he brought the food and placed it down on the long hall table,
Ume awed at the perfectly cooked food, she dug in immediately, complimenting him and his cooking skills every time she spooned food into her mouth,
Alejandro subconsciously clutched a napkin in his hand, his knuckles turning a ghost white from sheer force,
“..Thank you” he muttered, his hand shakily cutting off some chicken and inserting it into his mouth,
His mind wandered off to your beautiful eyes, those beautiful (e/c) gems twinkling under light enamored him so much..
Alejandro noticed how your eyes would wander off sometimes, looking at him intently, as if you were listening to the most interesting thing in the world, it just made him feel so bashful..
How long had it been since he had seen you? 5 hours? 5 days? 5 years? God, he can’t remember anymore, just being away from you felt like an eternity, it was driving him insane..
Maybe next time the both of you meet you can go out for a drink together.. he smiled a little at that, perhaps he could invite you to a garden and talk to each other and learn more about you..
“Dear? What are you smiling at?” The gratingly annoying voice of his wife chimed in, anger rose inside him, taking most of his willpower to keep a calm mind and most importantly of all not to lash out at her,
“It’s none of your concern, Ume.” He answered coldly, glaring at her, a small vein sprawling across his temple in irritation,
She looked taken aback by her husband snapping at her, her smooth caramel tinted skin draining of color, her wonder turning into a fear in a flash,
Just as she was going to open her mouth to apologize Alejandro cut her off, 
“—I’m going to go take a shower, I’m finished with my diner, wash the dishes please.” He instructed as he left but not before giving her a pointed look,
Alejandro shut the bedroom door behind him, huffing as he sat on his and Ume’s shared bed
Ume wouldn’t understand, she would break down if she ever found out he had developed romantic feelings for someone else,
As soon as he makes developments in yours and his relationship he will make sure to get divorce papers signed immediately,
He wouldn’t want you to think he was unfaithful, because he isn’t.
His marriage never worked out anyway, he can only imagine the beautiful domestic life you would have with him,
He wouldn’t have to come into office, he could be your stay at home husband! He knows how to cook, clean and overall good spouse.. He spent most of his childhood honing these skills by taking care of his little sister,
He simply goes into work to avoid having to see his insufferable wife, even a minute away from her made his life expectancy slightly increase,
He opened the water, staring at his reflection before stepping into the shower,
Cold water ran from the shower head, landing refreshingly on the tall males’ back and body,
He sighed, relaxation seeping into his body slowly and steadily, he leaned his body weight onto his forearms,
His forehead rested on the cool shower walls, cleansing his thoughts for just a moment, his long hair stuck to his forehead and shoulders as water slipped off in small droplets,
 as hard as he tried he couldn’t fend away certain thoughts, all of them being of You. You. You. Ý̵̯͙̰̾Ô̸̱͉̖̣̾͝Ú̷͎͍.
Look at what you have reduced him to.. A lovesick fool.. craving nothing more than you— It has only been five days, yet you live in his brain and heart like maggots, digging deeper and deeper into him..
Yet he didn’t care, he would allow you to do so because he knew that he secretly liked it, he liked having someone to obsess over and follow like a lovesick puppy,
he had been saving his love for too long, and now it seems that you pulled the trigger on his heart, for this dangerous love ridden russian roulette has just started.
He now understands why he suffered for so many years, he sees now that it was all for you, it seems that god has gotten tired of torturing him and sent you, as his savior— his light.
If he knew things would come to this he would have chosen to suffer again and again, continuing what appeared to be an endless cycle just to be able to meet you and reach zenith.
He is holding his heart in his hands for you, it was you awakened feelings he never thought were real, now assume the consequences of your actions, won’t you, love?
Ume stalked the halls of the huge mansion, her heart feeling heavy after she upset her beloved husband,
She smoothened down her dress as she shakily opened the bedroom door, seeing that the room was empty she sat down on the bed,
Staring at the bedroom door longingly she decided to slightly peek through a crack in the doorway,
The water landed against the shower floor, helping muffle out the small whimpers and moans that were heard from Alejandro,
His hand fisted his cock rapidly, his hips bucking into his soft hand to feel some kind of friction, the sound of his hand clapping against his skin being audible even with the drizzling water ambients,
Ume’s eyes widened, never had she though her husband could ever make such.. Sinful sounds, it seemed he was saying something between the strangled sounds of pleasure..
“—N).. (Y/N).. Mmph! (Y/N), please..” 
(Y/N)? Who was this (Y/N)? Why was her husband saying that name? Was he cheating on her?
Her green eyes zeroed in on his body, watching as his back would arch and tremble whenever he would get close to climax,
Ume had tried a handful of times to get some kind of intimacy going on with Alejandro, going as far as getting some.. Aphrodisiac products, however it seemed that even under the influence of such hard core drugs he would rather deal with it himself than come close to her,
His free hand roamed his body, soon reaching up against his chest and starting to play with the soft muscle, 
Delivering soft and hard squeezes, soft groans muddled with mutters of “I love you”s slipped out of his lips,
Dampened hair fell over his eyes as he pressed his cheek against his shoulder, gentle sobs mixed with the sound of water running,
His thrusts slowed down as his thighs pressed together, with a final cry of your name the knot in his stomach came undone,
Loads and loads of white semen painted a section of the tiled shower walls, he kept thrusting into the air, riding out his high.
Ume closed the door quietly, sitting on the bed she placed her hands over her face, her well manicured nails digging into the sides of her soft face,
Whoever this.. (Y/N) was she was going to speak to, and it’s not going to be pretty.
Alejandro was her husband, hers only, and she was willing to fight tooth and nail for him,
The bathroom door opened, showing the ruby eyed man walking out with a towel wrapped around his waist, delicate beads of water dripping off his hair and rolling down his skin abdomen,
“Is there something wrong?” He asked with a raise of his eyebrow, eyeing her down menacingly,
The pretty woman but her lips while smiling, kicking off her shoes and spreading her legs open, an idea popping into her head
“Well.. perhaps, I’m feeling awfully.. Hot down there, help me will you?”
It had been 3 months precisely, it was your court date, you dressed up as best as you could afford, brushing your hair neatly and ironing your clothes to perfection,
You arrived early, looking at the huge court with furrowed brows and crudely covered dark circles, you weren’t able to get a wink of sleep last night,
Your mind couldn’t stop thinking of all the worst possible scenarios— What If you lost and went to jail? What if you were forced to sleep with a crazy cell mate? Sentenced to death? Having to use forks as hair brushes for the end of your days?!
A hand gently fell on your head, softly caressing your hair, you met scarlet eyes, beautiful eyes, the same shade as blood,
“Everything is going to be alright, I can assure you that, so please don’t worry your pretty little head over whatever you are thinking, will you promise me that?” You knew that voice, that was your lawyers voice, it was always so soothing to you, never was his voice rough or hoarse, it was always so warm and gentle..
You nodded, your worries calming down slightly, you weren’t expecting it but it sure was meaningful to you, you knew he was very.. Stoic most of the time, you liked to think he might have a soft spot for you, although the probability of that is probably non existent, oh how you were so so wrong.
The both of you entered the court, you were sweating buckets of sweat, pulling at your collar once in a while to try and freshen yourself up,
“Defendants please rise.” The judge called out, her voice strong and authoritative,
The both of you stood up, you were so nervous in the moment that you totally ignored Alejandro’s hand clasped around yours, his fingers intertwined tightly in between yours,
Alejandro was right, he was good, good was a massive understatement, he got evidence from places you didn’t even recognize, you had no idea if some of the documents had been falsified or not due to how legit they looked,
By the end of court you weren’t the one in cuffs, but the mother of the little boy, who had been taken into custody,
She yelled profanities at you, kicking and screaming at the police men to let her go,
Alejandro stood in front of you protectively, eyes narrowed into a glare, gaze as sharp as knives and glass shards,
You were so happy and relieved, weight had been lifted off your shoulders, you felt as if you were going to cry or happiness,
Your chest felt light as you hugged Alejandro, thanking him a million times over and over,
Had you overstepped boundaries? Maybe, Would Alejandro normally flip out and do something unseemly? If you were someone else, yes.
But it’s you, how could he deny you of something he had been wanting to do for a long time? How? So he wasn’t.
He deserved this too, he had gone through so much trouble to fake so much evidence to get that dirty bitch in jail, and you were willingly giving him his reward,
He basically threw himself on you, his arms over your head, he adjusted your arms on his waist, letting you hug him as close as you desired,
His face was close to your hair— so so close to you, he just had to smell you, just one second, please please please please please please.
He breathed in your scent, his eyes threatening to roll back into his head, you smelled so good, he knew his wife was in the audience but he couldn’t give less of a fuck,
Let her watch, let her see how he loved you so much more, he didn’t care anymore, he wasn’t going to hide it anymore, because it was true he had become so intimately infatuated with you he couldn’t even stand being a moment without you,
He had all he ever wanted right in his arms, and he didn’t care what he had to do to make you his, 
He didn’t care if he had to frame innocent people over and over again, he didn’t care if he had to make shady deals with hackers or mafia men, he will do crazy shit and get away with it!
If he had to let the world burn for you he would turn the world ablaze until only ash and cinder was left, only to light it on fire again over and over just to prove how much he loved you.
His eyes met his “wife”’s emerald like gaze, her eyes shining under light with jealousy, he knew she wanted to tear the both of you apart,
But he wouldn’t let her, as he would be the one ripping her to shreds this time around,
He will do anything and he means everything for you. 
He would do it all in your name. ♡
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uhohdad · 3 months ago
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(18+) König x Reader - Jealous of Your Sex Toys
WARNING: Implied Toxic Relationship Dynamic
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You’re a grown woman. You are allowed to have sex toys - it’s expected even. And yet, you feel guilty. Caught doing something you shouldn’t have been. Body locked up and eyes wide as you stare down at the brightly-colored silicone sex toys resting in the flat of König’s massive palm.
“You don’t need these. I’m enough for you, ja?”
It’s a simple question - a yes or no question - but you both know there was enough strings attached you could spool it into a ball of abrasive twine.
You weigh your options.
‘Yes’ - No more sex toys for you. A life of relying purely on your fingers and him, clit never knowing the buzz of a vibrator again. Giving into his will and letting him control you to a degree that you know isn’t healthy.
‘No’ -
Well, you can’t say no.
Aside from how soul crushing you understand the weight of that word would be coming from you - it’s far from the truth. He is enough for you. More than enough - too big, even. Too insatiable. Too much of an ego to not leave you whimpering and covered in the evidence of finish after finish until you were begging him to stop.
Your hesitance is somehow worse than either of your impossible options. You should have just blurted the first answer that came to mind.
His brow quirks as his gaze continues to bore into you with sly, half-lidded eyes.
“No?” He asks, with a quirk of his brow and a thrilling glint of mischief in his eye.
You still can’t bring yourself to confirm or deny.
He nods in understanding, his giant hands wrapping around your sex toys, so little in his palms.
“That’s okay, mein Nervenkitzel Sucher,” He purrs, “I can share.”
Your shoulders brace instinctively, insides coiling as tight as that ball of abrasive twine, those attached strings getting more and more tangled with every silken word that rolls from his tongue. He says it’s okay - but it sure doesn’t feel like he means it. Choking you with those tricky strings.
The fistful of your sex toys - your misdeeds, your dirty, shameful little secrets - falls to his side. He approaches with precise steps until he’s between your knees, looming over you.
“I’ll show you,” He says with a dangerous crinkle in his eyes, a sickeningly sweet smile surely hidden underneath that mask.
You unintentionally shrink in on yourself in the shadow of his hulking, commanding figure. A calculated move. Not-so-subtly reminding you of just how small and defenseless you are in his presence. His voice drops, and those brows furrow, that smile surely faded behind the black fabric obscuring his face as he stares down at you intensely.
Your mouth has gone dry, your attempt at words - an apology, a flirt, a joke, anything - leaves you as nothing but a dried out squeak lodged deep in the back of your throat.
“I’ll show you how I share.”
-
“Kmph-Kmph!”
“Sh, sh. Isn’t this what you wanted, Blümchen? To keep both?”
You let out a truly pathetic whine, throwing your head back on the mattress. How many times have you cum?
You lost count, lost your very rationality, lost to him - the gift of bittersweet pleasure twisted into something unbearable.
“Greedy, greedy girl.”
Plugged, stuffed, and spread open. Your vibrator buzzes ruthlessly on your abused, swollen, throbbing clit at a torturous speed. Restrained by your own handcuffs, secured tightly to the headboard and keeping you from putting up the fight that would be useless anyway. There’s surely a metaphor hidden somewhere within this detail - but your thoughts are so clouded with arousal there’s no way you’d be find it.
Too much, too much, König, too much!
And while you know he knows exactly what you’re pleading, your mouth will never form the words - stifled by the drool-covered gag nestled between your lips.
His pumps in and out of you at a punishing pace, thick cock soaked with your arousal and disciplined hips snapping against the back of your thighs, ignoring the tears of pure overstimulation streaking down your temples.
He studies you with narrowed, unreadable eyes, watching you writhe. His stare lingers on your chest, arching and twisting beneath him as you fight the cruel pleasure between your legs. His stare is eerily cold for a man whose cock is being pleasured by a warm, tight cunt. You’re not even sure if he’s enjoying it, or if this is purely a lesson he must teach you in his eyes.
You know he’s trying to prove a point - to show you that you only need one or the other. Can’t you see? Both is just too much for a little girl like yourself to handle.
So choose wisely, little one.
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♡ KÖNIG DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡
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glossgojo · 2 months ago
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father charlie mayhew x undercover detective fem! reader/that one fleabag scene
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5k words (i went crazy with this one)
oh boy where do i begin
TAGS: siren reader!, AFAB reader, religious themes, nonreligious reader, confession booth is sexy, oraI male receiving, big d!ck charlie, dubious consent, p in v, no protection, breeding cuz duh it’s me, blood k!nk (if u squint)
after lois was nearly detained for being belligerently drunk at work, the FBI called you in. not to work alongside her no, to survey and investigate the community. the crimes surrounded her. you became lois’s daughter’s “friend” living with her and hanging around whenever you could. fortunately for both of you, lois did actually like your company and so did her daughter.
with some miracle you became a part of her everyday life, even tagging along when she met sister megan once. the nun was peculiar and although you weren’t nearly as trusting as lois you liked her enough to fake your way into an unlikely friendship. you the hard on her luck “college student” and her the eccentric murder-obsessed nun. it worked well enough for a cover story and she seemed to buy it. given your experience you knew enough about murderers to get along with her, pretending to share her passion for serial killers and the like. she had mentioned visiting the diner over text one day, you thought it a great opportunity to get out and people watch but what you didn’t expect was that she had company.
you knew megan was unconventional to say the least but you didn’t expect her to be on a date with, the looks of it, a lady killer. the closer you got the more you had to mask your reaction, she was with the new priest. you just didn’t expect him to be near your age and straight out of a GQ magazine. you willed a smile to your lips as you sauntered to the side of her booth, throwing an around the back of her seat and leaning down. megan tore her eyes away from the priest, meeting yours after what felt like minutes. you didn’t blame her, you were having a hard time ignoring him as well. “megan! hey i hope i'm not interrupting.” you finally looked pointedly towards him, your smile withering as you met his chocolate eyes. you hadn’t seen eyes so dark in a while.
“did something happen?” she assumed you had an update, it wouldn’t be the first time since you lived so close to lois. you sometimes told her details to gain her trust, of course clearing it with lois first. you pretended you did, pretended whatever you had to say was not for the eyes of a very curious priest. his eyes hadn’t left you since you interrupted.
“no, uh we can talk later.” you motioned slightly towards him and megan realized she’d never made introductions. she broke eye contact turning towards the priest, finding him already looking at you, well more so the small sliver of skin your crop top displayed above your skirt from the way you stretched over her booth. she knew father mayhew was less traditional but she didn’t expect this.
“oh y/n this is father mayhew.” you looked at him waiting a beat before you smiled brighter than before, he was intrigued to say the least. you were confusing him, sending signals he couldn’t quite decipher. maybe he wasn’t your type because you seemed wholly unaffected by him. that or you were just good at hiding it.
“nice to meet you mr.mayhew.” there was no way you were calling him father, you weren’t religious much less catholic.
“father-“ megan started to correct you and you cocked your head to the side, ready to remind her you didn’t believe in organized religion.
“charlie is fine, please y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” he cut in before you two began your conversation, seeing the way your eyes narrowed at the correction. your eyes were back on him as soon as he said your name, masterfully hiding how your stomach flipped at it coming from his lips. it didn’t matter to him that you weren’t religious, hell it might be for the best if you weren’t. he would rather never see you or your red heels ever again.
“charlie, i’ll leave you two to it.” you attributed the startling attraction you felt to the taboo of it all. a priest, sinfully handsome, and from the look of his shoulders and arms his body was even more unholy. your glances had been brief but they were enough to spike your curiosity.
“please join us, i’d be interested to hear whatever you were about to share.” there was that egotistical expression on his face that made you think he didn’t usually get no from women.
“oh i don’t know it’s kind of a secret. can you keep a secret charlie?” you were pulling out all the stops, straightening your posture, batting your eyelids, even cocking your head to the side and if megan wasn’t so transfixed by his reaction she would’ve taken notes. he was completely drawn into you, reminding himself to blink and respond when you a smile twitched at the corner of your lips when you were met with silence. you knew you had him and he knew too.
“let’s pretend this is confession.” he drew his arms out, leaning back against the booth and you took the challenge, sitting next to megan before she could try to leave you two alone. the scent of your perfume hit him as you sat down, sensual and distinct. he’d remember it for days.
“sure confession, i’ve always liked the notion. there’s something so sexy about the whole thing don’t you think megan?” charlie watched you try to shift the subject away from whatever you came to say. he wasn’t so naive. however one thing became clear, you didn’t trust him.
“oh geez, i guess it is sexy. you’re dishing out your deepest darkest secrets in a small box where you can’t see the other person.” he could see the way your eyes softened around the edges when you looked at megan. and the way they changed when you looked back towards him. he hadn’t felt so wholly consumed by someone. whatever trap you had laid out, he was ensnared.
“i’ve always wondered who a priest confesses to?”
“God.” his eyebrow cocked at the question, eyes lighting up in amusement and you bashfully nodded your head.
“ah right.” megan laughed at your response, finding the exchange a bit trivial. she was itching to hear the new information.
“i’m gonna head back to the church, can’t exactly leave it unattended this long. sister it was great to speak with you and again nice to meet you y/n.” you waved him a goodbye as he got up and walked past you both, your eyes never leaving him until you couldn’t crane your neck much further. megan shook off the worries that were beginning to surface and instead pestered you to spill your guts. you did as soon as the diner’s bell rang to signal the door closing. you told her what you had rehearsed all the while being haunted by the ghost of father mayhew’s appearance.
the murders continued and you spent late nights with lois spinning every possible theory. you couldn’t scratch the itch that bothered you about megan and charlie. instead of asking megan to meet you, you decided to visit the father himself. although you would play it off as a last minute plan you carefully dressed for the occasion, a baby pink cropped cardigan covered your lacy tank top fit with high waisted flare jeans that hugged your curves just right. it looked casual and your skin was indeed covered enough for church but if you stretched or raised your arms even slightly your skin would show and you knew his eyes would find their way there just like before. you wore baby pink platform heels to match even, your hair up in a seemingly effortless updo that actually took you thirty minutes to perfect. and to top it all off you made sure to smell downright sinful and gloss your lips to the heavens.
he didn’t stand a chance.
you were grateful to find the church empty save the priest in question sitting in the pews reading what you assumed was the bible. the click of your heels drew his gaze over his shoulder, he would lose this battle without a doubt in his mind. he only hoped god would forgive him after. he rose to stand, abandoning the bible with ease and a smile crept to your lips as he met you in the walkway between the pews.
“y/n, what a surprise i thought you weren’t religious.” he didn’t think he’d see you again, not like this at least. maybe only in his dreams or when the desire deep inside him took over.
“oh i’m not, just curious.” you cocked your head to the side and charlie had a sneaking suspicion you got whatever you wanted when you did that. he wasn’t a stranger to using his looks to get things handed to him, he just didn’t expect to be so easily swayed by it himself.
“anything i can help you with?” as much as he would have liked to continue this staring contest he had an idea you were here on a mission. you had unsuccessfully hidden how taken you were with him. now standing at his full height you were finding it hard to disguise your attraction. he was tall, much taller than you had figured and even in your heels you came up to his shoulder. his body was crafted for sports, for modeling, for anything but the cloth. the sheer strength he wielded was going to waste, you wondered why he needed it all.
“you and sister megan are so wholly devoted to all this. i’ve never had that, something so…guiding.” he invited you to sit next to where he was situated before, you did with ease crossing your legs and sitting closer than you should be.
“your morals surely come from somewhere.”
“my parents, they weren’t religious, at least not catholic. all these murders, it just made me wonder.” you spoke in hushed whispers, the church was eerily quiet, so starkly different from the chaos of lois’s home.
“you’re scared, it’s reasonable to be. faith can give you strength but it can’t fix everything.” his head turned down towards you, onyx eyes sucking you in, you were captivated.
“hey i thought i was the atheist here.” you bumped your shoulder against his or really your shoulder against the muscle of his arms. he sucked in a breath, finding himself thinking less of religion the more he looked into your eyes. charlie drew the bible in front of him, turning the page to where he knew he’d find distraction.
“Isaiah 41:13 God promises to comfort and help those who are worried, and to take their hand and guide them through difficult times.” he turned the page to continue, not licking his finger in time and cutting his finger on the paper. it had never happened before and he didn’t even notice it until you listened on, eyes naturally drawn to his large veiny hands and then the pearl of blood that threatened to drop on the spotless floor.
“oh charlie,” you took his right hand in both of yours, thoroughly stopping his reading. you did the first thing you could think of, not wanting the blood to spill anywhere, bringing it to your lips and licking it off, meeting his gaze bashfully. the familiar taste of salty iron lined your teeth. the wet warm lap of your tongue against the pad of his finger combined with the sheen of your lips and your eye contact made charlie suddenly very aware of his corporeal form, all the rest of his blood rushing south. you did it so casually, as if consuming his blood was as natural as wine. the quiet vulnerability making him twitch in his pants. he thanked god it wasn’t well lit in the church or the bulge in his black slacks would be apparent. fortunately for him you were also too embarrassed to notice.
“s-sorry i just didn’t want it to spill.” you dropped his hand quickly, ignoring the warmth between your legs and opting to look very intently at the first button of his dress shirt. he needed to diffuse the situation before he coaxed you upstairs and smudged your damned lip gloss.
“it’s alright, i’m gonna grab a bandaid.”
“okay i’ll be hiding in the confession box trying not to burst into flames.” he laughed at your admission, he hadn’t expected you to be so embarrassed. it was probably the hottest thing he’d experienced and he thought you would own it, own that you were unabashedly seducing him. perhaps he’d misjudged your intentions all along. he came back to empty pews and he scoffed at the realization you were actually in the booth.
“what do you wish to confess?” he assumed the position, taking it as seriously as he could muster. part of him was wishing you would just tell him something substantial about yourself, he didn’t even know what you did for a living.
“how much time do you have?” charlie huffed a laugh at your words and you liked his laugh, it was airier and lighter than you expected. “i suppose ill start with the most recent sin, i embarrassed myself in front of a priest. surely that’s against some rule.”
“not entirely, embarrassment isn’t a sin.” he crossed his arms across his chest, endeared by your admission.
“right, what about lust?” he closed his eyes, he’d nearly gone half-soft but here you were painting deadly images in his mind. he felt like a teenage boy, rock hard and trying to will it down.
“lust, one of the seven deadly sins, but it can be forgiven. that is if you don’t act on it.”
“ah i’ve never been good at that part.”
“i can pray for you, kneel with me.” you did as he said, finding it hard to deny him of anything when his voice was so deep and commanding through the grated screen. you waited a beat and then another, breathing out in and out. you wondered if he was trying to remember a prayer or you were too far gone for one that readily came to mind. instead you heard him grumble under his breath, the church far too quiet for it to go unnoticed.
“fuck it.” you blinked your eyes in surprise, the wood digging into your knees as you waited another beat and the curtain to your side was drawn open and charlie stood in front of you. the sight of you kneeling nearly made him pass out, he swore he’d never been so hard in his life.
“tell me no.” his large hand, now with a bandage on one finger, slid to the side of your face, tilting your face up and up until your neck craned to meet his as he stepped closer. the heat of his body radiated against you. his thumb pushed at the plush of your bottom lip, the lip gloss was as sticky as he imagined, drawing your mouth open. your eyelashes fluttered at the gentle pressure, the coaxing, the slow sensuality of it all. you felt as if you would actually burst into flames, you wished you had worn a skirt. the denim of your jeans felt like hot coals against your skin, your underwear sticky with need. he could see the desire dripping from your gaze, but he needed to be sure.
“i can’t.” you whispered, like the obedient girl you were. and that was enough for him, he shoved the thumb fully between your lips, you hummed at the intrusion. the warm wet heat of your mouth made him whimper as you swirled around the finger sucking it like you wanted so desperately to do something else. your gaze finally moved from his eyes down the length of his body to his slacks, you raised up on your knees and you were eye level with his bulge. even in the dim light you could tell he was massive and your jaw would be sore tomorrow.
“father let me help you, please?” he huffed a breath at the name, there was no going back now though, he knew what he was doing making you kneel. he nodded at your request, removing his hand from your face so you could do as you pleased. the urgency in your motions made him scoff as you practically tore his zipper down and cupped his bulge. you fidgeted to get his length through and when you did you grinned at the sight. the shadow of his length covered your face and while you were intimidated and failing to hide it you still licked tentatively at the furious red tip.
“good girl.” he smiled down at you and you squeezed your thighs at his words, cleaning up all the precum along his slit. he was so big you didn’t think you’d get him even halfway down your throat, but you were never a quitter. your hand circled his base, one cupping his heavy balls as you licked along his shaft, veins protruding angrily and you kissed the tip one more time before flattening your tongue against the bottom of him, stretching your mouth as wide as you could to accommodate his girth. it was a struggle to attempt and you groaned at how hard it was. he chuckled at your frustration, he couldn’t deny how hot the whole scene was. he placed a hand on your head, guiding you down his length and you moaned at the feeling, shivering from how badly you needed him. you wished for some sense of relief and so you took one hand off his balls and tried to touch yourself. it was no use because charlie saw you, catching your wrist. he was gentle until then, forcing you down his length and you gagged. he was so heavy and thick you felt like you couldn’t breathe. the sensation made you nearly lightheaded and he finally released his grip letting you relax and slink back. you got into a comfortable rhythm then, pumping the length you couldn’t reach and swirling your tongue along his veins while moving up and down his length. he could tell he was close from the small groans and whimpers you could hear, his grip on your wrist tightening until he let go completely and pulled you off him. he tapped his cock against your tongue, debating if he should finish this now or give in fully to what he needed.
“tell me about your sin.” your eyes glazed over as he held his cock away from your mouth, letting you speak but making you mourn the heavy feeling. it took you a few seconds to remember what he was talking about.
“i’ve touched myself thinking about this man, but he’s devoted to someone else, to god. it never feels as good as i know he can make me feel.” your gaze traveling from his cock to his eyes, he jaw clenched as he looked away before leaning down and lifting you effortlessly out of the booth and into his hold. your legs looped around his waist and your arms around his neck. he was strong and solid against you, and you whined at the slightest hint of friction of your core bumping his belt buckle.
“we can attone later.” it’s all he says as he’s walking purposefully up the stairs and down a hallway, the walk is long or at least it feels that way when you’re nearly drunk from desire.
your back hits something soft, you realize it’s his bed as he’s climbing over you. you sit up, unbuttoning his shirt while he’s doing the same to your pesky jeans. his shirt is unbuttoned before he’s pulling them off you and you marvel at the sculpted muscles of his body. you're not sure if you’re drooling but you could be. he doesn’t bother to take your heels off, opting for your cardigan and crop top next. and you whine as you try to reach the buttons of his slacks, he tucked himself back in at some point and you don’t like the insinuation. charlie can’t help but laugh at you, maybe you weren’t the femme fatale he thought you were. “patience is a virtue.” he’s got you in your bra and panties splayed out under him and he relished in the sight of your lip gloss smudged. in the light of his room he could see all the sinful details of your body and he couldn’t wait to wreck every part he hadn’t touched yet. he kneels in front of you, shirt gone and his slacks unbuttoned, watching your chest rise and fall in anticipation as you maintain eye contact. he can tell you’re struggling to, the way your eyelids droop and narrow. when he’s finally bare in front of you, you’re looping your arms around his neck and pulling him down, finally kissing him and it’s as messy as you hoped for. all teeth and tongue, he bites your lip hard enough to draw blood and you groan into his mouth. he’s feral and you can’t help but arch into him, the hard planes of his body pressing so deliciously against you, you silently wish you could grind against his abs for some kind of friction. charlie pins your wrists above you with one of his hands, the other deftly unclasping your bra, an action that speaks volumes of his experience.
he doesn’t loosen his grip on your wrists even slightly, somehow in control despite the rabid look in his eyes, trailing his lips down your neck, biting and sucking likely leaving marks for tomorrow. you buck your hips into him, desperate for something, anything. he’s so hard against your core, sliding against your stomach. you can’t imagine he’ll fit, not with how far up your chest his length reaches. your thoughts are drawn back to the hot mouth that’s latching to your nipple, bitting and sucking like it’s the last thing he’ll do. charlie groans around your breast, massaging the other one with his hand rough palms creating a friction you try to get closer to. he’s slurping and biting so roughly you’re whining without realizing, tears pricking your eyes from the sharp pain. it’s so devastating you think it might be the way you want to go out.
and when you feel you might just come from his mouth on your breasts, he’s moving off you with a pop to his lips. it’s reminiscent of your actions downstairs and his cock twitches at the image. he leans back to take a look at his work releasing your wrists, bite marks and bruises littering your shaking chest and his lips curl in a smile. you think you’ve never seen him genuinely happy until now. he stays out of your reach kneeling between your spread legs and you almost complain until he’s peeling your underwear off you, it’s sticky and you revel in the cool air finally grazing your heat. charlie’s eyes are inexplicably drawn to how you’re nearly dripping onto his sheets, the light illuminating how badly you needed him, and from the looks of it it was just as long as he did. you can’t help the moan slip from your mouth when he’s biting his lips and spreading your folds to watch a fat wad of arousal drop down to your ass.
your pleasure ends when you see him leaning down for a taste, far too gone for any more foreplay. you need him and you need him now. you’re twitching when you slide your fingers into his hair, drawing your gaze to him. the hunger in his gaze doesn’t dissolve but the black of his eyes seems to soften when he sees your wrecked expression.
“please i need your cock, now please.” you’re begging and charlie can’t say no to that. he’s been aching for what feels like forever. he coos at your request, wiping the tears you didn’t even notice were falling and moves back on top of you, the satisfying weight against you calming whatever worries you had. but he doesn’t give you what you want. his fingers, still spreading your folds dip into you, there’s zero resistance from your sopping entrance, but the stretch makes your eyes roll back. “please.” you don’t want his fingers, you don’t care if he splits you in half at this point.
“relax baby,” he’s soothing you as best as he can when he just wants to sink into you. instead of focusing on where he can make you unravel, he scissors you open, getting impatient himself. you hum at the shift, bringing his lips to yours with a hand still threading through his hair. when he adds a third finger you groan at the stretch. “so tight darling, you won’t be able to take me.” he’s purring at you, teasing you. you can’t string the words together to dissuade him. when he’s satisfied you’re stretched enough he pulls back, licking his fingers and groaning at the taste. devine, just like he expected.
despite your wishes he’s leaning back, tapping his angry cock head against your clit, and you realize his words may be true. your legs slide over his shoulders like they were made to be there and when you look down at your entrance, panic creeps in.
“i don’t think it will fit.” he watches your eyes widen, your brows furrowed in genuine concern. it’s comical.
“where did my good girl go? you were just begging for it.” he’s teasing you, laughing at the way your wide eyes meet his. without you responding, he slips his head towards your entrance, catching on it and slipping away, fuck you were so tight. you whimpered at the feeling, trying to slink away from him but he tightens his hold on your hips. you realize, albeit far too late, your heels are still on and very much on his shoulders.
“it won’t fit.” you’re pleading with him, for what exactly you’re not sure. and then he’s leaning down, pressing the tops of your thighs back towards you, folding you in half, his lips not quite reaching yours.
“i’ll make it fit.” without warning he’s nudging at your entrance again, bullying his way in and you whine and jostle at the feeling. it’s too big, the stretch too much and you feel tears prick your eyes. he’s tearing you open, ruining your for anyone else and you can’t find it in you to care.
when the tip is finally in you breathe out in relief, there’s still an ache between your legs and you know you’re dripping onto his sheets but you think the worst is over. you don’t know you’re far from it. because while charlie is a man of faith, of perseverance and virtue he can’t hold back from how addictive your pussy is. the tight hug of your cunt around his tip drives him to ease his full length into you without warning. you paw at his chest, eyes rolling back as he pushes his way fully in nestling against your cervix and curving inside you. making you gush out more liquid than you knew you had. in fact, it’s so much you’re not sure if you’re squirting or you just came. the pain and pleasure mix into one and you think scream his name. you swear you can feel him in your ribcage and you choke out a breath.
he’s barely holding himself still when his balls finally rest against you. your walls are molding to him, and he think he might have died and gone to heaven. “so fucking tight, you were made for me.” a deep groan leaves him before he can hold back and you whine at the sound, clenching down on him and making him only more painfully turned on. you can feeling him throbbing inside, carving you out, the veins of his cock pressed against.
when you begin to squirm under him, still not used to his size but not in pain, he starts moving. every time he moves out he feels he has to push back in, your poor abused cunt is gripping him so tight, he feels bad even pulling out. the burn becomes so intense and every time his tip bumps your cervix you twitch beneath him. he presses a sweet kiss to your ankle over the strap of your heels before pressing his hips down and reaching even deeper. you cry out his name at the change in position and then he’s drilling into you like he wants you to be ruined forever. you don’t know where your orgasms start or end as he continuously fucks against your most sensitive spot, your mind numb from pleasure and the only word leaving your lips is his name and cries of pleasure.
he’s no better, he swears he might be addicted to you. the way you call out his name, the way you clench around him when he groans and how you seem to still get wetter from his thrusts. he hopes you don’t blame him when he feels himself getting close already, from the look on your face he realizes you might not be able to think at all. his pace is cruel, driving you into the mattress and likely denting the wooden floor.
your mind is fractured into a million tiny pieces; the only thing you know is that you need him. and when he’s close he’s pressing into you like he wants to get you pregnant, he’s breeding you, making you his and you come again. there’s no room for his cum inside you, so it’s leaking out the sides and he can’t have that, not after how good you’ve been, how well you take him, so he’s scooping it back up and fingering it inside you all the while pumping you full. you don’t know when you started crying but you can taste the saltiness of your tears when you pull him down for a kiss, savoring in the drag of his tongue along your teeth and you suck on it slightly, still hungry. he wishes the moment could last forever, but begrudgingly he pulls out and swallows down your whimper. how could he ever begin to atone for this? he had a feeling he would be begging for forgiveness for the rest of his life, there was no way he could forget you.
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generalsmemories · 2 years ago
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Admiral, the general is touch-deprived.
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader
✧ based on the ask: "Please do one if you haven’t where Jing Yuan is severely down bad for reader and makes it known to everyone and they are just done with him"
✧ content: established relationship, fluff, make-out scene, humor, mentions of other characters
✧ a/n: where did almost 100 of you come- bless this ask for making me write needy jing yuan i love you. not beta-read again anyway buckle up this is another one of unfiltered shame for my love for one mere general with a silly thunder lord that he nicknamed shin-kun in the jp dub because the official title was way too long for this old man.
this was written in a google doc on the phone since I'm on vacation so I apologize if the formatting is messier than the first post 🫡
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There's tension in the air.
"... As for Stargazer Navidia, there seems to be another onslaught of mara-struck cloud knights making their way within the area in the next few days. I'll appoint Lieutenant Yanqing to lead a few troops there by the next hour, but be sure to send a messenger cycrane if the situation gets too out of hand or you need to divide the troops up to cover more ground."
You hear a loud "Yes!" as you flip over to the next page, quickly scanning through the documents contents, purposefully ignoring the tension in the air, muttering the details lowly to yourself with a furrowed eyebrow.
It's the sort of tension you wish everyone just ignored, even though it's more difficult than it sounds.
Perhaps being fed up with your avoidance of ignoring the elephant in the room, one of the captains of the Knights loudly cough into the air before meekly addressing you, "Admiral [Name]?"
"Yes?" you look up with a smile, cocking your head to the side. A small gesture to ensure the captain that they have your full attention which makes the knight before you quickly glance to the side and away from you, although that didn't help the pair of eyes boring a hole into the side of his head, "The general…" he starts, coughing once again while glancing back and forth at you and the weapons displayed at the seat of Divine Foresight, "... Would very much like your attention, it seems."
As if on cue, the arms that were wrapped around your waist squeeze a bit tighter than normal. The sudden pressure makes you let out a grunt of surprise while Qingzu lets out another exhausted sigh. Meanwhile you glance down to lock eyes with Jing Yuan, who very much is staring at you with a small pout evident on his lips, "Oh so my darling has finally acknowledged my existence?" he jokes with a grin, meanwhile you merely stare down back at him with a neutral expression before resting your left arm carrying the paperwork on his gray head. The general uses the opportunity to nuzzle his face into your waist, playfully biting into an exposed part of your skin from where his hand had wormed itself underneath your shirt, making you squirm away from him, to which he immediately grabs your back into his hold.
"If you haven't noticed dear, you're practically leeching onto me to the point I can't even stand at my usual side, that is to per say in front of the desk and not literally quite next to you and within your arms." You whisper to him gently. Flicking his forehead before whipping your head around to address the Cloud Knights before your husband can say anything in his defense.
You ignore the looks of disbelief on some of the soldiers' faces.
"I apologize for the awkwardness this position may cause, I can only hope for your understanding being that I've been away from the Luofu for a few months helping Marshal Fua with some matters at her fleet. I've only recently come back." you explain, gesturing Qingzu over to hand over the paperwork to her before waving your hand with a guilty smile, "You're all dismissed, please be safe out there."
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"Lady Fu Xuan, how may I be of assis-"
"Are you two arguing or something?" Fu Xuan interrupts before you can even finish your sentence which leaves you staring wide eyed at her with your mouth agape, "Pardon? I'm not quite sure who you're referring to-"
"The general. I'm referring to general Jing Yuan, who else would I be referring to? He sits around the seat of Divine Foresight like a kicked puppy. Which makes it even harder to get any information in OR to him because he's not even mentally present! Can you fix him? Wonderful! Let's make haste to the seat."
You're not even allowed to finish your cup of tea or give an answer before the divination commissioner grabs you by the forearms and drags you out of the teahouse.
"Jing-" you haven't even taken one step into the seat of Divine Foresight before you're surrounded by the familiar scent of your husband. A gentle hand placed by your head while an arm is tightly wound around your waist. You can practically feel the smile of utter glee on Jing Yuan's lips as he buries his face into your hair.
"Darling, I thought you had the day off today?" he mutters into your hair, sounding a bit too happy to have you in his arms again to the point he's ignoring the death glares from Fu Xuan besides you, the divination commissioner just wanting to do her part of keeping the Luofu afloat.
"I was having my day off, before Lady Fu Xuan here dragged me out because someone didn't-" you struggle free to nag at him, but your husband merely smiles softly at you before lifting your chin to give you a quick kiss, "Now that you're here I feel more energized than ever, let me finish the paperwork for today and I'll join you, we can even play a round of starchess." he suggests.
You can practically sense Fu Xuan roll her eyes in disgust, able to hear her mutter about a "lovesick fool" before walking past the two of you, Jing Yuan merely grabbing your hand to lead you towards the seat.
So much for a day off.
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You can't breathe.
"Jing-" another press of his lips onto yours as you find yourself pressed on the wall beside the door, "Yanqing-" you manage to breathe out when finally able to pull a tiny bit away from him. Pressing your hand over whatever surface of his face you can reach to try to shove him away, your other hand occupied with bracing itself against the wall.
Your husband ignores your literal hand on his face, somehow having more strength to still slant his lips across your own despite your efforts, the hand he has behind your head pushing you further against him while he shoves a leg between your own to keep you still, "Train-"
There's a rather loud set of knocks on your bedroom door followed by an exasperated sigh coming from behind it, which makes you freeze but Jing Yuan ignores it, sliding his tongue over your teeth while you resign yourself to slam your fist repeatedly on his back to get him to back off.
"General! I know you missed [Name] a lot during the months they were away from the Luofu, but you know that today is supposed to be a training day!" Yanqing shouts from behind the door, and you feel sorry over the realization he's aware of what's happening beyond it.
Feeling sorry enough for Yanqing whose probably already waited 15 minutes before knocking at the door, you muster whatever little strength you have left against your husband's addictive lips to grab his ponytail and yank him off and away from you.
Jing Yuan merely grunts in irritation, looking at you with a glare and swollen lips, but you ignore him. Opening the door before Jing Yuan can grab you again and giving Yanqing an apologetic look, "I tried-"
"It's better than last time, at least." He points out to which you merely sigh before opening the door wider, "I'll give you more pocket money this month, how's that for compensation?" You suggest, shoving your husband out the door before he do anything else, Yanqing smiling in triumph at your generosity.
"You're the best! Give me extra if I manage to land a few hits on the general?"
"5 more than usual and I'll give you an extra thousand." You settle, tapping Jing Yuan on the shoulder. Your husband turns around to face you with a hum, and you lean in to peck him on the cheek, gliding your lips over to his ear, "If you're a bit nicer to him today you'll also get a reward."
Needless to say, there were two very happy boys onboard the Luofu at the end of the day.
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ckret2 · 3 months ago
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I might tweak some details later (jewelry? take the ribbon off the bow?) but I've about got a Scalene design I like. The lipstick is really the centerpiece of the design. Now let's infodump! With more art!
🔺 Notice her lines are a a little curvy. It's not for artistic effect. She's got a Fictional Polygon Physical Disorder that makes her bendier than she should be—meaning, among other things, sides that curve and flex.
🔺 It's also the kind of condition with symptoms that are romanticized by people who don't grok that it's a debilitating medical condition. Sides that curve and flex? How exotic! This went to her head in the wrong ways.
🔺 Bill was born with the same condition. You know how squishy and blobby he was as a baby? Thaaat's genetic! He was a lot squishier than most babies! And, consequently, more adorable.
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🔺Scalene dreamed of being a famous super model. Was actually a teen beauty queen at mid-tier beauty pageants. She thinks it's always somebody else's fault she wasn't more successful.
🔺 She took Bill to his first baby beauty pageant the day he was born. He did, in fact, have a Best Baby Ever award presented to him by the mayor, but to be fair he was only competing against like 6 other babies and who's going to withhold a trophy from a newborn on his birthday? Anyway the 6-12 month group and 12-24 month groups also each had a Best Baby Ever award.
🔺 This was an absolutely bonkers thing for Scalene to do.
🔺 What's that small scrunkly thing doing at a pageant, he can't even see color yet.
🔺 Their fictional squishy medical condition doesn't just accidentally make shapes cute. It's the kind of condition that affects just about all parts of the body: sides won't stay straight, poor muscle tone resulting in instability & weakness, poor motor coordination & clumsiness, back aches & pains (well, triangles don't have "backs." side aches?), easily dislocated joints, and increasingly skewed sides with age. Just about everyone in Scalene's family is born equilateral and ends up extremely scalene after young adulthood. The rest of her family have normal relationships with their condition, she's the only one who's weird about it
🔺 She was very rough on her body in pursuit of pageantry success, but her physical symptoms & associated chronic pain got a lot worse due to having a kid; she had to retire from pageantry for good. She doesn't blame Bill for this at all. Out loud, to his face. (If she hadn't been so rough on herself in pageants, having a kid probably wouldn't have impacted her health this much. She doesn't consider this.)
🔺 She's weirdly intent on seeing Bill become the success she wasn't. He's her little golden child, he deserves to be seen as the greatest! He'll show them how great he is for mommy, won't he? He won't let mommy down, will he? When he's very young, she takes him to child pageants—he'll appreciate the lessons they taught him when he's older—and this lasts until he finds out he can get out of it by pyrokinetically setting the stage on fire.
🔺 She jokes ("jokes") that she didn't realize that when she was having a kid, she was firing herself from the pageant circuit so she could hire & train her own replacement. These jokes had no long-term impact on Bill at all!!!
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(Compare/contrast: how we're told Stan's "You watch the movie, you scare the girl, the girl snuggles up next to you, next thing you know you gotta raise a kid, your life falls apart" is repeating something he heard his dad say.)
🔺 Did you know that squeaky baby shoes are sometimes medical devices? Squeakers help children with poor muscle tone and delayed motor skills learn how to walk correctly: it makes them want to walk on their heels instead of their toes so they can hear the squeak. Did you know sometimes oversized squeaky baby shoes are worn by young kids who need ankle braces? Did you know that kids with poor motor coordination can take a longer time to learn complicated motor skills like tying shoelaces rather than using shoes with velcro straps? It sure is interesting that baby Bill's most defining visual feature is oversized squeaky sneakers with velcro straps and that he kept wearing velcro shoes until he was 16!
🔺 As a baby, Bill's angles were technically supposed to be equilateral,* but thanks to his inherited condition, his angles were so loose his top corner practically formed a right angle. Not good: the closer a triangle creeps to being obtuse, the more likely he'll have muscle strain and medical issues from his organs being squished out of place by his own exoskeleton.
(*supposed to be equilateral: but after receiving treatment, they discovered his angles were still 60º, 60º, and 60.1º, which is mathematically impossible for a triangle... on a euclidean plane. But on a non-euclidean 3D plane, such as in spherical geometry, a triangle's angles can add up to more than 180º... and it's this slight 3D flex to Bill's body that lets him see up into the third dimension.)
🔺 For his first few years of life he actually had a hypotenuse, until physical therapy and side braces helped him improve his muscle tone. Sometimes he still reflexively refers to his base as his hypotenuse. It's fine, sweetie, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, mommy had a hypotenuse too. Don't tell anyone.
🔺 Scalene took baby Billy to a lot of doctors as a kid, just like how she was taken to a lot of doctors! Doctor for his side braces, doctor for his physical therapy, doctor for his shoes... doctor for his eye when he started talking about seeing white glitter at the edge of his vision. Scalene didn't have that symptom, but the eye doc said their condition does occasionally come with visual problems—blurred vision, lazy eye, visual field defects... It sounds like Bill's main field of vision is unobstructed, but if the visual snow he's getting in his peripheral vision is distracting him and confusing his little toddler mind into thinking it's something real, they can give him a medication that'll narrow his field of view. From the sound of it, he's not seeing anything important at the edge of his vision, anyway.
And she only wants what's best for her golden child.
🔺 Scalene's "bow" is actually a medical device: sort of like a medical corset, it helps tug and press her anatomy into place to reduce pain. Bill started wearing one preventatively—if he can keep everything in place when he's young, it'll take longer for his angles to skew when he's older. Like wearing a retainer when you get your braces out.
🔺 He has a cane for the same reason—he doesn't need it NOW when he's young, but he might as well keep it on hand, by age 35 he'll probably want to stand more often than float and when he's standing he'll probably want the extra support! Even if he doesn't need it by 35, he will eventually!!
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🔺 Bill doesn't medically need a bow tie in the third dimension either; but he adapted it to help tie his 3D exoskeleton on.
🔺 A trillion years later, Bill suspects that his mutation to see the third dimension came, at least in part, from his mom's medical condition. Except, she didn't have that vision. Nobody else with the condition on her side of the family had that vision. It's not a known symptom of the condition. His dad had stuff going on with his eye too, did he get it from his dad's side? A mix of both? Just a standalone random mutation? He doesn't know; and with the rest of his species dead, there's no way for him to find out.
But back to Scalene!
🔺 She's not quite red, she's rose gold. However she doesn't like it. She thinks it's a sort of pinkish brown and very dull. She uses makeup to make herself look redder. Note how bright red her sides are: in a species where only your edges are visible, body paint is the most common form of makeup+fashion. She's pleased her baby came out gold-gold, it's much cuter. Bill knows she's rose gold, but he only saw her with her makeup off when she was tired or sick; he remembers her painted red.
🔺 She adores her Billy; but she somewhat sees him as an extension of her will. She thinks he's just perfect and will tell anyone who asks; but she also demands he be perfect and is furious when he isn't. She'll protect him from ANY perceived external threat; but she'll tough love him into being the kind of success she thinks he should be. He learns early that when he screws up, he can often redirect his mother's anger by pointing his finger and saying it's someone else's fault, and she'll bring the wrath of heaven down on them. Woe to the teacher who gives Bill an F on a test.
🔺 I'm on a quest to write Bill as a foil to the entire cast of Gravity Falls, and that extends to writing his family as a foil to the entire cast's families. Scalene's a blend of Pacifica's mom and Caryn: beautiful, proud of her beauty, afraid of losing her youth, self-aggrandizing, quick to lie about her & her family's (false/exaggerated) accomplishments—and very aware of the fact that you can say anything about woo-woo mystical matters and nobody can prove you wrong.
🔺 So she takes it great when they figure out Bill is, like, legit psychic. And by "takes it great" I mean "starts a cult."
There's what I've got on Scalene. Fortunately, I got to keep all my pre-TBOB headcanons about Bill's mom, I only had to change her shape & color. I already had medical trauma baked right into the family!
(Preemptive disclaimer before I get any "but she doesn't look 2D" comments: we all understand that the baby Bill picture we see in the book is a psychically-generated 3D approximation of Bill's 2D Euclidean form, right? And that drawing a 3D baby Bill design alongside rigidly 2D parent designs would make it look like even in the second dimension Bill already had a 3D body, right? So, if we're drawing a 3D baby Bill and want to convey that they looked similar to him, we have to draw his parents in a similar art style, right? Okay, great.)
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