#because the best way for him to help his loved ones is to force political change

[tarre-was-right]

@professorscrooge:

Additional Propaganda: Satine has raised (or was some kind of parental role to) a nearly model citizen/future politician who wanted to help people, uphold justice, end corruption etc. From what little we see of him, Satine passed her ideals and drive on to Korkie. Jaster trained/traumatised his adopted son into becoming one of the galaxy's biggest war criminals.

@raspberryzingaaa:

#yeah i dont care im still pro jaster lmfao not sorry #listen you also cant actuallu fully judge what their prowess was bc both had circumstances that were being affected by the sith #satine was only allowed to reign for so long because having a weak mandalore was good for palps #also you cant fully decimate a culture and call it ruling. like not even just the armor but everything alse #and its also very hard to tell what is true based on the cartoons bc were all the mandos blue eyed blonde bc of animation reasons? #bc one of the old mando things was adoption and a broad mix of species. #but yeah we cant really/fully tell bc of the sith influences. but imo i think the guy the sith Really didnt want in power might be best #and i am absolutely not a satine hater. i love her and i repect where shes coming from #but also the rep com books were an influential part of my teenage hood (for better or for worse)

(I did promise to share even the arguments that are based in fanon. Sorry.)

@prankprincess123:

#listen - this is quite possibly an actual political debate that (at least part of) mandalore actually had in canon #cause jaster died just a handful of years before satine came to power and was relevant to the circumstances surrounding such #and in an ideal universe youd have the supercomandos and new-mandalorians finding equal ground #and working together to deal with death watch (who ultimately took down both groups and helped blow up the planet) #but jaster is enough of a mess that he was one of the triggers of the civil war that ultimately put satine in charge #and she took this disaster and turned it into a functional government/culture/system and kept it that way for ~20y #and the only reason it didnt stay functional is because *checks notes* the sith decided they dont like her #like how competent of a ruler must you be for the cult thats been trying to destabilize your rule to turn to evil wizards for help #and how much of a widespread force for good must one be to have an evil wizard cult decide that you specifically need to die #satine should win by a landslide

@ironborealis:

#Mereel's reforms were the stepping stones to Satine's succesful rule #But his vision was too small #Satine and Mereel BOTH struggled with corruption inside their ranks #The way she tears off on a speeder to rescue Kenobi in her first episode? #Satine isn't afraid of a fight #she just wants to prevent unnecessary conflicts #some of y'all don't understand the philosophies of nonviolence at all #Satine can be as ruthless as any other Mando #She will not hesitate to fuck someone up #She literally burned a fucking warehouse full of evidence because she wanted to send a message that corruption was not tolerated

FINALE - You might want to read the propaganda this time. Lots of misinfo in fandom on these two in particular.

Remember, this is NOT about who would win in a fight. This is about who makes the best leader for Mandalore as a whole.

Explanation post

Seeding

Propaganda below the cut! You can submit more on this post and I will reblog it back to here! I was going to keep the text-only bits above the readmore, but we got enough in that it takes up more space than I thought.

Yes, I will even reblog the stuff based on fanon, but I will judge you for it.

SATINE KRYZE

Anon: Satine because she served. Mandalorian fashion week would love her. Manda'slay.

Anon: Satine Propaganda: Was supported by the STRONG MAJORITY, led Mandalore to be in peace for NEARLY 20 YEARS, didn't ban mando'a or armour or any part of the culture like fandom claims, is a good fighter, considered EVERY Mandalorian a Mandalorian and didn't discriminate

@lightsaberwieldingdalek: Satine propaganda: she actually ran a functioning government. Not a mercenary band, or a death cult, or a terrorist extremist organisation, an actual functioning government. Yes there was corruption, corruption she did her best to stop to the point of personally getting in firefights with smugglers, but she took a planet devastated by civil war and by the end of her rule she had schools, public works, and a justice system. - Sure, the rest can run military operations (and we don’t know Satine couldn’t, only that she *won’t*) but can they make the bins get emptied regularly to go to the recycling plants?

@lightsaberwieldingdalek: I understand Jaster has the tacticool appeal, and has the iconic armour, but guys. He did an interpretation of some problematic historical values for the more modern day, led a mercenary band, and under unknown circumstances his group started calling him the historical-cultural title of the ruler of their entire cultural group. I know he’s cool looking, and shoots real good, but at most he’s the equivalent of someone who could be a cult leader but doesn’t want to be. - Meanwhile. Satine. You have issues with her ethical code, and she’s not a cool cause she doesn’t wear the armour. And yet she is the one who *actually ran mandalore*. For 20-ish years, and not only kept it stable but built it up from the ruins of civil war! - Yes yes T-helmet cool and military man competence nice, but that cannot equal taking the ruins of a war torn society and turning it into a mostly peaceful (when terrorism happened it was a big shocking deal, not normalised) urbanised people who eat well, have access to luxury and specialised education (get a offworld Jedi to come lecture) and can ACTUALLY BREATH IN THE ATMOSPHERE RUINED BY ALL THE WARLORDS LIKE JASTER TRYING TO FIGHT THE REPUBLIC TO PROVE THEMSELVES.

Anon: Satine propaganda: she knows what the aftermath of war is like. Jaster knows war from a soldier's perspective, a commander's perspective. But Satine knows it from a noncombatant's perspective. She's seen the aftermath and wreckage it leaves behind. Rebuilding after a war takes far longer and likely costs more than the war itself. I don't think Jaster cares about what happens after the battle. But Satine most certainly does.

@archangelsunited: Efficient and long lasting leader of her faction for years, was able to navigate neutrality with the Republic during the Clone Wars. Excellent Hair pieces.

@publiusmaximum: She allowed her society to experience it's first moment of peace and prosperity in a thousand years. - After she was killed, her society was taken over by fascists and gangsters. In short order Mandalore was razed, made uninhabitable, and her people scattered. - Satine was right about everything.

JASTER MEREEL

Anon: Jaster is the one who should rule Mandalore and all Mandalorians, although he started small he searched to make a new code of conduct for Mandalorian bounty hunters, he tries to keep the culture intact yet keep Mandalore progressive and not stuck in the past and from killing each other.

@spacetime1969: He literally rewrote what it means to be Mandalorian, and he created an entire movement around said philosophy that had a good chance of becoming the controlling party of Mandalore if he hadn't been assassinated. What more do you want?

Anon: Jaster for the win, he's the most recent one who actually knows some shit (as much as I love Din Djarin this poor man doesn't know ANYTHING), besides Jango and Boba but they're both very unstable individuals.

@nerdpickle: Jaster, his philosophy perfectly balanced tradition and reform, keeping the best of both worlds, he was also one of the few people chosen by the people

Mereel is a strong and powerful leader. He defeated the traiter Tor Viszla in battle and even took in a poor, orphaned Concordian child after the battle. No more will Mandalore be forced to consider such petty ideals as peace in order to avoid outright war. Instead, we shall be known throughout the galaxy as the greatest mercenaries the galaxy has ever known. Under his rule, we shall triumph over the foolish savages of planets unconquered and be paid handsomely for it!

Anon: Mereel is a strong and powerful leader. He defeated the traiter Tor Viszla in battle and even took in a poor, orphaned Concordian child after the battle. No more will Mandalore be forced to consider such petty ideals as peace in order to avoid outright war. Instead, we shall be known throughout the galaxy as the greatest mercenaries the galaxy has ever known. Under his rule, we shall triumph over the foolish savages of planets unconquered and be paid handsomely for it!

@archangelsunited: Had a structured document for Mandalorian Culture in the modern (tm) day. He fought with the warriors he sent out and took personal interest in the results of his actions (Jango Fett mentorship). Pissed off Tor Vizla.

@nerdpickle: Satine’s Mandalore was like Switzerland, except without the well trained military, incredibly advantageous terrain, high gun ownership and giant nuclear armed alliance providing a free buffer zone on all sides.

SATINE

@bosooka: Originally here

i wrote way too much for my original draft of this (and it turned into a "fuck jaster mereel" party) so here's an abbreviated version

Why Satine is a Better Ruler Than Jaster in 2 Simple Points

Point #1: Satine actually maintained order on Mandalore for decades

This one is simple. Mereel became Mandalore in ~60BBY and Tor Vizsla tried to overthrow him a mere two years later (and nearly succeeded). He was only in power for six more years before he was betrayed by the very same violent people he allowed to remain by his side because of his belief that a Mandalorian warrior was "merely a highly-paid soldier".

Contrast Satine: ruled from approx. 42BBY until 19BBY, a reign of 23-odd years. For twenty-odd years of her reign New Mandalore was completely peaceful and there were no challengers to her authority among the people or elsewhere. Death Watch only became an issue again when they received Separatist (and ultimately Sith) backing, and Dooku discarded them for being useless. Had Death Watch not allied itself with Maul's Shadow Collective I don't think she would have been overthrown at all.

Point #2: Satine kept Mandalore out of places it didn't belong

As we've established, Mereel had no issues with Mandalorians being mercenaries, used however their clients saw fit. I won't go into the weeds of the ethical implications of mercenaries and why they are illegal under international law on Earth, but in short: letting anyone pay one to kill others is the easiest way to become the cudgel of a fascist. Coincidentally exactly what the Fett clones become when Sidious uses them to exterminate the Jedi. Mereel's "reforms" of the Mandalorian ways did not prevent his troops from getting into a fight they couldn't win against the Jedi on Galidraan (and yes, the Mandalorians shot first:

not that anyone in the fandom remembers this...) after they but an insurrection down on behalf of the corrupt governor of the planet. To be clear, the True Mandos knew that the governor of Galidraan was corrupt and most likely harboring Tor Vizsla, but they still agreed to kill "insurrectionists" for money. Their problems came when Death Watch arranged to make it look like they had also killed women and children. Truly a war between saints and monsters.

Meanwhile Satine: the head of the Council of Neutral Systems, she refused to take sides in a war pushed by the greedy and violent. Yes, she was briefly protected by clones when it comes to light that Death Watch is aligned with the Separatists, but it was immediately followed by the Republic attempting to militarily occupy Mandalore and Satine risking life and limb to keep her people autonomous. Satine refused to become a useful idiot for warmongers, even knowing that it would have been economically advantageous for her to do so. Unlike Jaster Mereel, she has ideals that she values more than credits. He would have accepted an offer from the highest bidder and turned Mandalore into a machine of war for the Sith, just like his Crusader ancestors once did.

Tl;Dr

Satine was actually respected as an authority on Mandalore for literal decades and was only challenged by a miniscule faction of terrorists who had to get foreigners to interfere in their political processes (FML) in order to actually take power from her

Satine kept Mandalore out of conflicts it did not belong in, which largely protected it from military occupation and destruction until the year she died; Mereel made a career out of interfering in the affairs of other planets if they were paid to do so

Unlike Mereel and his successor, Satine had morals to motivate her decisions that were not the pursuit of cold hard cash, including the protection of Mandalorian independence and neutrality

[235uranium]

I do think so much about louis' ending though. he spends all this time realizing who he is and how he'll never be satisfied living as a Normal Wealthy Herbivore... but has to make the painful decision to go through with an arranged marriage so he can use his position of immense privilege to force political reform. and he's like, 20.

[ciciyup]

Yandere! Apollo X fem! Human reader headcanons.

cw: Little nsfw, obsession, possessiveness, dark themes, cheating? (I don't know how I should categorize it, but it's not a direct hoax), angst, kidnapping, forced marriage.

🏹 a/n: This is the first yandere! What do I do, I hope I did well. I was feeling quite inspired so I think a little story formed as well.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

Apollo has never been one to worry, he is the epitome of beauty, no other God in the pantheon was as beautiful as he was. Being surrounded by women and men who are not only there beside him, but also queue for his attention, is something Apollo enjoys, attention and all eyes on him was something he loved.

He doesn't need to lower himself and have less, he must have all the best, that includes the most beautiful people, which was not a problem. Nymphs, goddesses and even mortals, rained down on him in droves, although the latter could not matter less to him.

Sometimes, among the millions of mortals that inhabited the earth, Apollo chose those who could stand out the most and had a unique beauty to take them with him. Sure they had always been adventures, he had fun with them, but that was all.

On one of his many trips around the earth he found you. He saw you picking oranges from a large tree, carefully storing them in your basket that was almost full. You were... Perfect. Your hair moved in time with the pleasant breeze of the day, your eyes were brighter than the stars, your smile could heal sore eyes, your voice was like hearing the singing of angels. You were so beautiful.

He didn't care much about you at first if he had to admit it. You seemed very common, very normal, just another mortal woman, however, something made him go to you. He didn't need to do much, just introduce himself and talk nonsense. You were nothing but nice and kind, you offered to help him find his way if he was lost, you asked him if he was hungry and offered him an orange.

He just looked for silly excuses to make more time and get to know you better, he lamented when you told him that your family was waiting for you and you couldn't stay. He watched your form as you left his vision until you were lost, your beautiful floral dress disappearing into the crowd and being replaced by sad shades of colors from people walking on their own path.

What made you so special? Was it the way you were so kind and modest with everyone else? Was it the way you saw things? Apollo, not having enough, kept seeing you regularly on different occasions, strangely always appearing out of nowhere when you were alone in some places or doing your own tasks. At first, it didn't seem strange to you, you thought it was just a coincidence, which made Apollo take advantage of your naivety even more.

Apollo thought you would fall at his feet as soon as he saw you, he wouldn't even need three days to leave you enchanted, but then it happens and he hits reality. He discovers that you are not interested in him in the slightest, at least not in the way he wants. You don't even worship the gods, you're not interested in them, you don't bring offerings or pray to them like other mortals. You don't lose yourself in him, you don't beg for attention, you don't adore him, you just see him as if he were just another man and that made Apollo's blood boil.

So when Apollo proposes to you and to go with him, you politely decline, feeling flattered, but refusing because you don't love him and you don't feel the same way. Apollo's face contorts, his brow furrows quickly and he tries to hide his inner side as best he can. His ego felt hurt, was he rejected by a mere mortal?

You move on with your life, Apollo seemed to have taken it well and wasn't upset, that's what you believed after he left. When you think everything is fine, he arrives silently to take what is his, what belonged to him from the beginning. No more games, there would be no more facades of the just and understanding God, he lets the true face of the coin come to light, then you don't have time to react.

He takes you, sees you walking towards your house and surprises you there. Your basket falls with a thud and the fruit falls scattered all over the floor, but no one else was there anymore.

Upon arriving at his kingdom, Apollo introduces you to it as your new home, showing you all the places keeping you close, holding your wrist so you wouldn't run away, even though there was nowhere to run, you were too far from earth and you wouldn't be coming back, he would make sure of that.

You resist for a long time, you don't want to talk to him or look at him or kiss him or touch him, you don't want his presence. Apollo doesn't want to be mean to you, he really doesn't, but your impertinence pissed him off, and when you didn't learn things there were consequences.

He pushes you into a room after you refused to sleep with him in what would be your shared room, the room was cold and almost empty, it had a mirror and a small couch, it didn't seem to be very frequented by anyone, since you could even see cracks in the walls. He dared to leave you there for almost four days, without seeing you even once, without leaving you food or water or any other basic resources, and when he decided to see you, believing that you had learned your lesson, he found you on the floor of the room almost dying.

You were pale, your lips dry, you could barely move, your stomach hurt from the lack of food and your throat was crying out for some water.

As he carried you to his shared room and laid you there, as he watched you eat the food voraciously and drink more than six glasses of water, as he watched you rest covered by the finest and warmest blankets on his bed, yes, now you would learn that things would be his way, you had no say in any decision, you would only focus on him.

And even after you became his beloved, faithful and devoted wife with the finest jewelry and the most beautiful dresses, he would remain the same, not even for you would he change. As you sat on a rock in front of the beautiful landscape of the place thinking about everything he had taken from you, Apollo was no less than a meter away from you in the hot springs with the nymphs at his side, each one laughing and talking to him, hugging and tracing his chest with their thumbs at the slightest opportunity. He relaxed with each one, every now and then, ignoring your presence, ignoring your pain.

Still, he refused to let you go. He didn’t care about silly nymphs, they were just for hanging out and feeling adored, if he didn’t have you he had nothing. He wanted you by his side, in the hot springs, on another throne next to him, in meetings with other gods, he wanted you.

It was only a matter of time, he would fuck you so hard you would carry his child and then he would finally have you with no chance of escape. He would take you every night in his marital bed and fill your belly until it was full and swollen, he would bury himself deep inside you to fill you again and again with his seed and he would claim you. You were his. You were from the first moment he saw you.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

🏹 a/n: I didn't think I would like it so much but in the end I really liked the result. I wrote it in less than two hours, although it is revised I am sorry if there are any errors. I was thinking of doing more yandere! For other characters, I like the theme. I have ideas for the next one so wait for it (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

—cici🏹

[sorchathered]

Let’s do IT for our country

Pairing- President!Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader

Warnings- smut smut and more smut, breeding kink, language, mentions of pregnancy, us politics, I think that’s it?

Summary- Robert Floyd had never wanted to be the president, but here in the Oval Office on inauguration night with his First Lady? He could get used to nights like this.

A/N- It’s that time again! Another IBFFM, but this time with an older version of our sexy WSO. Mr. President is about 45 here, his First Lady is in her mid 30’s.

Also it’s @bobgasm ‘s birthday present!! Happy birthday to my precious Steph, love you so much baby!!

For as long as he could remember, Robert Floyd had been told he would be great.

His family name was synonymous with the likes of Kennedy and Roosevelt, the Floyd’s were some of the most influential in political history, and with that came high expectations. You must go to a prestigious college, you must serve your country (whether that be as a civil servant or military member), and you must marry the right kind of person. They talked about it as if they were breeding horses, and it never made any sense to him, so long as he found someone kind and supportive all of the bullshit that his family expected mattered very little to him. He would tick off whatever boxes they wanted, but it would be on his own terms.

He went to the US Naval Academy after high school, refusing to hop onto the Ivy League lifestyle his grandfather so desperately cherished. Moving on to aviation as a WSO and then becoming one of the top 1% in the country in his field. It was a distinguished career to be sure, but he’d been adamant that he had no interest in pursuing a political career, and certainly not the presidency.

He still wasn’t sure what had brought him to this point, or how he’d somehow managed to bag his dream girl in the process. A feisty junior senator from Delaware, good family, strong morals and drop dead gorgeous to boot, you’d been his match in every way. Sure you had hated his guts, he was the golden boy and you had dealt with his kind your whole life. But after a particularly long day in the senate he’d asked you to dinner, and while you’d had half a mind to tell him no the prospect of a free meal wasn’t worth passing up. So in a dingy dive bar with greasy burgers and cheap beer, you took a chance on him and fell ridiculously in love.

Four years had passed since you’d both sat in the creeky wooden booths of that shitty bar, and it felt simultaneously like yesterday and a lifetime ago. His family had pushed him into politics and while he had been adamant in the beginning that he would never pursue the presidency, the world had changed dramatically since he first refused the mantle. He may have hated the pageantry of it all, but at his core he truly did want to help people, and they certainly took notice. He’d run a clean and honest campaign with his best girl by his side, and won in a landslide. Everything moved very quickly from Election Day to Inauguration Day, it almost felt like he had blinked and he was here, wandering the halls of the west wing after skipping out on the last two of 10 gaudy inaugural balls he’d been forced to attend. He’d been going since sunrise and still couldn’t seem to get the jitters under control so he could rest; he suspected it would be quite a while before that feeling went away. Shaky hands moved to open the door to the Oval Office, completely renovated and designed by his beautiful wife to fit his style and personality, you’d made sure he would want for nothing, he’d be spending so much time in this room and it seemed only logical to make it a calm and safe space for him and his thoughts. It felt so much like his office at home, even down to the worn leather chair and the soft scent of sandalwood and tobacco from the candles you bought because it reminded you of him. You had told him you’d be heading to change and wouldn’t be gone long, he had plans to unwind with a bottle of bourbon and maybe a game or three of checkers, but as you slipped into the spacious and hallowed room belonging to the commander in chief, he nearly jolted out of his skin. There you were, his First Lady, in a skimpy little silk robe, intricate updo long gone in favor of soft curls, and the adorable little fuzzy cat slippers that he’d bought you for Christmas.

“Good evening Mr. President” you said with a smirk as you locked the door and padded over to his desk. You’d chosen well, the beautiful mahogany writing table had belonged to Theodore Roosevelt, and while it hadn’t been used in many a president’s term, you had made sure it was painstakingly restored and ready for his first day. Now that you were here, all he could seem to think of is how much fun it might be to test the sturdiness of the surface, perhaps he did need to blow off a little steam after such a stressful day…

“Sweet girl, you do realize there’s cameras everywhere right?” He said as you pushed his chair back just enough to fit between his thighs, very gently sitting on the edge of the antique escritoire. This desk had seen many a scandal, so many historical events, and you were quite sure she should handle the weight of what you had planned next.

“Already got that covered, Phoenix is on surveillance right now, you can go ahead and go dark Nat!” You said in the general direction of where they’d mentioned cameras were placed, a notification on your phone let you know she’d confirmed that the two of you had thirty minutes all to yourselves and you broke out in a blinding grin as you leaned forward to press a kiss to Bob’s jawline. The sharp intake of breath and his hands immediately going to your hips let you know he’d need this just as much as you, it had been embarrassingly long since the two of you had been together, and you filed away the notion that you would need to make sure you had the right security in play to make quickies like this a regular occurrence, policy be damned.

You’d drawn his lips to yours as you untied his tie and began unbuttoning the front of his dress shirt, his hands had drifted to palming your ass as he licked the seam of your mouth, a gasp from you was all he needed to slide his tongue against yours, squeezing you a little more roughly and all but pulling you into the plush office chair.

“Fuck I missed you,” he breathed into your mouth, you’d nearly gotten his dress shirt removed when he slotted his knee between your legs, large hands gripping the back of your thighs as he placed you back on the desk, this time swiping whatever loose papers off the top and sending them cascading across the plush carpet that held the presidential seal. You squealed and giggled, watching with rapt attention as he removed his dress shirt and exposed the defined freckled skin of his arms, pulling his undershirt off with less finesse as it joined the pile of papers on the floor. “I’ve never found a president to be sexy until just this moment, I have to admit, you look damn good in this office, sir” you said as you leaned back on your palms and ogled him, heat crept up his cheeks and chest at your praise, but his eyes had darkened at the honorific, you knew exactly what you were doing to him, and he could feel his dress slacks getting uncomfortably tight as you ran your bare feet up and down the back of his legs.

“You wanna be a good girl for me Madame First Lady? Let me lay you out and devour you where anyone could walk in?” His voice grew impossibly deeper and you let out a whimper in response, shifting to try and get some relief. You did want that, you wanted it so badly you could scream, it was the very thought of being dirty and unladylike for the man you loved that had you so hot and bothered, and he trailed one long finger down your sternum to remove your robe, fire in his eyes as he opened the sash and found you completely bare for him.

“Goddamn it, should have known you’d do this, you know exactly how to wind me up don’t ya? Whole world wants to know how to bring me to my knees and all they’d have to do is weaponize you and this perfect pussy.” He was completely fixated on your arousal glistening between your legs, and while normally you’d let him take his time, you knew it wouldn’t be long before some aid or agent came by to make sure he had everything he needed for the evening. If they only knew.

“Bobby, please? Don’t have a lot of time baby” you said as you squirmed on the polished wood and searched for some kind of relief. He seemed to snap out of his haze as lust clouded eyes fixed on yours, letting his index finger trail down your stomach and through your folds, watching your head fall back and chest heave at his teasing.

“Need to hear you say it sweet girl, you know what I want.” You blushed in earnest, he loved how dirty you could get, but that had always been behind closed doors in the comfort of your own home, you’d be mortified if anyone heard some of the things you’d said in the throes of pleasure; but it was his big day after all. If he wanted it, you’d give him the moon.

“Need your mouth on me Daddy, want you to make me cum and then fuck me with your big dick. Please? Please give it to me, ‘s been too long, fuck - I-“ you babbled at him as he continued to rub that one long finger up and down, it was maddening and had you choking on your words, thankfully he didn’t make you wait, spreading you open and pressing two fingers into you as he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around your clit. The relief was immediate, you moaned out into the empty room as he went to work on your aching pussy, drawing tight circles with this tongue as he scissored his fingers inside you. It had been weeks and he knew he’d need to get you ready, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was going insane over the little noises you made and the iron grip you had on his hair, tugging at his scalp as you bucked up into his pretty face to search for your release.

It was startling how fast he got you there, you were certain you were dripping down onto the desk now, wet smacks and moans coming from between your thighs as you peeked down to look at his deep cerulean eyes. He was too damn good at this and he knew it, had the audacity to wink at you as he nibbled on your clit and with a gasp you came all over his face, watching as he wiped his mouth with his arm and smirking like the cocky bastard he was. He controlled the entire free world now, but he would still consider it his greatest accomplishment that he could render his pretty wife to a babbling needy mess with his tongue. Disheveled looked good on you, blush spread across your cheeks and chest, hair a mess, and your release all over your thighs from what he intended to be one of at least three mind blowing orgasms.

You looped your heavy arms around his neck and kissed him languidly, you didn’t seem to be as worried about the time anymore and for that he was thankful. He wanted to take his time, and if somebody walked in they would find out very quickly to knock, he couldn’t give a shit about anything other than getting his cock inside you.

You knew the rule all too well; no visible marks. It had been that way from the very beginning, which was unfortunate because you wanted so badly to mark his pretty neck up and make sure everyone knew he was yours, but the compromise was that you could leave them anywhere below the collarbone, so as he fished for the condom he’d stashed in his pocket (hoping to end the night just like this), you licked down his neck and began nibbling on the flesh of his pecks, sucking a nipple into your mouth and looking up at him as his jaw went slack. “Oh Christ, you gotta stop that baby or we’ll be finished before we even get started” he panted out and tried not to buck up into you, the hand gripping your thigh was sure to leave a mark but you couldn’t give a shit, there was something so powerful in being able to bring the most powerful man on earth to his knees, and even better knowing that he was insatiable for you.

“Then fuck me Mr. President, and you don’t need that condom either. I think you should put a baby in me, fill me up so good that I’m dripping with you all day tomorrow.” You grinned at him but he looked completely debauched, he ran a hand through his graying sandy locks and blinked down at you, almost at a loss for words.

“You little minx, you’ve been just waiting all day to drop that on me haven’t you? Need me to cum in that pretty pussy and get you good and knocked up? Fuck you’d think it was my birthday or something, I don’t know how I got it so good.” He said as he spread you out and ran his hands all over you, you were whimpering and grinding into him and he was sure he’d pass out if he was any harder, slipping himself out of his briefs and sliding his length through your slick. You were trying hard to be quiet, sure it was late but there was bound to be someone on watch, Bob gripped your chin as he slid into you and kissed you sloppily, all teeth and tongue and moans, shallow thrusts to get you ready turned rough when you sucked his bottom lip and pushed your hips up to take him to the hilt. You gripped the front of the desk behind your head and let him pound you into it, the need for quiet long forgotten as you alternated between crying out and calling him daddy.

It didn’t take him long before he was close, the aftershocks of your second orgasm seemed to keep him gripped so tight that he could barely think straight, he was furiously rubbing your clit to get you there again as he watched tears drip down your flushed cheeks, he’d never forget tonight for the rest of his life. Not all the fanfare, not even the immense weight of the mantle he was about to take, but this moment right here, wrapped up in his gorgeous wife as he fucked her silly in the Oval Office. You wailed out “I’m cumming” as you gripped him tight with your pulsing heat and he tumbled over the edge right along with you, warming you from the inside out as he filled you up.

You cradled his sweaty form in your arms as you both came down from your high, giggles erupting from him as it really set in what you two had done.

“Ah shit, well everyone’s gonna know that we can’t keep our hands to ourselves after this, I imagine the press will have a field day.” He kissed your nose as you grinned at him, both of you still joined together but neither of you ready to separate.

A loud ring came from his phone and it sent a jolt through both of you, wide eyes trained on his as he leaned forward and grabbed it off the hook. His eyes were full of mirth as he nodded his head once, twice and bid them goodnight, pinching your cheek with his free hand before hanging up.

“What was that all about?” You said, trying to push him up so you could get decent and off his desk.

“That was Nat, she said we need to hurry the hell up before me going MIA causes a national emergency.” He was joking of course, but the secret service agents at the door couldn’t look either of you in the eye as you shuffled down the hallway with Bob’s hand in yours, and it was no surprise to anyone when you turned up pregnant by the state of the union.

Tagging- @bobgasm @attapullman @bobfloydsbabe @floydsglasses @sebsxphia @roosterforme @sunsetsimpsblog @seitmai @auroralightsthesky @withahappyrefrain @hangmanapologist

[waywardxrhea]

loml - a Spencer Reid one shot

pairing: Spencer Reid x former BAU!fem!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: ~15k (this one's a beast whoops)

You left behind the BAU years ago and have been working as the captain of the police force in small town Montana when a string of murder-suicides catch your attention and you start looking into them. The BAU is called in and you become overwhelmed by feelings surrounding your ex-boyfriend Spencer Reid as you attempt to investigate this case and clear the air between the two of you.

content: canon-level violence, blood, swearing, anxiety, idiots in love

now playing: loml by taylor swift

not my gif, dividers by @firefly-graphics, and once again shoutout to my bestie @westernbitch for helping to come up with case details for this one!

A sharp knock broke the silence of your office and you looked up to see one of your reporting officers at the door with a look on her face that told you something terrible happened. “What's going on, Kate?” you asked, placing the file you were holding down onto the desk to give her your full attention. 

She sat down in the chair across from you and taking a shaky breath, she whispered, “There’s been another murder-suicide… It was Natasha and Hayden…” 

“Oh my God I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do for you or your family right now?” you asked, getting up and making your way around the desk to give the younger officer a hug. 

Kate’s sister and her boyfriend had taken off nearly two months ago for their freshman year at UCLA and weren’t due back until Thanksgiving. Maybe the pair didn’t agree on their majors like they originally decided or got spooked by the big life changes and decided that this was the best course of action. He did have a history of prior juvenile battery charges… Nonetheless it just wasn’t sitting right with you… Not after two other murder-suicides within the last four months. So after sending Kate home to be with her parents and remaining sibling, you went to investigate the crime scene. 

When you got back and had some time to do some thinking, you called one of your detectives into the office. “You wanted to see me?” came his voice as he stepped into the office a few minutes later. 

You stopped your fast-paced writing of theories to offer a polite smile as he sat down across from you after closing the office door. “I wanna see if you can connect the same dots that I am, Josh.”

“Okay, shoot,” he says, leaning forward with an eager smile. Josh had joined your squad a few months ago as a rookie detective and he was always ready to look into anything that came across your desk. 

“Six months ago the Fenways went away to mourn his cousin’s death in Florida. Then before anyone even knew they were back home, they both turn up dead in what was ruled a murder-suicide,” you started, tapping your pen along the paper sitting on the desk in front of you. “Then the Greenwoods turned up in the same situation a couple months later after going away on an Alaskan cruise.”

“Maybe that was the breaking point for both men. Everyone knew their marriages were on the rocks for months before that happened,” Josh said in a contemplative voice as he leaned back into his chair. “Losing a relative and driving all the way down to Florida and back could have caused some tension that made him snap. Same with being stuck on a boat for a few weeks. I heard they weren’t allowed to dock and were stranded on board for a week or so because of a conservationist protest. That would make anyone’s temper short.”

“That’s what I thought too,” you agreed. “However, Natasha Quinn and Hayden Welkins just turned up dead in another apparent murder-suicide.”

“No way!” Josh said, his eyes widening in shock at the news. He ran a hand over his chin and asked, “Is Kate okay?”

“She’s at home mourning with her family. She’ll be off for the next few days but I’m taking her off of this investigation,” you replied. 

“Investigation? Why is it a-?” he said, but then paused in the middle of his sentence. “Wait, you think there’s someone behind this, don’t you?”

“That I do,” you affirmed with a nod. “One was a tragedy, two could be a coincidence, but three? I think someone’s behind this. It could be someone manipulating them into killing.” You looked at the pictures of the dead bodies in the file you began creating and sighed. You scrunched your eyebrows together and shook your head as you said, “There’s so far been no signs of physical torture on the victims. They were all found days post-mortem in wooded areas off of trails though, so their bodies were worse for wear so we can’t exactly rule it out. Even then, psychological torture is a viable option.”

“So maybe the trips away weren’t even real… Maybe whoever is doing this created fake letters to send to all of the victims to make everyone in town aware that they would be gone so suspicion wasn’t raised…” Josh said as dots began to connect in his mind. “And as much as I hate to say this, Natasha and Hayden may have been a crime of opportunity. They could have been driving home exhausted when something happened and they were grabbed.”

A proud smile made its way onto your face at his theory and you nodded, telling him, “Exactly what I was thinking. Whoever this unsub is is getting sloppy and we’re going to get to the bottom of it.”

“W-wait, us? You want me on this?”

“As a rookie detective you just deduced what I did as a former FBI agent with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. You’ve got what it takes, Josh. So yes, I’m asking you to help me out with this case,” you said with an encouraging nod. “This is a small town and people talk, so let’s get out there and see what anyone knows.”

“Yes ma’am!” he said, jumping up from his chair and turning toward the door with a spring in his step. 

“And Josh?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“This case is on a need to know basis so it stays between us unless I tell you someone else is allowed to know about it. Got it?”

“Got it!” he said while giving you a two-finger salute and a sideways smile. 

“So be subtle!” you shouted with a laugh as he exited the office and set out to begin his investigation while you conducted yours. 

A few weeks later you were making some headway in the investigation on the murder-suicide case. One crisp November morning when you and Josh were talking with someone over coffee about what they knew of the Greenwoods and their supposed vacation, you heard a scream outside of the diner. With your eyebrows scrunching together, you looked outside only to see a man holding a woman in a chokehold with a gun pointed to her head. 

Rushing out of the diner, you made your way to the area near the fountain where he was at and held up your empty hands to show that you meant no harm. When you got closer you finally recognized the man and woman standing in front of you. They were a married couple that had moved to the town a couple of years ago after vacationing in the area. From the outside they were a happy couple, but you had heard around the rumor mill that she had cheated on him on occasion when she was drunk. 

“Hey,” you began in a soft voice, one you would use if you were approaching a skittish animal so you didn’t spook it off. “Hunter, can you please put the gun down? We can talk okay? Just let Hanna go and we can talk things out.”

“No!” he shouted, pointing the gun in your direction to fend you off. “She deserves this! He told me so!”

“What did she do to deserve this, Hunter?” you asked softly as you creeped closer slowly. All the while, the emaciated woman just stood there catatonically in his hold. There was no hint of light in her eyes and if you didn’t see her breathing you would have guessed she was already dead. “Who told you this?”

“All you women are the same! He told me that all you do is lie! All you do is take advantage of us and then leave when it’s convenient for you!” he shouted, voice strained and eyes with a wild look in them. It was a look you had seen too many times during your time in the BAU, but before you could take further action to try and talk the man down, the first shot already rang out followed in quick succession by the second. 

A whirlwind of emotions filled your body in response to the event and they paralyzed you as you stared at the pair of bodies on the ground in front of you. Shock, disbelief, horror, confusion. A roaring sound filled your ears as your mind flashed to the day you decided to leave the BAU, but your thoughts were torn away from that time when you felt hands on your shoulders gently shaking you back to reality. “Captain. Captain! Are you all right?” came Josh’s voice through the cotton feeling in your ears. 

“I need to call Emily…” you whispered in reply, the back of your hand going to wipe away some of the blood that had spattered onto your face and was starting to slowly drip down. It hurt your pride to call in your former team and you have always dreaded the day you needed to, but you knew that you were in over your head trying to solve this on your own anymore…

“Okay, will everyone gather around? We’ve got a case,” Emily Prentiss announced to her team as she strode into the bullpen of the offices of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. 

“What’ve we got this time?” Tara Lewis asked as she looked up from the paperwork she was finishing up at her desk. 

“It appears to be a string of manipulated murder-suicides up in Montana. I have it on good authority that the latest victim was implying that someone convinced him that his wife deserved to die and then he took his own life shortly after hers,” Emily informed the team as they gathered in the area. “The other acts were not witnessed but I’m sure if we did a deep dive into their personal lives we would find evidence that the other male victims believed the same of their partners. This is the fourth murder-suicide in the town in five months and the unsub seems to be getting more brazen with his acts so we’re wheels up in thirty.”

“Fourth in five months? Why did the locals wait so long to contact someone?” Luke Alvez asked, the corners of his mouth turning down into a frown at the thought of someone letting this go on for so long. 

“Because the captain is a former one of ours,” she replied, shooting Luke a look that said to not reprimand the actions of the officer. “She was working the case herself and was beginning to make headway when the unsub set the latest two out to commit the act in the middle of downtown. Happened right in front of her. This case is escalating and it’ll take more than one set of trained eyes on it to catch this guy.”

“A former one of our own? Who is she talking about?” JJ asked quietly to no one in particular.

“Oh I know exactly who she’s talking about…” Penelope Garcia said quietly with a glance in the direction of Spencer Reid who seemed none the wiser about who their unit chief was talking about. 

JJ followed Garcia’s glance and quietly gasped as she asked, “You don’t mean-?”

“Yes I do mean!” Penelope said conspiratorially as she leaned in closer to the blonde. “When she left, Spencer never contacted her because he was so broken up over Maeve’s death that by the time he was finally in a headspace to process the breakup and her leaving the team it was far too late to try and make amends so he just never did! He doesn’t know where she went and she cut off all contact with the team except for me and it’s been a secret that I have hated keeping for so long because I know we all loved her so very much!” Penelope took a deep breath and let it out as she slouched back in her chair as if keeping that in all these years was a heavy weight that had finally been taken off of her shoulders. “You can’t tell him though!”

“Why not? He deserves to know that he’s going to be walking into his ex-girlfriend's police station!” JJ whispered back. 

“If you had a nasty breakup with someone would you want to know you were heading to meet with them and have to stew in that anxiety and uncertainty for hours on the plane ride there?” Penelope asked, a stern look in her eye as she once more straightened up in her chair. “That big brain of his would work overtime trying to figure out what to say so that you would make zero headway on the case!”

“Fine…” JJ relented. A small smirk graced her lips as she added, “I’ll keep you in the loop with how awkward he gets.”

“You better!” Penelope said. An air of seriousness washed over her for a moment as she added, “I know this case may dredge up a lot of old memories for Spencer so can you just keep an eye on him?”

“Of course,” JJ replied. Penelope smiled in return before heading off to her office with a file of information to look into on the victims. 

Time went by paradoxically during the wait for the BAU to show up at your station. It went slowly because you dreaded the looks on everyone’s faces upon seeing you after nearly four years with no contact. As you showered the blood off of yourself in the staff locker room, your mind once more flashed back to the day you decided to leave the BAU. 

It had been months of feeling distant from Spencer as he got closer and closer with the geneticist you pushed him to go to in order to get to the bottom of the headaches that had been plaguing him on and off for some time. Maeve Donovan. May she rest in peace, but she was the reason your relationship with Spencer fell apart… As their talks got deeper and he opened up to her more, you felt like you were sloughed away from Spencer’s life, brushed off so he could take calls with her and discuss what for the most part never even sounded like his could-be battle with schizophrenia like his mother… 

You remembered the day he had wrapped a book to give her when they decided to first meet. You couldn’t even remember the name of the book, but the returning feeling of heartbreak made a quiet sob escape your mouth as you scrubbed the shampoo into your hair harshly. The dam finally broke as you remembered the day that you and the whole team took time off of the clock to help Spencer out with getting to the bottom of who was stalking Maeve and making her fear for her life. Tears flowed freely from your eyes and dripped down into the soapy water swirling into the drain as you pictured Spencer sobbing over Maeve’s body as she too was killed in a murder-suicide. Hearing him whisper the words that you hadn’t heard in weeks of “I love you,” to her as he cried was what sealed the deal because in your heart you knew Spencer didn’t love you anymore. 

It took a few more days to make the final decision but in a whirlwind of anxiety you had made many phone calls back home to your parents and they encouraged you to take some time away from the BAU to come home to Montana and figure things out. So you put your notice with Hotch in and quietly broke things off to a catatonic Spencer who was so bereft following Maeve’s death that he didn’t even react to the breakup. 

Once back home you spent a few months piecing yourself together before moving for a job offer you felt like you couldn’t refuse and since then had been promoted to Captain after a year. It wasn’t ever what you planned for your career, but life has a funny way of guiding you in the direction you’re meant to go. 

Turning to face the shower stream once again, you scrubbed your face with your face wash one more time to ensure you got all of the blood off before turning off the shower and beginning to dry yourself. You wiped away the steam from the mirror in front of you and looked at your reflection, squeezing your eyes shut as you pictured the blood on your face again. When you looked back up at yourself again, it was obvious that you had been crying so you made quick work of getting dried off and into a fresh set of clothes that Josh brought from your house before heading to your office to try and freshen up with the meager set of makeup you had in there. 

You were surprised to see your entire makeup collection on the desk and as you sat down to begin working the makeup on, Josh popped his head into your office, saying, “Hey Cap! Lindsey went with me to get your stuff and we grabbed all of that for you. Said something about seeing your ex-”

“I told you not to tell her that!” came the voice of another one of your officers as she made her appearance in the doorframe. She shot you an apologetic look and said, “I’m sorry I knew I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s just that-”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” you said before forcing a cheery smile on your face at the pair in front of you. “Thank you two for getting the clothes and makeup from my place, I appreciate it.” You resumed your makeup with slightly shaking hands as you asked, “Now can you go make sure the work area is in the order I requested? Whiteboards and markers ready, corkboard cleared of the meme wars, desks available, coffee brewing with plenty of sugar because I know we were almost out earlier this morning.”

“Yes ma’am,” they chorused before taking off to get the space ready for the team’s arrival which would be… in less than an hour. 

The hour flew by as you went over the case file once again and you jumped as you heard a knock on your door that pulled you out of your concentration. Looking up, you couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto your face as you said with quiet enthusiasm, “Emily! It’s been a while. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well. As you know I got promoted to Unit Chief after Hotch left. I see you’ve been getting some promotions too,” she said warmly as you stood up and offered your arms out for a hug which she accepted. “Garcia?” she asked simply and you knew she was asking how you had kept up with things in your absence, so you nodded. When you pulled away, she glanced at the notes on your desk and asked, “Are you ready for the brief with the team?”

The question made your heart jump in its cage. “Who all is left from my days on the team? What new faces can I expect?” you asked, trying to tiptoe around the elephant in the room. 

“Spencer’s here if that’s what you’re getting at,” she replied softly as she reached down and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. 

“Damn profilers,” you said jokingly before taking a deep breath and gathering up your files to take to the main area of the station to meet with the team. 

Your heart hammered in your chest so hard you could practically feel it jumping up in your throat as you approached the meeting area. You busied yourself with your papers as you and Emily made your way over, sweat beginning to dampen your hands the closer you got. You practically stopped breathing when your eyes looked up and met Spencer’s. He looked as handsome as ever, maybe even more, and all at once you felt everything rushing back, waves of emotions threatening to engulf you as you struggled to breathe under his gaze. 

Spencer looked like a deer in headlights when he spotted you and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking at that moment. The look on his face suggested that no one told him that the case was being manned by you and while it made you happy that Penelope kept her word, you weren’t sure if the look of shock he was sporting was a good or bad thing… 

You were ripped away from your anxious thoughts and Spencer’s eyes as a cheer in a distinctive accent broke through the chatter of the office. Your name was called enthusiastically and you turned in the direction of the sound to see David Rossi sporting a wide grin as he held his arms out to embrace you. “How’ve you been kiddo?” David asked as he embraced you quickly before holding you at arms length to survey your features that had no doubt matured since he last saw you. 

“The last 24 hours or the last four years?” you asked with a quiet laugh. “I’ve been making it though. Can’t complain.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said before turning you toward the rest of the team and telling you, “That’s Tara Lewis and Luke Alvez, they’ve joined the team since your departure. I’m sure you’ll love them!”

You offered the two of them a smile before suddenly you were being pulled into a hug by JJ and when she pulled away you couldn’t help but wonder how the hell you were supposed to greet Spencer. You were always a hugger, everyone knew it, and you actually shocked the office when Spencer let you hug him just a few days after you joined the BAU. But that time felt like a distant memory and your eyes turned to the ground instead of looking back at the man who used to bring you so much comfort but at the same time, more than ever you wanted so desperately to be in his arms…

Thankfully you didn’t have to make a decision on the matter because Emily’s voice cut through the quiet roaring in your ears as she said, “Yes, yes we all missed her, but we can get back to the reunion later. Right now we’ve got an unsub to track down.” She called your name before asking, “What do we know?”

You cleared your throat and went into work mode, telling the team, “So far we have eight victims.” You began placing pictures of the scenes on the table as you listed off their names, “First was Nora and Henry Fenway who we as a town thought went off to Florida after Henry got the news that his cousin passed away. Big Catholic family who wanted to perform a lot of traditional stuff for the funeral. They were found over a month later by some tourists hiking through the trails on the outskirts of town.

“Next was Theresa and Harry Greenwood who were set to embark on an Alaskan cruise and got stuck in the water due to some conservationist protest. The protest story checks out, but when we called the cruise line a week or so ago, there was never a record of the couple on board, so we think that the cruise package they were boasting about winning was a ruse to make sure that the rest of us knew they were expected to be away for a while. They were found dead near a river off of a popular hiking trail.

“Third was the sister of one of my officers. Natasha Quinn and her boyfriend Hayden Welkins were thought to be off at UCLA for college but were found dead in an abandoned cabin that has been a known squatting location. Kate told us that there wasn’t too much contact from her sister during the time, but they all put it off to her being busy with school.”

You took a deep breath and tried to push the memory of the latest shooting out of your mind, but you could tell that your voice was distant as you detailed the latest pairing. “And just this morning it was Hanna and Hunter Newberry. He came out into the middle of downtown with Hanna in a chokehold and shot both her and himself but not before saying that ‘he’ told him that she deserved it.”

“Do we know anything about who ‘he’ might be?” JJ asked. 

“No idea,” you replied. “Josh and I have been doing some digging to see who started the rumors about the protest with the cruise, but it became a dead end when the first person who heard it said they just heard someone on the phone talking about it but they didn’t remember when it was or where they were.”

“You said that Kate’s sister didn’t have frequent contact. Does that mean she still texted occasionally?” Luke asked. 

“Kate and her family were getting occasional check-ins from Natasha, yes,” you confirmed. “Kate told me that the texts were pretty short for the most part though and that they didn’t really seem like her usual style of texting. She put it off to being busy between classes and trying to get into sororities though.” 

“I’ll have Penelope look into that,” Emily commented, taking down another note on the notepad she had in her hand. 

Your heart skipped a beat once more as Spencer’s voice cut through the air as he said, “All of the men’s names start with an H. I wonder if it could be the first initial of the unsub and he’s expressing himself through these killings. Maybe this is some twisted fantasy of his and he’s acting it out.”

“So you’re saying he might have an endgame?” David asked thoughtfully. 

“Yes, and I don’t think he’s going to stop until he gets her,” Spencer confirmed as he pondered over the photographs you left on the table before stepping away. 

“Then let’s get to work,” Emily said. She called your name to get your attention and informed you, “Tara and I will interview you about what you saw this morning. Spencer get started on the geographical profile. David head to the medical examiner’s office to see if there’s anything you can find on the bodies. Luke go see if you can get CCTV footage from the businesses around the crime scene. JJ start working with Josh to interview the other witness from this morning to see if she knows where the couple came from. I’ll patch Penelope in so she can get started on a list of men whose names start with an H that live in the area.”

“So can you walk me through exactly what happened this morning?” Tara asked you as you sat across from her and Emily in an interrogation room half an hour later. There was a part of you that for some reason felt like you were in trouble, but you understood the reason behind it. It was the easiest way to record the conversation and keep distractions from factoring into your memories of your encounter. 

“Josh and I were speaking with a cousin of the Greenways to see if they could give us some insight into how their marriage was when I heard a scream outside of the diner,” you replied quietly, eyes focused on the metal table between the three of you as you tried to remember everything. “When I got out, there was a bystander. She was the one that screamed and Josh took her away to make sure she didn’t get hurt.” You began picking at the sleeve of your sweatshirt as you continued, “I didn’t recognize the couple at first, they both looked worse for wear. Hunter is usually clean shaven but he had a wild beard that clearly hadn’t been taken care of and Hanna looked like her hair hadn’t been brushed in days… He had this wild look in his eyes and she just…she looked practically dead already.”

“How do you mean?” Tara asked curiously. 

“Well…there was no light in her eyes. Her cheeks were sunken in and she wasn’t even fighting. She just stood there,” you replied. “Even when Hunter was shouting and waving the gun there was no reaction whatsoever.”

“And what was Hunter shouting?” Emily asked. 

You paused for a moment and thought before replying, “He said, ‘She deserves this! He told me so!’ and then when I asked what he meant and who told him that he said something like, all women are the same and that he was told all we do is lie and take advantage of men and then leave when it’s convenient for us. And then…” you let out a sharp breath and closed your eyes as you remembered what happened next, “then he shot her and then himself.” You dabbed a tear away from the corner of your eye before adding, “I was so close to him when it happened… I… I just froze. Their blood was all over me and I just…” you didn’t even know how to finish your sentence as you let out a shaky breath, trying to hold your tears back and keep your hands occupied by messing with the hem of your sweatshirt. 

“It’s been a long time since you’ve been so close to something like that,” Emily offered quietly. 

“Exactly…” you whispered. “It reminded me why I left the BAU. When my anxiety and depression got so bad and I just couldn’t take it anymore… The job, life, everything was just too much. It broke me.”

“And that’s completely understandable,” Tara said empathetically, giving you a warm smile. There were a few moments of silence that were filled with her taking notes before she offered, “If you need a minute alone we can cover for you until you’re ready to go back out there.”

“Thank you,” you replied with a nod, leaning your head down onto your arms and feeling the cool metal of the table on your cheek to try and ground yourself before you slipped off into another breakdown. 

Meanwhile outside of the interrogation room, Spencer stood there with his heart breaking. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear JJ approach until she asked, “What are you doing? I thought you were supposed to work on the geographical profile.”

Spencer startled a bit before sighing and telling her, “I don’t know… I guess I just needed to know where her headspace was on everything.” He ran a hand through his messy hair and mumbled, “I really messed up with her, didn’t I? She said that this reminded her of when she left and that life was making her anxious before she even decided to go… That was because of me.”

JJ sighed and gave him a quick pat on the back as she replied, “Yeah, there’s no denying that you messed up big time…” She felt Spencer tense before she finished with, “But maybe you can at least ask for forgiveness. Take her to dinner and try to make amends.” Spencer nodded and threw you another glance before turning away and going to work on the geographical profile. 

When you emerged from the interrogation room, the team was either out on their assigned tasks or grabbing lunch, so you decided to get some quiet time with your files in your office while you tried to get some food down. You were pushing salad greens around in your tupperware when your phone began to ring and you picked it up with a, “Hello?”

“My sweet, sweet friend, oh how I missed your voice!” came Penelope’s cheerful voice through the speaker as her way of greeting you. 

“I’m sorry I don’t call Penny, I just… I was afraid of-” You cut yourself off and scoffed before finishing with, “Forget it, it’s dumb. You probably called about the case and I’m getting off track. What can I help you with?”

“No, no, tell me!” Penelope protested. “It is lunchtime there and no one is calling for anything so this has officially turned into a ‘tell Penelope all of your woes’ time!” 

You laughed quietly before asking, “And there’s no getting out of it?” 

“Unless there is literally another death while we’re on the phone then no,” she replied chipperly. 

Letting out a deep sigh, you decided that this wasn’t a battle you were going to win, so you told her, “I never called because I was afraid I would just open up old wounds. The thought of if we were on the phone and Spencer came in…it terrified me.” And suddenly, without even thinking about what you were saying, you blurted out, “And now here we are with him in the breakroom of my precinct drinking coffee that I made sure we had enough sugar for because I have never been able to fall out of love with Spencer Reid!” You covered your mouth to attempt to prevent the words from coming out but it was entirely too late for that. The truth was out there and Penelope had heard every word of it. 

“Oh honey…” she said in a quiet voice. 

You knew she didn’t mean it in a condescending way, but the building tightness in your chest after she said it was making it hard to breathe. You filled your lungs as much as they would allow before whispering, “I-I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, no, no! Don’t feel bad about your feelings!” she protested from her side of the line. 

“I-it’s just…” You took a slightly deeper breath before you began rambling again, telling her, “I’ve tried over and over and over again to find someone out here but it just never works. There was even this one guy back in April that was so sweet! Penelope, he picked me wildflowers while out on his guided hiking tours and arranged them into the most beautiful bouquets! He ordered me edible arrangements and had them sent to my office! He bought me coffee every morning in the diner when I was there picking up breakfast before coming into work! Hell, on our one and only date we had a candlelit picnic and he bought my favorite wine! That shit’s expensive! But I just couldn’t commit to him knowing that someone else still has my heart…and I don’t think there’s a way to get it back.” 

By the end of your rant, your tears were falling once more and you dabbed them away with a tissue or two as Penelope sighed and said, “I wish I could give you a hug right now… I had no idea you were still feeling that way.”

You scoffed quietly before asking, “Why would you? I should hate Spencer for what happened. He fell in love with someone else while still dating me and didn’t even flinch when I broke up with him because he was so torn up about her death. But…” You shook your head and finished quietly, “He’s the love of my life and it hurts so damn bad knowing that I’m not his.”

Before Penelope could offer anything else, there was a knock at your door and you looked up to see it cracking open to reveal Spencer’s handsome face with that awkward-as-ever smile crossing his lips. “Spencer, hey,” you whispered, your breath being knocked out of your lungs at his sudden appearance as you hoped that he didn’t hear anything you just said. 

“I think that’s my queue to go…” Penelope said quietly and in quick succession you heard the tell-tale sound of the call ending. 

“Hey, can I talk to you?” Spencer asked timidly as he opened the door a bit more to fully reveal himself. 

“O-of course,” you replied, hoping that it wasn’t too obvious that you had been crying. “Everything going okay out there? You holding up okay after…everything?” 

“I’m doing fine, yes,” He said with a quick nod. “I got the geographical profile down, but it’s in a weird pattern that I’m still trying to make sense of. All of the locations are in a strange arc sort of line without a centralized location that indicates a familiar area that the unsub is comfortable in. The first three sites were more so out in hiking areas in the woods so I thought it could be an avid hiker, but the latest one was so out in the open that it makes me wonder why the unsub chose that location. He isn’t escalating because there was still time for him to psychologically torment the victims before sending them out to commit the act so I’m trying to determine if maybe this was an outlier or if it’s a part of his endgame to have used that specific spot for that couple…” 

Your heart fluttered in your chest upon hearing him rant on about the profile he had created and you hoped he didn’t notice that your eyes were practically heart-shaped as you listened to his soothing voice ramble on about the case. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight from foot to foot before adding, “But uh…that’s not what I came to talk to you about.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and said quietly, “I was actually coming in here to ask if I could take you to dinner tonight. There’s a lot I feel like needs to be cleared up between us after…everything that happened. I know it may be wrong to ask for your forgiveness after so long but-”

“Yes,” you replied instantly, unable to fight the smile working its way onto your lips at the offer. 

“Y-yes?” he asked with an undeniable sparkle in his eyes as he too gave into his emotions and let his smile light up the room. 

You nodded and were about to say something more when Emily popped her head into the office after giving a short knock on the door, informing you both, “Garcia got us a list of possible suspects, let’s get to work.”

“Yes ma’am,” you and Spencer replied in unison, and you had to fight back the giddy giggle that threatened to bubble out of your mouth at the statement in stereo. 

That evening you took a quick trip to your house to freshen up before meeting Spencer. Even though you knew it wasn’t a date situation, you still took the time to make your hair look nice and put on a dose of perfume that you remembered Spencer liking. When you pulled into the parking lot of the cafe you and Spencer agreed to meet at and stepped out into the chilly November air, you pulled your coat close as you started toward the door. 

Before you could reach out to grab the handle though, another hand reached out and pulled it for you. Expecting to see Spencer holding the door open for you, your heart gave a stutter in your chest as suddenly the reality of the situation hit you. You would likely be discussing what happened back in Virginia, and that would mean talking about Maeve and the reason your relationship ended and that scared you. Sure, you had attempted to process everything yourself, but facing it head on would be an entirely different experience in which you would have to hear what made him fall out of love with you…

Your anxiety spiked for a completely different reason though when you looked up because when you did, your eyes met the very man you turned down because you still weren’t over Spencer. “Hartley, hey. Thanks,” you said quietly as you slipped through the door and into the warm building. 

“Looking for some company?” he asked as he walked in behind you and began attempting to help you take off your coat. 

Before you could respond, the hostess greeted you by name and asked how many were in your party. “There’ll be two, Rose,” you told her with a smile and she began reaching down to grab a couple of menus from behind the counter. While you were telling her this, you pulled away a comfortable distance from Hartley and began taking off your coat and gloves on your own. “I’m meeting someone actually,” you told him simply, tucking the gloves into a pocket and hanging the coat on the rack by the door.  

“Oh, okay,” he said slowly. “Are they late? I can get you an appetizer and drink while you wait,” he offered and you noticed his eyes moving around the restaurant in search of your intended partner. 

As he said this, the small bell above the door chimed and your eyes gravitated that way to see who was entering. Raising a hand in a wave, you greeted Spencer with a smile as he joined you at the hostess counter. He quickly took off his coat and racked it before running a hand through his messy hair and saying, “Sorry I’m a few minutes late, I was wrapping up something with Prentiss at the station!”

“It’s no problem, Spence. Rose was just about to take me to the table,” you assured him as you nodded your head toward the kind woman. 

“Great,” he said as the pair of you began following Rose to the table in the back corner she knew you preferred to dine at. 

“I guess I’ll see you around,” you said quietly to Hartley who was escorted to his usual spot at the bar by another hostess. 

“Who was that?” Spencer asked curiously after the two of you placed your drink orders. 

“Something that I assume will be addressed when we talk,” you admitted, feeling heat begin to crawl up your neck. Spencer nodded stiffly and remained silent in response to the comment, the tension only breaking when Rose came back with the drinks and said she would give Spencer a few minutes with the menu. 

“So what’s good to eat here?” Spencer asked timidly after a few more moments of silence as his eyes quickly scanned the menu. 

You let out a quiet sigh of relief at the fact that he wasn’t diving into the serious talk you needed to have and relaxed a little in your seat as you began raving over the menu items that you preferred and which ones you thought should be avoided. “And we have to get dessert, the pie here is to die for!” you gushed as you pointed out the dessert menu on the back. 

“Let me guess, the coconut cream is your go to?” Spencer asked, a small smile lining his lips. 

“Always,” you affirmed, a smile breaking out on your lips. “Remember that time when I-?” you tried to start, but couldn't even get through half of the sentence before dissolving into a fit of giggles. 

“When you were bringing a pie to the office and you tripped as you were putting it on the counter and tried to play it off as a pie eating contest with Morgan?” Spencer asked with a laugh and a sparkle in his eye at the memory. 

“Yes!” you said, more laughter spilling out of you as you remembered Derek’s reaction. “I still can’t believe he actually went along with it!” 

So that was how the two of you spent the next little while - reminiscing on the better times you two had at the BAU before your abrupt departure. That was, until Spencer’s eyes drifted slightly left over your shoulder as he asked once more, “Who did you say that guy was from earlier? He’s been glaring daggers this way the whole time we’ve been here…”

You sighed and nodded. It was time to face the music. So you took a deep breath and told him, “That’s Hartley. He flirted with me for months before I finally agreed to a date with him, but… Things just didn’t work out between us. Ever since then, he’s tried to get with me again, but I always turn him down.”

“Why’s that?” Spencer asked, his posture straightening the slightest bit at your words which you tried not to overanalyze as you instinctively studied his body language.

“I… It felt disingenuous to be with someone when my heart was still back in Virginia with you…” you admitted quietly as you pushed around some of the food on your plate to distract yourself and to avoid looking into Spencer’s eyes. When he didn’t say anything in response, your heart rate kicked up and you felt your palms start to sweat as you began rambling. “And I know that may sound crazy because it’s been so long but I just never got any sort of closure with you after everything that happened so I never really closed that part of my life away and so those feelings just…never left… I know you fell out of love with me, but it just isn’t that easy on my part…”

You wiped away a stray tear that escaped during your ranting and were about to open your mouth to apologize when Spencer whispered your name in a broken voice as he reached across the table to request your hand to hold. When you tentatively gave it to him, Spencer’s large hand wrapped around yours as he said in a quiet voice, “I know that saying this now doesn’t make up for all these years of silence, but I really am so sorry for what happened.” He cleared his throat and told you, “When you found Maeve for me and I started speaking with her about my headaches I finally felt seen. I thought I loved her because she was able to help me get through something that had been plaguing me for years. I was so excited to finally understand what was happening with me that I didn’t even realize that I had started to put you on the backburner. By the time I did, Maeve was dead and you had left and I didn’t know what to do so I just never reached out…” 

“Oh… I-I’m sorry I-” you started to say after a few moments. 

“No!” he exclaimed a little louder than he probably intended because you could see a tint of red creep onto his cheeks and he slouched into himself to try and make himself smaller. He squeezed your hand before saying in a quieter voice, “Please don’t blame yourself for anything that happened. Looking back I know that you were trying to be there for me, but I got hyper focused on what Maeve was doing for me that I started to prioritize you less and that wasn’t fair to you.” 

You cleared your tightening throat and told him, “Everyone makes mistakes, Spence.”

“But not everyone’s mistakes make them lose the love of their life like mine did,” he told you, a serious tone in his voice as he held your eye contact unwaveringly. “I messed up and I know I don’t deserve it but I would like to try and make amends so I can eventually earn your forgiveness.”

“I think you’re already on your way there, Doctor,” you told him, a shy smile on your lips as your eyes darted toward your intertwined hands. 

“So explain to me again what the ME’s findings tell us?” you asked as you flipped through a file the next evening. 

“The brains of all the victims had densities and lesions in certain portions that have to deal with the capacity to have rational thoughts and feel emotions properly. We think that this happened because they were exposed to emotional and psychological torture for an extended period of time which is how the unsub manipulated them into performing a murder-suicide,” Spencer informed you quickly. 

David ran a hand over his chin before asking, “So then what did the unsub have on all of these people that made them so easy to manipulate into snapping?” 

“Well we know that he said that all women are the same and just use men, so-” you started to say but were interrupted by JJ coming up with her phone on speaker and Penelope’s enthusiastic voice coming through the speakers. 

“All of the women in these couples were wanting an out from their relationship in one way or another!” Penelope informed the group. “There were some cases of cheating or wanting a divorce or breakup or just getting out of an abusive partnership. Poor Natasha was being abused by Hayden and just wanted out…”

There were a few moments of silence before Spencer suggested, “If all of these women were trying to leave their relationships in some way then maybe that was the unsub’s stressor.”

“Maybe he was cheated on or recently divorced then,” Luke offered. 

“Right,” Emily agreed. “Garcia, can you start looking into recently divorced men in the area and cross match that with your list of men whose names start with H?” Emily asked. 

“I am on it!” the blonde replied as you all heard her fingers typing away on her keyboard. After a few moments she said, “There are a handful of recent divorcees in the area. A Harold Fenton, Herschel Brunswick, and Hester Lincoln.”

“Right, so then we start with those men and see if they have anything to do with these cases,” Emily informed the group. “It’s getting late and I doubt anyone is going to be awake at this hour for questioning, so we start in the morning and I’ll assign teams for the interrogations then. Be smart people, it isn’t going to be enough to just get an alibi for the time of the killings. We need to know where he was roughly when the couples were abducted and if he’s got other properties or a room in his house where he could have done the torturing.”

Before there could be any more discussion on the matter, Josh came into the precinct with a shocked looking woman on his arm. JJ and Tara rushed over to retrieve the woman from him and you asked quietly, “What happened?”

“She said she was out for an evening walk when she came across two recently shot bodies. Jessica Stevenson and Hendrix Jordan. Both shot in the head presumably with a pistol that was found beside his body,” Josh replied grimly. “While EMS was looking over her to make sure she wasn’t hurt, I asked around and turns out a neighbor had heard them fighting pretty loudly before she stormed out. He followed pretty soon after, but the neighbor said they didn’t see him with a gun.”

“Did you take any pictures of the scene?” you asked, your mind beginning to run a million miles an hour to try and work a way in front of this lunatic.

“Yeah,” Josh said as he pulled out his phone and pulled up the picture. 

The team gathered around the phone and each studied the photo before David asked, “Is anyone else seeing what I’m seeing?” 

“Yeah, the placement of that gun isn’t consistent with someone who just shot himself,” Luke said, his eyebrows coming together in confusion as he studied the picture. “And I’m sure once we get the ME report, it’ll show that the gun wasn’t flush with his head either.”

“So you’re suggesting that this one was a double murder?” JJ asked. 

“We don’t know for sure, so let’s not get lost in the weeds, people,” Emily told her team. “The unsub is escalating. He didn’t even take time to torture this couple. This may mean that he was triggered recently and felt the need to kill. We need to get to him before he gets to another couple.”

By the next afternoon the unsub had already struck again.

You and Spencer had just gotten back from speaking with Herschel Brunswick at the cafe when you were informed of the killings. Kaitlyn Grant and Harley Dixon, a young couple who the whole town loved, but knew he was drifting away because he was so committed to his job just outside of town and would spend long hours there. 

“Damnit!” you shouted in frustration, your fists clenching as you could feel your blood begin to boil when it started to feel like rage was consuming your entire being. 

You brought your hands to your face in an attempt to cover up the anger but they were coaxed down and held gently by Spencer’s as he mumbled in his soothing voice, “Hey, we’re gonna figure this out.”

Ignoring Spencer’s words, you whispered, “This is my fault…” With the rage taking over once more, you snapped, “This town trusts me and the sheriff to keep them safe, but in the last five months twelve people have died! Twelve!” Your tears began to fall and you practically collapsed into Spencer’s arms as you whispered, “I can’t do anything right…”

Instinctively, Spencer caught you and started running a hand up and down your back to try and comfort you. Forgetting he was in front of the whole team and your officers, Spencer kissed the top of your head before trying to calm you down. When your breathing had finally slowed and your tears subsided enough for you to feel comfortable showing your face again, you untangled yourself from Spencer’s arms and gave him a quiet ‘thank you’ before turning to face the team and your officers who had all migrated toward the other side of the room in order to give you and Spencer space. 

You were about to try and make a speech toward the team to attempt to motivate not just them but yourself too when Tara came up and placed a hand on your forearm, giving you a warm smile. “I think you need a break,” she told you gently. “This case is getting to you and I think you need to clear your mind for a little while.”

“But-” you tried to protest, but were stopped by Spencer. 

“Significant stress has been shown to measurably affect neuronal properties and cognitive functioning of the hippocampus. It’s also been found to impair memory function and the ability to recall information of which could be crucial in a case like this. Did you know that in some theories about the effects of stress on the body, the individual actually loses the ability to function in the presence of excessive stress which leads to exhaustion and potentially death?”

“Okay, not what she needed to hear at this moment, but I agree with Reid that it may be best for you to go home and take a breather for a while. Details in this case are really important and I know that you want to nail this one,” Tara told you and began walking you to your office to grab your things and help you to your vehicle while assuring you that the team had it under control.

Back in the precinct, Emily cleared her throat and announced, “Okay everyone! We know from forensics that the gun was in fact not up against Jordan’s head when he was killed and that it was actually from a distance away so we can confirm that he was killed and did not commit suicide. I bet we’ll get the same result from today’s victims. This unsub is working overtime to get our attention so we need to give it to him.”

Spencer nodded and added, “Brunswick wasn’t our guy because we were with him all morning. What did we find out about the other men Garcia identified as recently divorced?”

“Fenton is clean too, we just got back a few minutes before you two,” Luke informed him.

Tara nodded in agreement. “Lincoln too. He isn’t our guy.”

“So what are we missing?” David asked. 

“I don’t think we’re missing something. Maybe we’re just thinking too narrowly,” Spencer offered as he turned to look at the new report Josh had filed on the new crime scene. 

“Well then let’s widen our thinking. We can’t let this guy kill anyone else,” Emily said finally before assigning groups to tasks. 

After finding out that of course there weren’t any trail cameras in the area of the latest scene, Spencer was once more going over files in search of something he must have somehow missed. “Why don’t you go over the geographical profile again now that we have more victims?” Emily suggested. 

So he did, taking stray pins from the cork board and placing them in the places of the latest two crimes. What was revealed in front of his eyes was the shape of a heart. “Son of a bitch…” he whispered, looking over to Emily with wide eyes. “He’s plotted out where he wants all of these people to die in order to make a heart on a map, so it could stand to be assumed that-”

“His real target lives in the middle of that heart,” Emily finished with a grim look on her face. 

“That’s a large area to cover that doesn’t seem like it’s heavily populated, we’ll need a few teams to fan out and search the area,” Spencer said, grabbing a pair of keys from the rented SUVs they had been using to get around town. 

“Right.” Emily looked around and started giving orders to those who were back at the station, “Luke, go with Spencer in the first SUV. Josh you’re with JJ and David in the second. Tara and I will go with Lindsey in a patrol car. We have a lot of ground to cover so let’s get moving!” 

Spencer calculated the coordinates to the exact center of the heart and began driving that way with Luke in the passenger seat. On the way there, Luke broke the silence of the vehicle by asking with a smirk, “So what was going on with you and the captain earlier?”

“Old habits die hard I guess. We used to date back when she worked at the BAU,” Spencer told him. “There were a lot of cases where she needed some mental help afterward and that’s how we ended up together. She found my facts and statistics comforting because at least there was some form of guarantee to her safety.”

“That’s cute, I didn’t know-” Luke began to say but stopped short when at the same time he and Spencer noticed the vehicle in the driveway of the house they were approaching. “Reid-” Before Luke could finish his sentence though, Spencer had thrown the SUV in park and was getting out with his gun pulled from his holster. “Reid, think rationally here! Just because her house is the one you think may be in the middle doesn’t mean-”

With his gun drawn in one hand and his phone in the other, Spencer dialed Penelope as he and Luke made their way up the winding driveway, keeping to the tree line and in the shadows of the fading sunlight. “How may I be of assistance Doctor? I-” Penelope started chipperly.

“Did she ever talk to you about her relationships since leaving?” Spencer asked quickly. 

“She? Who do you-?” she tried, but was quickly interrupted by Spencer blurting out your name to hurry her along. “Oh! Just one she told me about the other day! She said that back in April this guy tried to get with her but they just went on one date.”

“Hartley…” Spencer muttered under his breath. “Garcia, try to find anything on a man named Hartley in the area, that’s the last man she dated. Call Emily with whatever you find and send her to my location.”

“Got it!” she said before ending the call. 

“Reid, what's going on?” Luke asked urgently. 

“The first couple was abducted back in late April, after she rejected a man named Hartley. He was at the restaurant we went to the night before last and was glaring daggers at me the whole time. I don’t think that it’s a coincidence that those two couples were killed so close together after that night…” Spencer told Luke quietly as they approached the house. 

Spencer just about reached for the doorknob of the house before Luke snatched his arm away and sharply whispered, “Don’t! You’re smarter than that! What’s gotten into you man?”

“It took me two days to figure out that she was the target of the unsub when it should have taken me two minutes after dinner that night! If she gets killed then that’s on my shoulders since she rejected him because of me!” Spencer whisper-shouted at him. 

“Then we need to do this right and take him down quickly and quietly. We can’t just go in guns blazing,” Luke said before releasing the grip he had on Spencer’s arm. He listened for a moment and motioned toward the back of the house, telling Spencer, “I hear two voices coming from that direction of the house. Let’s start there.”

When they got to the back of the house, your voice and a male’s voice could be heard from inside having a conversation about dinner and flowers. Luke’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he whispered to Spencer, “It doesn’t sound like she’s in danger…”

Spencer peered around the corner and risked a glance into a window, noticing how your eyes flicked in his direction before taking the conversation into the next room, making sure the man who was with you followed. So Spencer motioned for Luke to follow behind him and he noticed that this room was near a backdoor that the pair of them could use to get into the house if needed. 

That time came when, straining his ears to hear, Spencer heard you say, “Do you like literature? I think my favorite line is from Macbeth. Act one, scene five, lines 64-65.”

And with that, Spencer kicked in the door to the house and pointed his gun toward Hartley as he announced, “FBI, don’t move!” 

Luke came in shortly after Spencer, also with his gun raised as Hartley grabbed you around the waist and held the gun loosely near your head as he let out an almost maniacal laugh. When he took in the two men across the room from him, he shook his head and said, “How fitting that it’s you who came to her rescue? You two really had a connection the other night at the cafe and it made me realize that it was you this whole time! You’re the asshole who made her turn me down! You’re the reason my heart got shattered into a million pieces! It isn’t fair that someone can break a heart so easily! So she doesn’t deserve to live and neither do I because I destroyed all those families lives by killing their sons and daughters, mothers and fathers!”

“You don’t have to do this!” Luke warned the man sternly as he trained his gun on the man’s head. 

Spencer noticed Hartley’s loose grip on your waist and said your name to get your attention. Hartley warned him to shut up, but Spencer ignored him and instead locked his eyes with your terrified ones. A small reminiscent smile made its way onto his lips as he asked softly, “Remember what you told me your favorite movie was when we went on our first date?” You thought for a moment and then nodded almost frantically as Spencer said, “I want you to do the opposite of that for me, okay? Now!” 

And just as he planned, you dropped to your knees, allowing Spencer to get a clean shot on Hartley that took him down in an instant. The second that he went down, Spencer holstered his gun and ran to your side, sitting himself on the ground and against the wall as he pulled you into his chest to comfort you. While he did this, Luke kicked the gun away from Hartley’s hand and checked his pulse before quietly nodding to Spencer. 

“He’s gone, he can’t hurt anyone anymore,” Spencer whispered into your hair before kissing your head and letting you burrow into his embrace as you cried. “Breathe with me sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Spencer mumbled as he tried to calm you down, running a soothing hand up and down your back at the same pace as he wanted you to breathe. 

Minutes passed as Spencer attempted to calm you down and he was mildly successful, enough to get you out of the dining area and onto the back of the ambulance that arrived with the rest of the team. As Spencer hesitantly left your side in order to go locate any anxiety medications you may have in your medicine cabinet, Luke followed him and asked, “Dude, how did you know she was in danger?”

As Spencer pulled out a bottle and read the label, he told Luke, “Act one, scene five, lines 64-65 of Macbeth says ‘Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't.’ That was her way of saying that what looked like an innocent conversation between partners was actually a dangerous situation.” A huff of a laugh left his lips before he added, “She studied Shakespeare for fun in college and would analyze his work with me when we were together. Don’t try and get into a debate with that woman about Shakespeare, you’ll lose every time.”

“Wow… You two must have been a force when you were both at the BAU,” Luke mumbled, seemingly in awe of how easily the pair of you were able to communicate without giving anything away. 

“Hotch thought that we could somehow read each other’s minds sometimes,” Spencer confirmed with a quiet laugh as he pulled the right bottle from the shelf. 

“So what was the movie?” Luke asked curiously as he followed Spencer through the house once more, weaving through the BAU team members and your officers who were investigating the scene. 

“Up,” he replied. “I told her to do the opposite so she went down.” Luke chuckled in response before being whisked away by Emily to recount his version of what happened while Spencer went back to the ambulance to give you your anxiolytic to help you calm down. 

The next morning came after a sleepless night pacing a motel room that the sheriff had booked for you so your house could be processed and cleaned up after the events of Hartley’s takedown. When you drove up to the station there was a decent sized crowd near the door, presumably to get a sneak peek as to what happened at your house the night before. A light knock on your window made you jump and clutch at your heart as you looked over your left shoulder to see Spencer there with a small smile on his face. 

“Want some company to head inside?” he asked as he offered you a hand to help you out of the vehicle. 

“Stay close?” you asked quietly, afraid that perhaps the people in that crowd had already figured out that you were in fact the target of Hartley’s killing spree and were there because they wanted you gone… 

“Of course,” Spencer replied as he hooked your arm in his and the two of you made your way through the crowd and to the front door, ignoring all of the questions being thrown your way. 

When you got inside, you almost breathed a sigh of relief before you were approached by Tara and Emily who told you once more that they would need you in the interrogation room, but this time for an actual questioning. At the request your body stiffened as you realized that you would have to relive the situation again and without missing a beat, Spencer said, “As long as I can be in there with her.”

“Spence, you know that-” Emily started but was interrupted by Tara. 

“Let him,” she told Emily with a shake of her head. “As long as Reid doesn’t say anything to her it won’t matter if he’s in there or not, but if she needs his presence for comfort we at least should allow that.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, your muscles relaxing the slightest bit as you and Spencer began following the pair to the interrogation room. 

Once inside the cold space, you pulled your cardigan close and made sure that Spencer’s hand was held in yours before you nodded to signal that you were okay to begin. “So can you tell me what happened yesterday from your point of view?” Emily asked. 

“I left the station to clear my head after being informed that another couple had been found dead. I grabbed a few groceries and headed to my home where inside I found Hartley Rivers standing in the kitchen of my previously locked house,” you told her quietly, your voice wobbly as you spoke. 

“Did he do or say anything when you got there?” Tara asked. 

“He was…oddly calm at first. Asked what I got from the store and said that I should make the two of us a meal. Said that it was the least I could do for him after all the work he’d been doing lately,” you replied. 

“Did he elaborate on that statement?” Emily asked. 

“Not at first,” you said, “but I got him talking and he confessed to staging all of the murder-suicides in the last few months. He…he said…he said…” you trailed off as your breathing began to pick up and your leg began to bounce anxiously. 

“Take your time,” Tara said. 

“He said it was my fault…” you whispered. “He said that if I just didn’t reject him then all of those people would be alive…” The grip Spencer had on your hand tightened the slightest bit and it brought your turbulent thoughts to that feeling alone and you used it to ground yourself back to reality before clearing your throat and adding, “He told me that I was the loss of his life and that I didn’t deserve to live for what I did and neither did he. But he thought that if he got my attention in a way that wasn’t romantic gestures it would get the point across better…”

“So you're saying that he confessed to orchestrating the killings?” Emily asked. 

You nodded. “Yes. He didn’t tell me where, but…”

“Then what happened?” Tara asked gently when you didn't elaborate more. 

“I…I saw Spencer sneaking around outside so I brought the conversation to a room near an outside door and informed him that I was in danger by referencing a line from Macbeth,” you said, which earned a small smile from Emily. “When Luke and Spencer got in, Hartley grabbed me and held me at gunpoint. From there things get fuzzy because I was so scared. All I remember is Spencer asking me something so I took a knee and heard a gunshot and Hartley let go of me. I thought I got shot until I felt Spencer pull me into his lap and then my anxiety got the better of me…”

“Thank you, you did well,” Tara informed you, standing up and coming around the table to give you a squeeze on the shoulder. 

“We’ll get all of that into the right hands and then we’ll have to be on our way soon,” Emily said hesitantly as she made her way to the door. 

“I’d like to stay behind for another day or two. I’ll use vacation days,” Spencer told her immediately. “I can book myself a flight back to Virginia and do my paperwork on the way.” Emily opened her mouth for a moment and then closed it, simply nodding in response before making her way out of the room with Tara behind her. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Spence…” you whispered. 

“No, but I wanted to. I need to make sure you’re okay at least through the hardest part of this,” he informed you as he helped you stand up on your unsteady legs to leave the room. 

“Thank you,” you told him graciously, turning into him and throwing your arms around his frame in a tight embrace. 

“Of course,” he told you, the smile evident in his voice. 

After a few moments, you took a deep breath and said, “I need to make an announcement, would you mind staying with me for it?”

“I don’t mind,” he replied, following you out into the main office area where the BAU team and your officers were milling around filing away papers. 

You cleared your throat and said just loud enough to be heard over the noise, “I have an announcement I’d like to make.” When all eyes were on you, you took a deep breath and said, “I would like to thank everyone for their work on this case, both my locals and the BAU team. You all worked long and hard hours to close this case and I am very appreciative of that. Unfortunately before we could solve it, twelve people died in this town at the hands of Hartley Rivers under my watch. So with that being said I’m announcing that I will be stepping down from my position as Captain of the police division here. I made a promise to serve and protect the people of this town and after the events of this case I feel like I failed at that because I couldn’t solve it sooner and because I was the reason Hartley felt the need to do what he did. It’s been an honor to serve this town while I did, but it wouldn’t be right to continue on from here. Thank you.”

There was a stunned silence that filled the room and you quickly ducked your head and started toward your office after making eye contact with the sheriff who gave you a nod and a sad smile in response. When you got there, you grabbed a box and began slowly placing your belongings inside when you heard footsteps enter the room. “So you’re really going?” Josh asked quietly, his sadness evident in his voice. 

You nodded, which earned a sigh from Lindsey and her saying, “Man this sucks…”

“I know but… I feel like I failed this town. And once word gets out about what happened, I would be driven out of the position and the town anyway and I’d rather end it on my terms.”

The two agreed and began helping you pack up your belongings while reminiscing on some of the better days in this office. Once you seemed to run out of things to talk about, Josh asked with a smirk evident in his voice, “So…you and agent Reid huh?”

“Doctor Reid,” you informed him sternly with a quiet laugh escaping your lips. “He didn’t earn three PhDs for nothing.”

“So you’re into the smart ones,” Lindsey said teasingly as she landed an elbow into your ribs lightly. 

“I suppose so,” you said as you looked up and saw Spencer himself in the doorway. The four of you made quick work of packing up your office and before you knew it, you were being escorted out to your vehicle with Spencer’s protective arm around you as you made your way through the crowd of people who still thankfully didn’t know the truth behind everything yet. 

When you and Spencer got to your house, he helped you unload the boxes of your office items and then sat beside you on the couch after you put on a quiet instrumental record to keep there from being a deafening silence in the room. You couldn’t help your mind from wandering back to the events of not only yesterday, but of the last five months. As you did, a roaring filled your ears that was interrupted by Spencer’s voice as he asked, “Hey, what’s on your mind?”

“Too much,” you replied quietly. 

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really, but…” You sighed and in defeat relented, saying, “I guess it’s best if I do.”

“It is. And I’m right here with you,” he told you as he tentatively scooched closer on the couch and put his arm around you. Your muscles relaxed as he did this and the flood gates opened once more as you burrowed into Spencer’s side.

“I just feel like such a screw up… Twelve people with lives and families and dreams for the future are all dead because of me…” you whispered, trying to muffle the sob that escaped at the end of your statement. 

Spencer ran his hand up and down your arm for a moment before quietly asking, “If it were anyone else in your position what would you tell them?”

“What?” you asked after a few seconds, pulling away for a moment to look up at Spencer with furrowed eyebrows. 

“As the victim advocate specialist that you are, what would you say to someone else in your position?” Spencer asked and you began to see his point. “Say it was Lindsey in the center of this instead of you? You wouldn’t tell her that those people died because of her would you?”

“No…” you whispered, sagging back into his embrace with a sigh. You were quiet for a moment before replying thoughtfully, “I would tell them that they can’t control other people’s actions and feelings. That they couldn’t have known that something so simple as rejecting someone could cause such disaster. That they shouldn’t have to live in fear of this happening again so they’ll go out and live their life and not seclude themselves. That even though in the heat of the moment if the families of the victims find out the reason behind the crime that it still isn’t their fault no matter what nasty things are said to them. I would remind them that they’re a victim in this too and they deserve treatment and counseling services just like the other victims’ families…”

Spencer leaned down and kissed the crown of your head before mumbling, “Exactly. So what is making you feel like you don’t deserve to hear those things too?”

“Because I was supposed to protect all of those people and I couldn’t do my job. They shouldn’t have died in the first place. Pair that with the fact that Hartley was doing this because of me and…it makes me feel like I don’t deserve to be handled gently after everything that happened,” you told him sadly. 

“I think that just proves that you should be given more grace than anyone in this situation,” Spencer says. 

“I just don’t feel like I’m deserving to be cared for after everything…” 

“Well I guess I’m just going to have to prove your anxiety wrong,” Spencer said and you could hear the smile in his voice as he pulled you impossibly closer in what seemed like an attempt to bring all of your broken pieces back together. 

Later that day after finally getting through all of your emotions about your now totally uprooted life and watching your comfort movie with Spencer, you started to feel a bit lighter. So as you made dinner for the two of you, you sang quietly to the music coming from your record player as Spencer helped where he could with the meal. While you were standing at the stovetop stirring the food, he came up behind you and gently wrapped his arms around your waist and swayed to the music playing. “I missed this…” he admitted quietly, his voice and body relaxed. 

“Me too,” you replied, a small smile on your face and tears prickling the backs of your eyes. 

You were afraid to ask Spencer what happened next after he left back to Virginia and you went…where? You still hadn’t decided what you wanted to do for work after you just resigned and where would that land you in the country? You weren’t sure how well- “Hey,” he said, squeezing you slightly to bring you back to reality. “You’re getting lost again.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you replied, going back to stirring the nearly complete stir fry. “I just have a lot on my mind still is all…”

“Like what?” he asked, stopping his swaying to focus on your conversation. 

“What do I do for work now? There’s no way I’ll get a job in any of the surrounding counties and I’m afraid of even getting into that position again because that is so much responsibility I don’t feel ready to handle again after what happened here…”

“Have you thought about coming back to the FBI?” Spencer asked. “I know that the BAU was a cause for a lot of stress on you, so maybe you could see if there are any victim advocate positions available in other departments? Or maybe go back to your SVU department?”

“I have enough in the bank to take a month or so off from work to sort things out mentally but… I think once I figure myself out again, being an advocate again would be rewarding and now that I have a unique perspective on things…” Maybe it was time to move back to Virginia…

“I think you would do great,” Spencer replied, releasing you from his arms before reaching for the plates you had been warming to place the food on. You still had a faraway look in your eyes, even you could tell, so you weren’t surprised when he asked, “What else is on your mind?”

You didn’t reply as you plated the food and made your way to the table, trying to figure out the best way to discuss the topic at hand. You couldn’t figure out a graceful way to ask, so you let out a heavy sigh as you gestured between yourself and Spencer and asked quietly, “Spence… What is this? What is going on between us right now? The hugs, the kisses, the comforting touches. Is it just because of the case? Is it because you feel bad for me?” Guilt at the last bit began to crawl its way up your spine and you felt your throat closing up slightly as you said, barely above a whisper, “I’m sorry I’m just scared right now…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured you, reaching over and grabbing your hand gently and rubbing comforting circles onto it with his thumb. Clearing his throat, Spencer admitted, “At first it was habitual. It felt like an instinct to comfort you because that’s what I did all those years, but…but then I realized that I didn’t just want to provide you with physical comfort. I wanted to protect you. I wanted to hold you until all of your fears and doubts went away. I just…I want you back.” At those last words, your eyes darted up to meet Spencer’s hopeful ones. A smile fell onto his face as he finished, “Please. I want you back in my life and if that can’t be as your boyfriend right now I understand that, but I just want to be in your life somehow. It took me a while to realize that I never stopped loving you and it took me seeing you to realize that if I want you back I need to fight for it and prove to you that taking me back won’t be a mistake.”

“Taking you back would never be a mistake,” you mumbled, a smile making its way onto your face as you scooted closer to Spencer on the dining table’s bench. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Spencer whispered as his hand ghosted its way up your arm, landing on your cheek to hold you for a moment before asking, “May I kiss you?”

“Of course,” you replied with a slight nod before your lips were enveloped into the most tender kiss Spencer had ever given you. A feeling of warmth ran up your spine as you relaxed into the kiss, your hands wandering up to hook around the back of Spencer’s neck to pull him closer. 

All too soon, the kiss was over and Spencer pulled away to rest his forehead on yours before telling you, “I love you. And I never want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” you promised before leaning back in for another kiss, the stir fry going forgotten on the table as you lost yourself in Spencer’s love and affection. 

thank you for getting this far, I appreciate you for reading! Don't forget to like and comment! <3

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism x Reader: Boyfriend Moments

G/N. Fluffy scenes. Yes, this bitch delulu. Sammy, Vin, Goo, Jake, Ryuhei, Gun. Masterlists

Samuel Seo

"Try this," you offer to Samuel your tea.

That is delicious, by the way. And the way he pulls a face at the milky concoction mildly offends you.

You continue to wave the cup in your boyfriend's face, straw close to being shoved up his nose, drink splashing perilously against the lid.

He gives in. Because your dedication for annoying shit like this knows no bounds.

Steadying your hand and leaning forward, he takes a gulp from your drink. It's actually not bad. Better than he thought but-

"Too sweet," Samuel says, straightening and pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"Suit yourself," you shrug, appeased that at least Sammy has given it a go and you take a sip yourself. Then, with a grin- "It's like we just kissed."

He arches an eyebrow at you pointing at the straw, can't help rolling his eyes even as he chuckles at your silliness.

"Here,"  Samuel leans down again and kisses you. Tasting the tea on your lips except this time it is much much nicer. Delicious even. "Now we've actually kissed."

.

.

Vin Jin

Vin is undeniably cringe, according to Mary. And also a simp, according to-

Everyone, actually.

But he reasons that everyone must be jealous because if they found someone like you, they would also be all over them too.

Much like Vin is.

He's a lot more PG-13 than you expected though, less handsy. Even with his reputation, cool and cocky and honestly a bit of an asshole, Vin loves simply holding your hand, your fingers intertwined with his. Walking down the street and everyone knowing you're together.

Maybe it's a bit childish to like this one simple gesture so much. But he doesn't care. Sometimes he likes to just look at your hand in his, comparing sizes, touching your palm against his, and feeling the softness of your skin.

It doesn't stop there though.

He gives you loud obnoxious smooches on the cheek, rests his chin on your head, forces you to share a seat, squished together with your legs draping over his.

Vin wants you close by all the time. And he used to be annoyed when Mary would call him embarrassing, tell him to get a room. 

Has tried to keep a little distance at first yet continues to be drawn to you like a magnet. In the end, he has stopped caring. Besides, he thinks having you by his side automatically makes him a lot cooler.

.

.

Goo Kim

Goo knows what comes out of his mouth is gold, it’s just a shame that other people don't.

Gun tells him to shut up frequently, Crystal's eyes glaze over as she hums politely, and he knows Kouji tunes him out.

He takes it as a challenge sometimes, to see how long he can keep talking before he makes them awkward and uncomfortable, wasting their time, hoping to drive them insane.

It hasn't happened yet, but he's proud to say he's been close.

"And then what happened?" you ask Goo, leaning forward eagerly to hear the end of his story.

His brows knit together, puzzled. "Huh?"

"You can't stop there. What happened next?!"

Goo blinks. This (or 10 minutes ago) was usually when everyone told him to shut up. "You actually wanna hear the rest of it?"

You give a look to say 'duh' and nod.

Huh. Goo feels himself tearing up, dramatically thumps his hand against his heart and tells you you're the best.

"I know. Now finish the story."

.

.

Jake Kim

Jerry can recite all your key facts. Where you were born, your date of birth, blood type, horoscope.

Jason sometimes corrects him on the MBTI though.

Brad knows your favourite foods and favourite drinks, Lineman your favourite clothes and brands.

Lua knows that you prefer colder weather, although there's nothing like a sunny day to brighten up your mood. Or hiding somewhere warm and cosy when the rain pitter patters outside.

Sinu can recite your's and Jake's anniversary off by heart. The gifts that you have bought him, and what he has bought for you. He also knows what Jake was considering buying for you but decided not to in the end, for one reason or another.

Fact of the matter is, Jake slips you into all his conversations with everyone. It's a bit of a talent, to be honest. Even if the conversation isn't remotely related to you, Jake still finds something to mention that involves you.

It was a headache, at first. Jake derailed discussions and Big Deal meetings with anecdotes and tidbits when you first got together. Over time it became barely noticeable, only off hand comments or throw away remarks here and there.

This worked out well for the crew, because no one had the heart to tell Jake to shut up. How could they when his face lights up, eyes soft and crinkling. and he smiles so sweetly talking about you.

.

.

Ryuhei Kuroda

"Hey," you murmur, kissing Ryuhei on the cheek as his eyes flutter open.

He's looking at you bleary eyed, smile spreading as he comes to. You both sport matching pillowcase wrinkles on your face, and Ryuhei's cowlick is even more outrageous than usual.

"That was good," he says, stretching his hands overhead, elongating his limbs and arching his foot.

"The best nap," you agree.

Intimacy used to mean sex to Ryuhei. All physical.

Now, well it still means that because it is Ryuhei after all. But it also means deep conversations into the night with you. Sharing opinions and thoughts and vulnerability. Having another half (a better half, if you asked him) to be with, share experiences with.

And one of his favourite experiences that he recently discovered, is napping with you.

Ryuhei had expected his favourite experiences to be all manners of lewd and explicit things. But nothing can beat the soft domesticity of him curled around your back, both your breaths starting to deepen as you drift to sleep in his arms and he follows closely behind.

.

.

Gun Park

You wouldn't say Gun is a feeder, but the fact that he cooks and feeds you so well came as a surprise.

"Nutrition is important," he would tell you, prepping in a frilly apron that you bought for him as a joke but wore anyway because why wouldn't he? It's from you.

You also don't understand what role nutrition plays when he prepares the food in cutest ways. Carrots in the shape of flowers, octopus cut sausages, onigiri with faces made from nori.

Tonight, you peer down at your katsu curry, with a bear shaped out of rice lounging in it.

You can't help the burst of laughter, thinking of your boyfriend - the fearful Gun Park, the Shiro Oni, in the kitchen cooking this for you.

"What?" Gun asks, seated across the table, a spoonful halfway to his mouth.

"It's too cute," You grin at the black eyed menace, the guy that was supposed to be all about fighting but has a terribly soft spot for you.

You glance down at the bear again, in an adorably relaxed position with steam rising around it reminiscent of an onsen. It seems almost a shame to eat it. "I can't believe you made this."

Gun gives you a matter of fact answer, "You like it more when it's cute." 

Oh.

The fact he goes to all this effort, just because you like it more, makes him the cutest of all.

[filthyguts]

sketchbook doodles as it’s 4 am so I thought maybe . I’d share my specific kira headcanons from my twit thread. Strap in its unda the cut and it’s a lot because I’m normal about him whatever

- HATES dogs due to an incident from when he was a kid, slight phobia

- I’m always 50/50 on this but I like the headcanon of kira potentially having a type of albinism, both his parents carried the gene

-he’s superstitious, on account of his mother being VERY superstitious, which probably didn’t help with any compulsions he was dealing with internally as a kid and into adulthood

-Liked to burn ants and bigger bugs with a magnifying glass as a kid

-surprisingly low pain tolerance

-Has never kissed another person (until he kissed shinobu on the cheek during BTD)

this extends to other things do with this information what you will *large sign in flashing lights that says VIRGINNNNNN*

-he does not know how to kiss. because he hasn't done it to an actual living breathing person, if he were too in earnest it's intense he's all teeth and tongue it would be literally terrible, but he does give sweet knuckle kisses

he can give a polite cheek kiss but if he had to do one of the lips he’d be cooked like it would be over for him he might bite your tongue off on accident(or..?) like ur better off sticking two fingers in his mouth and hoping for the best instead of getting your lip ripped off

-absolutely LOVES the smell of a fresh coat of nail polish, doesn't care that it makes him light headed

-super veiny hands and wrists one paper cut and it's over for him

-killer queen feels really cold to touch, but its arms and hands are hot

-average at playing the violin, does dabble from time to time in the quiet of his home but it's not very often

-yes we know he sucks fingers but he also likes to likely gnaw because he likes the texture on his teeth (not in a cannibal way though he thinks the idea of actually eating flesh is disgusting and irresponsable)

-just really loves neutrals and easter colors, designer suits all the way obvi

-when he first gained killer queen (I hc he was about 19) it always looked like this pic below with the exposed skull, only when he started to better mask his homicidal tendencies and urges did KQ gain its "mask"" and how we see it now

-despite his obvious feline affiliations he doesn't want a pet cat, the hair getting everywhere would drive him crazy (plus he's got killer queen

-kira didn't name killer queen himself, the only time it ever spoke to him was once. when he first manifested KQ after the arrow, Killed Queen told Kira it's name quietly while standing behind him, this scared the shit out of him, which sounds badass and spooky but was also probably subconsciously because Kira had a Queen CD he purchased a year prior that he liked WELL UR JUST SEVENTEEN AND ALL YOU WANNA DO IS DISAPPEAR

-occasionally drinks (that's canon) but meaning he likes to get winedrunk with his girlfriends on special occasions, or socially drinks when forced to go out for company outings, once came home decently hammered and almost phoned a travel agency to get a one way plane ticket to France to see the Mona Lisa ,

did not follow through with this when he woke up the next morning. The idea of seeing her at the Louvre is almost too much for him, feels like touching an exposed nerve.

-is 100% having sloppy makeout sessions with his severed hand girlfriend with candles, dim lighting, and mood records + thinks it's the peak of romance and gets giddy about it like someone with their first crush. Because he's insane

-can feel a phantom sense for Sheer Heart Attack, no pain due to its durability, but can feel the heat tracking in his hand and it readying to explode once it’s found its target. The tracking feels like a tingling sensation to him akin to a compass, like a pulling. and the explosion feels like a pleasant blossom of warmth

-loves the subtle flavor of different lotions (not freshly applied) that linger on the skin, salty fruity fragrant and slightly chemically is his favorite. 🤢

- tries to be incredibly Normal when going for routine dental checkups and cleanings for obvious reasons. When he was in his early 20s and didn’t quite have his urges and homicidal tendencies in check- one of his early victims was a dental hygienist

-his dad(yoshihiro) was into cheesy action movies and would often take kira when he was a kid to the theater, kira didn’t really care for it overall, the explosions were always cool though.

He doesn’t watch movies often but he doesn’t mind drama and romance.

-gets cold pretty easily

-scary good at walking quietly, like a cat stalking prey, when he started working at kameyu- he went to hand some documents to a coworker, startling them pretty bad bc they didn’t hear him come up- he IMMEDIATELY stopped doing that unconsciously after that incident, he makes sure his footsteps are “normal” are soft, not aggressive, but can hear heard enough.

- in the moment he likes the feeling of blood drying on his skin, but once the adrenaline wears off he’ll wrinkle his nose and be like >:// then hop in the bath to clean up(it’s usually not his bath)

-went to the same school Reimi Sugimoto attended in Morioh, never once did he hold a solid conversation with her, she only spoke to him briefly once about missed homework. But that’s not to say he didn’t know who she was. Eerie :(

- His SECOND favorite early spring, likes taking strolls along to coast with his girlfriends, enjoys the breeze.

But his FIRST favorite season is summer, when all the tourists come to Morioh. It’s easy for people traveling to simply disappear 😨

-aside from nail biting, had a compulsive skin picking habit as a child but this was quickly squashed by his mother who’d give him a swat on the wrist each time he was caught

-subconsciously wishes his girlfriends could grab him back- (this isn’t to say he wants to rest of the person though 🤢) a squeeze on the waist or shoulder would probably do him good but it’s not like he consciously yearns for this- it would shatter his otherwise perfect lived fantasy and setup of control 😒

-his favorite finger is tied between either the pointer or the ring finger. He likes being able to bend the fingers and do what he wants, relishes in the subtle crack of the joints 🤢

anddddd that’s all for now. hell isn’t hot enough for him

[risuola]

VII — WHAT IF...? // F. READER x TOBIRAMA SENJU

Tobirama never wanted children and not one of you ever brought the topic up, but now, as you grow more and more intimate and comfortable with each other you wonder, what if...?

contents: smut, reader discretion is advised — 2,1k words

a/n: i need to tell you guys that i'm so incredibely grateful for the positive feedback i got from you readers! i know that Tobirama isn't the most popular character in Naruto and i chose him to make this series about (because I love him, that's why) and it makes me so happy that you enjoy his little persona too! ❥ also, i'm very sorry for posting so rarely for this series, i was stuck in where to take the story now.

POLITICALLY LOVELESS || SERIES MASTERLIST

“God, I’m so damn busy.”

Tobirama’s low, deep voice rumbled against your skin as he kept latching his lips along the edges of you. You let your nails gently run across the pale flesh of his sides, your hands long gone underneath the dark ink-blue fabric of his blouse, yearning for the warmth of a man that has your heart in a tight grip for way longer than you’d ever suspect. The marks he was leaving at his wake matched the color to the ones you were painting on his back and you couldn’t help but grin with satisfaction when he hissed near your ear. The stinging sensation of your scratches fueled his fire even more and only seconds passed before your pants were pushed down and underwear got ripped into pieces. The heat of your core now exposed to his whims, starved tremendously for any touch of his, and you whimper – the sound nearly pathetic, as he moved his fingers along your dripping slit, spreading the slick and making their way around the pulsating bud.

“My love,” you breathed again, leaning your head against his peck, inhaling the subtle, fresh scent that always stuck to his body. A mixture of tangerine and pepper, a hint of sandal wood hovering above the soft undertone of morning dew and rain. “My god, I missed you.” You spoke, but what was leaving your mouth was incoherent, it was airy and broken; stuttered between the expert circles Tobirama was massaging right into your nervous system.

“I missed you too,” he replied, quiet against the crown of your head, taking in your aura and impatiently moving his fingers a little bit further, making them slip right into you. One by one, he was focused on stretching you out, the tight ring of muscles clenching around his digits as he moved them back and forth.

“Tobi, please–“ you whined, gripping onto his sides with enough force to ground yourself.

“You think you are ready for me?”

“I do, please,” there was no hint of uncertainty when you begged for him to fuck you. Right there, on his desk, in his office in the hokage tower. There was no worry in you, no thought about his brother few doors further down the hall, no nothing that could convince you that it wasn’t the best idea and it seemed your husband has just as little concerns because it didn’t take him long to be inside you.

A low, gravelly groan escaped his throat, vibrating against your lips that glued to his throat marked their way across the sensitive skin over his Adam’s apple. It’s been too long since he felt you that close, it’s been too long since he was able to just lose himself in you, be vulnerable in the loving embrace of your body, be the person he never got to be publicly and instead of thinking and analyzing, just letting himself feel. And then, he was sure, that if ever he wished to feel anything, it was you he wanted to experience. It was you since the day he saw you for the first time, led by a servant in your family palace, blinded and obedient but bearing a beauty that tainted his thoughts perpetually.

Tobirama will always remember the feeling of your body – the soft curve of your shoulder he kept his hand on to lead you out of your village, the gentle brush of his fingers against your cheekbones when he took the blindfold off your face, revealing the eyes in which he got lost with no return. You were nothing more than a girl he just met back then, a wife-to-be but someone unknown and yet, his heart knew on the spot that things will change. And they did, he knew it’ll happen, but he wouldn’t dare to wish his life to turn out so dramatically different to what he predicted. Love was a feeling as foreign as fear to his heart. A heart he thought was frozen and nothing more than a dot in the constellation of organs that kept him alive. The beat in his chest has never had any more meaning than to keep his body going and the very same beat now goes crazy, rumbling against his ribs whenever he sees you. Tobirama knew his life will change, the very moment his head was filled with terror and uneasiness when Hashirama passed him the decision regarding the arrangement. He knew about all the shifts in his day to day life he will simply have to commit to and yet, the most vibrant of his dreams, the most brave and perverse could have never created what he had now. You.

You, on the desk he’s used to work at. You, with your plush thighs wrapped around his waist, your hands gripping onto him for just a fraction of support, panting out moans, so light and breathy, against his lips, quietly escaping only for his ears to hear. With your core clenching, aching to accommodate him whole and yet, greedy enough to take everything, to want more. Senju would never imagine he will be blessed enough to hear his name spoken with so much love he could actually feel it seeping through the sound of it.

You kept squeezing him and he kept losing his mind over every twitch your walls did around him. You were a work of art, he thought as his eyes followed the lines of your body. An arch of your back now prominent, and the only thing that kept you from falling flat onto the desk was a pair of his hands, strongly holding your waist to himself. Your eyes were absent, your mind long gone into the realm of pleasure and yet, your fingers stayed on his biceps, squeezing the flesh and wandering, hungry to have more of him.

“Tobi–“ you breathed out, the name just barely sliding on top of the air you were panting out and you pulled yourself closer to him. Your palms now found their way to his back, stretching the fabric of his blouse to feel the skin underneath it and you leaned into him, as he leaned into you. Your foreheads touched, noses squeezed together as the final moves of his hips brought both of you over the edge. Your breaths mingled together, a soft, broken sounds made for a cacophony of love you just shared and you shut your eyes to just feel him fully.

“Welcome back home,” your husband whispered finally, kissing your lips shortly after your smile acknowledged his words. The gesture was soft, languid and though you knew it was carrying much more than just concluding the sex. There was love that it carried, emotions unraveling with each movement of his mouth against yours and you felt the warmth spreading all over your body.

“I missed you too,” you replied, softly and quietly, slowly breaking the kiss off but not shying away from marking the line of his jawline with few more wet spots. “Let’s get cleaned, shall we?”

* * *

Watching Tobirama fight was one of your favorite things to do ever since you got to marry him. It amazed you every time you had a chance to witness his training and your husband never failed to take your breath away with how skilled and precise his movements are, how much control he has over nature releases and how well he wields the sword. Of course, the moment he offered you to join him while he trained with Kagami, you said yes without a second thought.

The boy from the clan of fire has become a part of your family in a way. Ever since you gave him a hand, helped him go through the traumatic events that happened with his biological parents, you kept an eye on him. With regular visits at his new home, you got to know his new parents – lovely people – and you really attached yourself to the little kid. He was growing so fast, warming your heart and soul as you watched the smile on his face and pinched his cheeks every time you had a chance, because soon he’ll be too big for you to do so any longer (you’ll try anyway). Kagami was a constant guest at your house, spreading his warm aura across the place where you and your husband live and making you smile every time you saw him, because the few days you got to take a close care of him were the sweetest memories you held onto. You’ll never forget the way he clung onto you, with trust and a kind of love that a child gives an adult that it feels safe with.

Tobirama grew to love the boy rather quickly – though he was reluctant to admit how fast it happened, but you knew he felt the intense need of care in just few days of little Uchiha in his life. Now it wasn’t a secret anymore – your husband openly treated the kid as if it was his own and even though he strongly believed that kids shouldn’t be exposed to war and violence, he was very supportive when it came to trainings. Even on the busiest days of his schedule, he always found a moment or two to spare for the cheerful child that came to visit the hokage tower every time he was around.

“Tired already?” Senju asked, watching the brunette gathering up from the green grass on one of the meadows that were more of a training field than a piece of greenery. An open space so big in comparison to the almost eight-year-old tiny human and yet he bravely raised up to his little feet, clenching his fingers around the handle of his kunai.

 “No!” He called out, panted and a small smile tugged on your husband’s lips as he got into his stance yet again. It was a spectacle of trust and power and you admired your man for being able to perfectly calculate how much strength he can put into every move of his body to make the little one hustle just enough.

You, as you sat on the side, resting on the soft blanket and surrounded by homemade food you prepared to feed both boys after they’re done and some bandages and first aid supplies that you knew will be needed to tend scrapes and cuts that Kagami will most likely be covered in after the session. All those little, harmless wounds you’ll later kiss and wrap around, tickling the child and basking in the sweet sound of his giggles muffled by the pieces of rice and meat you’ll give him.

You smiled, then sighed, feeling a sentiment washing over you. A slight tension made your muscles twitch and soon you found yourself pressing a hand onto your belly. You wished to have children, not always – but now, as you found love in the village that confidently you call your cherished home, more and more often you catch yourself thinking.

Tobirama didn’t want any offspring, at least that’s what he told you few days after the wedding – as he was explaining to you the mechanisms of the arrangement and briefing you through his visions of the future between you and him, he mentioned that his brother will secure the bloodline, therefore he has no wish to have kids himself. It’s something you agreed on, then slightly intimidated by his cold and calm persona, but three years had passed since you and him got bonded by knot of matrimony and as you think of it, none of his predictions came to life.

Sometimes you chuckled mentally, knowing how far off is what you have now to what he told you he think will happen. It was meant to be loveless, it was meant to be dry and distant. He told you that he’s sorry for the future you were given to, that he’s not going to love you just like you deserve but then, he did just that. He swore he’s cold, that his heart isn’t capable of sharing feelings as romantic as love but Tobirama loves, and he loves hot. Every kiss and stolen touch with him burns right into your soul, warms you from the inside, makes you happy and cherished, and you knew, deep inside of your heart, that his mind changed long time ago. You knew, deep down, that he’s content with what you built together, that he’s happier than he ever would be if your marriage turned out as he thought it will.

And so, you wondered if his will to have children changed as well? You never talked about it with him, never asked and he didn’t as well. Lost in the constant rush of his busy schedule, from meeting to meeting and from fight to fight, Tobirama stayed quiet about the issue and you, now leading the anbu, never had guts to bring it up either. But now, as you sat there, basking in the warm rays of the summer sun, you wondered what if…?

taglist: @garouaddict @bluebreadenthusiast @nelivv @drthymby @humongousdreamlandbear @darlingxoxo15 @gaozorous-rex-blog

[juniefruit]

☆ My Dear ☆

☆ Tags: Han Jisung x fem reader, friends to lovers

☆ Summary: In which you’re both head over heels for eachother. Who wouldv’e known that such a simple word has Jisung wrapped around your finger…

☆ Warnings: Eventual smut, petnames, this shit nasty, MDNI!!!!!

☆ Word Count: 3.6k

It’s just a simple habit you picked up; how and where exactly… you can’t pinpoint. Calling people ‘dear’ as a mannerism, even for mundane things here and there. It’s almost subconsious: “thank you, dear.” or “would you pass me that cup, dear?” Just a passive way to be polite, right? Jisung knows you can’t help it. For a few years now, Jisung has been your ride or die. He’s always just a text or phone call away. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually a genie with how fast he always shows up at your side. You laugh together, you vent and rant together, nothing could sever your bond. Some might think you're too close to eachother to be just friends. You wouldn’t have it any other way, though. Jisung was everything you needed in a best friend. Goofy yet responsible; respectful yet lighthearted. Honestly, it’s hard not to imagine a life with him that’s past the boundaries of friendship. It doesn’t help that he’s the most attractive man you’ve had the pleasure of getting to know in your life. Because of your closeness, it’s also hard for Jisung. He would love nothing more than to hug you just because, cuddle up on the couch, and press passionate kisses to your pretty lips. And yet, the feelings go unspoken for fear of losing eachother. 

There is one thing that Jisung wouldn’t tell anyone, not even if he was hooked up to a lie detector. Every time you call him dear, his mind spins. His heart races and he needs to manually control his breathing. Such a simple pet name, and yet his mind wanders. Would you call him that, when your thighs are splayed over his, and your fingers thread through his hair? When your breaths are laboured, and you can barely think straight? He would obey your every command. He would beg and plead under you, hands gripping the flesh of your hips in desperation. He would do anything to hear you call him that one more time. And another. And another, until you’re both climaxing with arms wrapped around eachother and necks covered in marks. That’s what he thinks about when he’s alone in his room, zoned out at his desk. Or in his bed. Or on the way to your apartment, which just so happens to be the reality. Great timing. 

With spring just around the corner, you could practically feel that gloomy winter feeling melting like snow out of your body. The sun rays of the late afternoon dance through the windows of your living room and land on the hardwood floor. The city can be heard disatntly below. You sit comfortably on the couch, one leg tucked under the other, desperately trying to regain focus on your book. Your mind betrays you, once again pining over Jisung. Oh, how it would feel to finally call him yours. To show him every part of you. To lose yourself in complete adoration for him. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him, because you know he would do the same for you. Like that one time he was having trouble recording a verse just right. He stormed into your apartment, silently seething. No questions asked, you sat him down on the couch before preparing tea. When you returned, you stretched out your arms to invite him in. And he did just that. He couldn’t stay annoyed for long when he had the most beautiful girl comforting him. With a long sigh, he ranted. And you listened. You gave him your full attention. For that, he is forever grateful. A few days later, your boss decided to be extra stingy. You knew the deadline was quickly approaching, you knew there was still a lot to do. And yet he still felt the need to shove it in your face. The entire trip to Jisung’s apartment, stressed tears were bordering on your waterline. The knocks on the door with surprising force were Jisung’s first suspicion that something was up. When he opened it, his heart shattered. Who could have possibly done this to his pretty girl? He ushered you in with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. Opting for the floor, you sat, pulling your knees in tight. 

“Please tell me, pretty girl, what happened?” He sat on his knees in front of you, leaning in. Silence from your end. The palm of his hand rubbed against the curve of your shoulder underneath your work clothes.

“Talk to me, Dear. So I can make it better. Why don’t you take a deep breath, hm?” Maybe your mannerisms were rubbing off on him. That didn’t mean they affected him any less. Still curled up with your head down, you talked. Like he asked. Because you couldn’t deny him for long. The rest is history. 

The steady knocks at your door pull you out of your thoughts as you slam the book shut and place it on the coffee table. Your feet pad across the floor to unlock the door. You know it’s Jisung. He had texted you earlier, saying he’s on his way. For no specific reason other than he knew you were both at home anyway, enjoying the day off. When you open the door, You’re dazed every time. You can never get used to the sight that beholds you. Jisung, in a hoodie and jean jacket, black jeans hugging his toned thighs. His dark hair was in its natural curly state, a few stray strands falling forward above his eyes. You would want nothing more than to reach out a hand and sweep it to the side. That would make things weird, certainly. His small silver hoop earrings dangle as he looks up.

“Hey,” He says, with a content sigh and a subtle grin. 

“Hi, Sungie! Come in-” You say, side stepping to give him room to enter. He’s unlacing his shoes while you walk to the kitchen. 

“Want something to drink? I can make some tea?”

“Whatever you want, y/n. You make it, I'll drink it.” He says as he’s hanging up his jacket. You chuckle.

“Alright, Dear.”

The water in the kettle makes a bubbling sound off to the side. You’re occupied with preparing the tea bags when you sense Jisung’s presence behind you. It takes everything in you not to yelp in surprise when you feel a hand slide against your waist. Jisung reaches past you and grabs a glass from the cabinet. His presence is warm and comforting. If you leaned back just a bit, you’d be pressed right up against him. You freeze, but he continues his gentle gestures. The hand that isn’t still settled against the lower part of your waist sets the glass down. He grazes his hand over yours, takes the tea bag between his lithe fingers, and places it in the cup. When he speaks, it’s sensually close to your ear. 

“You’re always so good to me… you make me tea, you comfort me when I’ve had a bad day, you even got me an entire cheesecake for my birthday. How could I ever repay you?” His voice is low and soothing. 

“Being my best friend is more than enough, Dear.” You say with a considerate tone. You turn your head to face him, which was a grave mistake on your part. Now you’re nose to nose, wide-eyed and staring into his round, kind eyes. It takes a few seconds for him to muster up the courage before speaking.

“What if I didn’t want to be best friends anymore?” His voice was now serious. 

“Uh, what?” This can’t be. Did you do something wrong? Before your brain short circuits, Jisung continues. 

“I- Um, shit. I meant, what if you were my girlfriend instead?” That sounded better in his head, clearly. “I just- I think about you like, every day. When I’m at the studio with the guys. Or when I’m literally doing nothing. I don’t know what to do with myself-” You cut him off, not by saying anything, but by leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. Enough with the rambling. 

“Jisung, dear, what if I didn’t want to be your best friend anymore either?” And with that, He grins so wide his eyes crinkle. He takes his arm off the counter to grab the other side of your waist, turning you completely towards him; eyes still locked. 

“Then you better tell me if you don’t want this, too.” He’s leaning in and pressing his lips to yours before you can think of something to even say. Now realizing how useless your hands feel, you bring them up to rest on his shoulders. With newfound courage, you kiss back. You can practically feel the energy radiating from where he subtly moves his plush lips against yours. Not totally sure what to do, you mimic his own movement, which he seems contempt with because he releases a low groan and gently exhales through his nose. The scent of his cherry chapstick invades your nose. It’s certainly doing its job; his lips are softer than the finest silk. Truly, you’re not thinking of anything other than him, and where he’s touching you.  

The alarm of the kettle snaps you back into the space of your apartment. You hum into his mouth when he doesn’t immediately let go. Jisung lets out a low whine, and tightens his arms around you. The feeling is dangerous. Reluctantly, you pull away from his lips with a loud smack.

“Sungie Dear, the water-” 

“I finally get to kiss you, and you’re giving the kettle priority over me?” He says, teasingly. He pouts, puffing his cheeks out. 

“Let me at least turn it off-” You wiggle and squirm in his hold. When he feels you create that friction, he finally realizes that he should have tried to keep his composure a little more. Especially since you’ve been calling him by that saccharine nickname ever since he stepped through the door. Luckily, the material of his jeans was thick enough that he felt confident you didn’t notice anything. As if his arms weighed a hundred pounds each, he pulled them away; not without dragging them across your hips first. He huffs out a ‘fine’ before following you to the other side of the kitchen. Like an obedient puppy, he tracks behind as you carry the kettle to the two cups on the counter. You pour them both. Not even a second goes by after you set the kettle down and Jisung has his arms wrapped around your middle and head resting on your shoulder from behind. You chuckle.

“There. Happy now?” You inquire.

“Very.” One of his arms travels up your upper body. He takes his time, applying pressure to every dip and curve of your side. When he reaches your neck, he brushes your hair behind your ear and to the back. Goosebumps make their way up your arms. Not because it’s cold. On the contrary, you’re burning up. Surely your cheeks are bright red and your eyes can’t focus on anything in front of you. When Jisung leans his head in to whisper in your ear, he also slightly pushes his middle into yours, craving more physical touch. 

“Tell me, pretty girl, is this okay? I’ve been thinking about you for so long, I would hate to rush things.” 

“It’s okay. I promise.” You can barely get the words out when you feel his body against yours, even with clothes. If you’re feeling this stimulated now, How will you even be able to breathe when you go farther than this? The verdict is, you’ll find out when you get there. 

“What, am I making you nervous?” He teases. You can feel his breath on your neck when he talks.

“I mean- yeah, but not in- not in a bad way. I- please, just do something.” You whine softly at the end. 

“Say the magic word, pretty girl.” His lips are so close tto the nape of your neck now that you can feel his lips moving as he speaks. 

“Please, Dear.” Never in your life had you felt him so eager like this. His plush lips molded against the nape of your neck under your ear. His arms shifted and tightened against your midriff when he heard you breath out a heavy sigh. His tongue darted out to run over his lips and, in the process, ran over the soft skin of your neck. At that, you let out the tiniest whine. Jisung heard it and ran with it. Licking and sucking against your neck with fervor as your hands glided over his own. With one last languid suck into the sensitive new mark, he flipped you around and gently pushed you further into the counter. You looked utterly divine; out of breath and waiting for the next move. Jisung passionately gave you one last kiss. His lips were wet from his earlier escapade, and his tongue darted out for a kitten lick against your own lips. He swears he’s never felt or tasted anything better. Your head is spinning when you gently part your lips to deepen the kiss. Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you feel his core slowly move against your own. It was experimental. You do the same motion back. Jisung gasps against your mouth. 

“Um, shit, I- I’m sorry, I definitely took this too far. Was that okay, baby?” He’s trying to speak and catch his breath at the same time. You stare into his worried eyes.

“More than okay. Now, it seems like I’m the one waiting.” You exclaim with a push of your hips against his. His face scrunches from the stimulation. 

“Come to the couch with me.” He pulls you off of the kitchen counter and guides you through the living room with arms still wrapped around you. You take your own hands and press the pads of your fingers into the back of his neck where his hair curls. You gently tug, and he lets out a quiet, breathy moan. You fall back onto the couch. Jisung leans over you, silver earrings twinkling in the golden rays from the last sunlight of the day. Oh yeah, it’s golden hour. As Jisung places his arms on either side of your shoulders, the ethereal orange light makes him look like a fallen angel. He can say the same for you. Your hair is a bit tussled, and you’re looking up at him with doe eyes that he’s never even had the power to imagine. When he comes closer, he sensually slots his hips against yours and grinds. One of his legs rests on the couch for stability as you lay under him. Your fingers are still tangled in his hair when he runs his palms down your arms and to your middle. His hands slide under your sweatshirt to caress the soft skin there. You let out a wanton moan at the contact. His hips do not relent. Your hands slide down from his hair, scratching along his clothed back, and hooking into the belt loops of his jeans. He gasps and whines. 

“It’s a bit hot in here, don’t you think?” He asks teasingly from his position above you. 

“Why dont you take this off then, my Dear?” You pull on the hem of his hoodie.

“Yeah, of course Baby. Anything.” His words are breathy and he can barely think straight. The way the word shapes your lips and leaves your mouth in the softest, most sensual tone has his braincells running laps. He mimics your movements and runs his own hands down to the belt of your jeans before raising them and throwing his hoodie over his head and somewhere off to the side. His wide shoulders accent the planes of his chest, perfectly toned. His eyes look down at your chest. 

“Can I take this off, Baby?” He asks, gathering the material of your sweatshirt in one hand. His hips are still connected to yours but halt their movements. You can feel him through his jeans, that’s how high strung he is. You nod your head with a hum as he grapples with the material. Your fingers fiddle with the button on his jeans. Your eyes are heavy with desire. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, my Dear?” 

He moans and his eyes roll back.  “Yes… hah…” 

You unbutton his jeans to feel his member through his boxers. Jisung’s tongue is licking into yours until he begins to leave open mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck, and laving over your collar bone. 

“So gorgeous Baby…mmmmmh” He groans into your skin. You crane your neck to give him space, while leaving kisses on his own. The silver earring dangles against your nose. You shimmy your own pants off, finally becoming too unbearable. You both moan at the new level of closeness and the pressure of your nether regions against one another. Jisung’s moans grow higher in pitch and frequency the longer your hand rubs over him. 

“Ah, ah Baby, stop before I cum like this…” his eyebrows knit together. You let out a hum.

“Let’s take these off then, my Dear.” You shimmy your hands under his boxers in order to pull them down with his jeans at the same time. Once they’re down at his ankles, he pulls them off the rest of the way. His swollen cock stands and pearls of glistening precum gather at the tip. He jolts when you swipe a finger over the head to gather it, before impatiently tugging your jeans and underwear down in one go. They plop down onto the floor. Your hearts beat rapidly in tandem with anticipation. Jisung tears his eyes away from your chest to look you in the eyes. 

“You’re sure this is okay, yeah?” He exhales.  

“Yeah. Now come here.” He keens at the command. Your knees raise up to lock in around his waist, his sensitive cock between you two. His hands grip the sides of your waist for stability, and his thumbs rub soothing motions into your heated skin. He adjusts his hips so his tip drags over your clit before finding your entrance between your folds. He would have prepped you with his nimble fingers had it not been for your joined impatience. So, to make up for it, his tongue drags down and over your right nipple, licking stripes up and down. Your back arches at the stimulation. Jisung slowly pushes his cock in, until his head pushes past the throbbing ring of muscle only to be met with your velvet walls enveloping every inch. His thighs quiver, and his hands make grabby motions against your waist. 

“Ah, hahh, so good Baby, all nice and so wet…” You mewl and whine. Your brain is going into overdrive with the way jisung’s chest moves as he takes deep breaths in. The way his dark hair falls across his face and just barely covering his eyes. When he gives an experimental grind with his length inside, you both let out breathy groans. Your arms circlearound to grasp at his shoulder blades, and your nails subtly scratch. He shudders and moves his hips deeper. Every thrust is accentuated with a huff hrom his plump, kiss-swollen lips. Your scratches on his back make him pick up the speed of his thrusts, until he gets an idea. He leans even closer and slides his arms around your back.

“I have an idea… hmmmh, flip over for me, Baby.” You both rotate until you’re now sitting on top of him. Your thighs are pressed on top of his and honestly, the sight is heavenly. Jisung won’t admit how long he’s wanted to see you like this. He knows he won’t last long like this, not when he’s already so stimulated. Inbetween bounces, you’re mumbling praises that make Jisung ascend. Little whispers of “so good, my Dear” and “right- right there, Dear…” It gets harder and harder for him to control the speed of his thrusts when he’s so close now that he can taste it. Every time he pushes back in, your walls tighten around him. There’s a little puddle of your combined slick at the base of his cock aiding in the rush to cum. Every time you sink down all the way to his base, your clit hits against his lower tummy that is also thrusting up to meet you halfway. His hands are gripping at your upper thigh with a force that might leave fingertip-shaped bruises tomorrow, but right now, nothing feels better. One of his hands drags down to press his pointer and middle finger into your clit to rub tight circles. Your release builds and builds in waves until you’re crashing down with him, hunching over and biting into the nape of his neck. Whiny moans and groans fill the living room as Jisung goes taut with his orgasm. 

“Ha-ah ohhhh Baby, I’m- ughh cumming-!”

His breathing is heavy and he’s pulling you so close that there is no point on your upper bodies that aren’t in contact. It takes a solid few minutes to control breathing and regain sense of where you are. Your poor couch. Jisung exhales with a smug grin and lidded eyes, looking up at you. His hands are drawing little circles into your waist. 

“Sit here Baby, let me go get some things to clean up..” he says before pulling you off to sit limp against the couch. He comes back with a soft damp washcloth, and water. 

“Oh… thank you, my Dear.” You say as you take the water with both of your hands.

“You’ll have to cut that out unless you want round two…” Jisung warns with a tilt of his head. Two cups of tea sit long forgotten on the kitchen island, cool enough that they can be used for iced tea instead.

☆ Read more of my works here~ masterlist

Warning: Everything I post is 100% my original writing & thoughts. This also includes the moodboards at the beginning, that I create. Please do not plagiarize or copy. Tag for inspiration or add-ons. Reblogs are appreciated! <3

[ddarker-dreams]

do you have any hcs of what the yan genshin boys would b like when darlings on her period?

i'm gonna rank them from best to worst when it comes to dealing with this . let's see how they do.

best

zhongli is on top of his game. it's like he was born for the sole purpose of pampering you when you're under the weather. he'll insist on you taking it easy, drinking soothing teas, eating nutritious meals, and taking medication for whichever symptoms are the most prominent. if he seems oddly content, it's because he is. he won't state it outright, but he wants to leave the impression that him being in the position to care for you like this is worth the sacrifice of some... freedom. he knows of herbs and remedies to help make the experience as painless as possible.

kazuha already dotes on you as if you were royalty. while he leads a rather transient lifestyle, he puts your travels on pause to ensure you're properly cared for. he's sweet to a degree that'd be condescending from anyone else, but because it's kazuha and it's completely genuine, you can't call him out on it. he'll lay your head down on his lap and softly recite poetry until you doze off. he might not know much about periods specifically, but he treats it as if you were injured and need to be nursed back to health. he makes you your favorite meals from ingredients foraged locally. considers it a privilege on his part to be able to care for you. warmth blossoms in his chest whenever you have no choice but to ask him for something, your pride temporarily discarded.

albedo knows when your period is about to start before it even crosses your mind. he calculates every phase of your cycle and writes the important dates down in a calendar. he's all about preemptive care, he'll give you some concoctions of his own making the night before your period is due to start so you don't even have to worry about cramp pain. if you've been particularly troublesome lately, he might withhold this miracle elixir until you butter him up. he doesn't come outright and tell you this either, you have to do some trial and error to discern the specifics. as an alchemist, anything to do with the functions necessary to create life greatly fascinate him.

childe has sisters, so he's roughly familiar with how unpleasant periods are. he'll grin and reassure you that a little blood has never frightened him. thinks you're the cutest thing ever when you have to rely on him more. he's happy to oblige and is surprisingly intuitive about requests you never state verbally. he makes the tastiest soups, the kind that warm you from head to toe with every bite. there's no use trying to pretend you don't like it because he knows. he calms down on his tendency to tease you, since in his view, it's never his intent to actively make you feel distraught (unless you've acted out in a way that puts you in danger).

cyno means well (probably) but can come off as a little overbearing. he's literally breathing down your neck and constantly reminding you that if you need anything, just say the word. he's carrying you around, bringing you meals in bed, running all over town to get that one snack he knows you love; he's nothing if not dedicated. the thought of you being uncomfortable, much less in pain, is unbearable. when you do fall asleep, he's peeking into the room every five or ten minutes. every time you get your period, should any blood get on the sheets, he'll look you dead in the eye and ask if you've gotten in a fight lately. when you don't laugh, he starts explaining the joke, so it's better to force a chuckle.

diluc is just awkward about it. he refers to it as 'your time of the month' but even choking those words out is a struggle. he considers it to be a very private occurrence and thinks it'd be polite to tiptoe around the subject, as if it were taboo. the staff at dawn winery make further accommodations for you — everything you could ever want is a ring away. he's normally skeptical about you going outside, but since you're under the weather, he'll grant your request. if you're observant, you'll notice he's more inclined to give into your whims during this time. just don't get too carried away or he'll say he knows what you're doing at pointblank.

scaramouche is mostly annoyed that you're going to be more cranky for a while. your attention is essentially his lifeblood, but when you don't feel well, you're focusing on that instead of him. kind of inconsiderate tbh. once asked dottore if there's a way to prevent this, but dropped the idea when the harbinger said 'it only requires a few organs to be removed.' scaramouche would prefer your organs remain as is. he'll sigh and huff about how lucky you are to have him while spoon-feeding you, despite the fact he secretly enjoys it. his words are a whopping 10% nicer until you start to feel better, something he is frequently reminding you of. when your period is finished, he keeps staring in your general direction, fully expecting you to trip over yourself to thank him for his benevolence. if being delusional is a game, then he's winning.

when it comes to xiao, he's not awful per se, but this is likely his first encounter with menstruation, so you have to explain everything about it. he gets a bit freaked out the first time you wake up to bloody sheets, although you wouldn't be able to tell unless you closely observe his body language. he's somewhat at a loss when you explain what you need during your period and probably doesn't grab all the right things. he makes you eat these awfully bitter herbs that are supposed to help with pain. also makes some watery tea but gives you such a hopeful look, you don't have the heart to complain about the taste.

worst

[sukunas-wife]

PLEASE TEACHER SUKUNA!! I love him so much. Imagine him “proposing” after attending someone’s wedding and him saying something along the lines of “back when i was a brat, marriage was yet another political affair … im glad i found you now.”

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH I LIVE FOR AND LOVE TEACHER SUKUNA BECause I think of this VERSION in his “normal” form but I also- when he wants to be true form idk how but he can convert to true form. Because cmon he’s Ryomen Sukuna, if anyone can do it, it’s the 1000+ yo sensei. Let me get this show on the road :’)

Let’s pretend this was posted Easter morning as a little Easter gift 🤍🤍🤍

It was a few years after your graduation and you were well into your years as a teacher at Jujutsu high. 3 almost 4 years, considering you’ve been with Ryomen Sukuna for 3 of those years.

But today was a special day, it wasn’t an anniversary or anything, no it was a wedding.

There you sat by Sukuna, you couldn’t help but take a longer look out of the corner of your eye. You had to fight back a smile at his concentrated brow, it made him look more annoyed than he already seemed to be. You saw his eye flick to you before you looked away to your left to avoid being caught.

Shoko leaned over, “So it’s Gojo and Gojo sensei, those poor kids aren’t going to know what hit them when they come in.” You laughed, “It’ll be hell if Gojo really starts to wear off on Gojo.” She snickered and you both straightened up catching Getou’s unimpressed and raised brow from the altar. You tried not to laugh when you heard Shoko force whisper through her laugh “Gojo sensei might get mad and punish us, be quiet y/n.” You wanted to laugh harder, having to hold yourself back as your stomach trembled and you bit your lip. You could hear Shoko letting out shaky breaths trying to breathe. You sniffled, hands grabbing at your robes, Satoru had persisted everyone dress in traditional attire because he knew it was what Suguru wanted even if he wouldn’t voice it.

You focused back on the scene, unaware of your hand still grabbing tightly to your robes until you felt heat moving over your own hand. Your eyes flicked over to see Sukuna’s hand on yours, he didn’t look at you giving your hand a squeeze telling you to let go. You did, your hand falling flat under his hold, you didn’t miss the way his head lifted slightly and the small twitch at his lips.

You did your best to turn your hand under his heavy hold, just managing to interlock your fingers and pay attention to the Vows. Satoru was saying something ridiculous that even Suguru was wearing a bit of a “are you serious?” Look. You heard Sukuna let out a single snort through his nose and it made you smile. You smiled bigger trying to not laugh when Suguru visibly sighed, shoulders slumping briefly when he looked over the crowd. There was no doubt he saw you and shook trying to force the laughs and smiles back while trying to look down to avoid his look. The time old question came around, “Do you, Satoru Gojo, take Suguru Geto to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Gojo was smiling like a fool, “I do.” Suguru had a small smile, Satoru was a fool but there was no doubt he was Suguru’s fool. “Do you, Suguru Geto, take Satoru Gojo as your lawfully wedded husband?” Suguru’s smile grew to be just as cheesy as Gojo’s “I do.” “You may now kiss the groom.” Yaga looked away not wanting to see the act directly in front of his face, being the one to marry them was enough in his eyes. Everyone cheered and applauded as the two shared their first married kiss. You couldn’t, considering the fact your hand was being held hostage, and due to the fact that everyone was asked to stand outside to congratulate the couple. Sukuna dragged you with him to the grooms while they were signing their marriage certificate. You were confused and were going to ask why, until Sukuna pulled out a gold fountain pen, it had a diamond. The two moved away leaving the paper to him, Geto had a small smile and Gojo was smiling like a fool. “Thanks for doing this man!” Gojo smacked Sukuna’s shoulder only getting a side eye, as he sighed the witness line with a perfect and extravagant signature. Get smiled at you, “Thank you for being a witness to our marriage.” You were confused still, until Sukuna handed you his pen then you understood. “Oh, it’s a pleasure Suguru, who else gets to say they officiated Satoru and Suguru Gojo’s wedding.” Your smile made Geto laugh while you felt like you were signing your life away.

��- —- —- —- —- —-

The evening passed as everyone drank and lived their party up. Sukuna had listened to you talk with Shoko and Haibara who were sitting at the same table. He was busying himself with his sake, eyebrows raising head tilting slightly as he was pleased with the quality. Maybe that dumbass Satoru did know enough to please him. “Come on y/n! Come congratulate the boys with me!” Shoko was surprisingly pulling at your arm and you laughed, “Sorry Sho, I already congratulated them, Take Haibara with you, I’m sure he’d love to go with you.”

“Nooooo I want you to go with me.” Sukuna was watching out of the corner of his eye, questioning why you were so persistent on not jumping up to bully Satoru and Suguru as you usually would. Finally Shoko relented with a sigh, taking Haibara with her, you smiled, shaking your head no as you looked at the table. Noticing sukuna’s Choko was empty, you took the sake to fill his cup. His brow querked, watching your soft features, “Are you unwell, woman?” You looked up at him a little confused “I’m fine Sukuna why?”

He took the choko you had just filled, watching you as he drank. “Then why didn’t you go with your little friend?” You hummed with a small smile filling his choko again, “I’d really rather just be here with you Sukuna.”

That was the end of that conversation as peace fell over your quiet table and your companions came back, Shoko complaining that Haibara kept apologising for her. She had begun to tell you some of the things she had said to which Sukuna had even chuckled to himself. The festivities ran into the last hours of the night, Satoru was tearing it up on the dance floor trying to messily seduce Suguru who was facing second hand embarrassment and turning away from the scene that was being recorded and photographed by not only 5 different professional photographers but everyone who snuck their phone in, you included much to Suguru’s dismay. Sukuna was smiling watching “That idiot Gojo” present a ridiculous scene that he would never live down. You understand now why Gojo never drank when the party came to an end because Gojo became brave and tried to hollow purple a mosquito that had landed on Suguru’s cheek.

At that point you had lost it burying your face against Sukuna’s arm trembling from laughing. He looked at you amused seeing you gasping for air and silently laughing tears welling in your eyes. It was time for him to take you home, maybe he shouldn’t have let you join him in all those rounds of sake.

But he could admit to himself, he enjoyed the confidence you displayed, the sight of you smiling and touching him so casually as if he wasn’t the 1000+ year old king of curses who could so easily overthrow your little world.

—- —- —- —- —-

The Monday after was uneventful, back in School tending to students. Studying them to see where their weaknesses were, figuring out where you need to help them improve.

“What are you thinking?” You turned to find Suguru. “These kids suck, look at this.” Your hand motioned to them, they were getting beat up by Fushiguro who was putting no effort into battling the group of 5. Suguru smiled, closing his eyes, “Well it takes something special to hold your own against someone who’s well trained with a heavenly restriction y/n.” It sounded like he was teasing you. You side eyed him, “I could take him.” You joked and Suguru laughed, shaking his head, “I’m sure you could, but what are you really thinking? You didn’t even notice Satoru standing behind you for 10 minutes not too long ago. He was so offended by your lack of attention he ran to me to come find you.” You rolled your eyes, “Hard to believe that’s really how my superior acts.”

“Well?” Suguru asked, giving you a closed eye smile, it reminded you of a cyndaquil. You sighed, closing your own eyes, “thinking about marriage regretfully.”

You turned to see his eyes widened, “Sukuna proposed? Do you not want to marry him y/n?” He spoke in an incredulous whisper. While looking around, “No, he didn’t propose, and it’s not that I don't see myself marrying him if he ever did propose it’s…”

You fell silent, eyes looking away, “Don’t tell me your planning on over throwing the jujutsu world and that’s why you won’t commit Y/n.” He raised a brow at you and your eyes met his, “I, no! Maybe… no! Well actually…” your head tilted to the side, “no, no no that’s not it I don’t care about that, I don’t wanna say this on school ground because you never know who’s listening. But it’s not that I don’t see myself marrying Sukuna, I don’t see Sukuna marrying me at all.” Suguru gave you a look.

“Y/n you truly are a fool,” you gave him a look back, “A man doesn’t pay thousands for matching robes and kimonos for just any event because he’s just in a relationship y/n. You might not see it, but almost everyone else in this school can see it as plai- stink stink! I made you something.” You turned away from Suguru with a smile, “Stink stink huh?” He sighed, shoulders slumping, “He’s spending too much time on the American side of social media y/n. If I didn’t love him I wouldn’t tolerate this, the same way I can almost confidently say if Sukuna doesn’t genuinely love you even a bit, he wouldn’t tolerate you being as close as you are.” You watched as Suguru smiled, as satoru stood beside him. “A macaroni bracelet.” You smiled watching as Satoru tied it on Suguru’s wrist, “Now we match Suguru.” Suguru laughed through his nose, “That’s why we got custom rings Satoru.” Gojo pouted so you don’t want it?” You turned “Well I’ll leave both of you too it,” you waved them off leaving your poor students to Fushiguro’s hands.

Walking the school you were left thinking to yourself and judging your attire with every window you passed. Out of everyone in this school there was no doubt in your mind that you customise your requests more frequently than anyone, to think just last month you requested this style when Yaga was ordering necessities. You’d even gotten Sukuna to help you change your design a bit, he even branded the back of your shirt collar to have the mark his tongue had oddly enough.

“Where are you going, brat?” Sure enough there was Sukuna standing in an open window looking unimpressed and intrigued at how you were going to walk by him without notice.

“Oh, Sukuna! Sorry, I’ve just been out of it all day.” You looked at his face quickly, instantly deciding it was better to look at the floor. “Come here, it’s been a thousand years since my hearing started to go.” You laughed stepping closer knowing that was a lie, he could probably hear Geto hiding from Gojo half the time. Just as you got closer he grabbed the front of your shirt dragging you out the window like it was nothing. Leaving you stumbling and holding onto him before you felt the ground, the cigarette between his lips didn’t falter, “What’s wrong.” It wasn’t a question. “‘M just tired I guess, and my students aren’t doing too well. They should have a decent grasp on their techniques but it feels like they only get more and more hopeless. It feels like I’m not getting anywhere. So I asked Toji to rough em up for a while so they can at least work with cursed tools and close combat if they fail at their techniques.”

Sukuna was staring and listening, sure you said one thing, but he knew better than that. You never explained so deeply unless you were really trying to convince him of something to avoid something else. “Alright then.” Was all he said leaning back against the wall taking a drag from his cigarette. You let yourself fall into his side against his arm, you stayed like that for a bit until he pulled his arm free, dropping it over your shoulders and pulling you closer into his side. He didn’t know how to ask you what was troubling you so deeply so instead he let you find comfort in his side. He held you tighter when he felt you bury your face in his side, hand coming up to weakly grab his shirt. His hand rubbed your shoulder while he dropped his cigarette, stepping it out of existence, before he pulled you around to his chest. His arm stayed around your shoulders, that hand moving to the back of your head holding you head against his chest, his secondhand came to your back slowly rubbing up and down, resting his chin on your head trying to comfort you the way he had seen you comfort a child on one mission. Your sniffle sounded so pathetic yet it squeezed his chest in a way he didn’t understand, “Thank you Kuna…” your slight tug at his shirt didn’t loosen until you pulled away from him and he let you go.

The sun had started to set leaving you in an orange glow, you were curious why he was even around the school if he didn’t have a class today. “Why ar-I had a mission it was over before it began.” You smiled up at him, “I see.”

“Let me walk you back to your dorm, before your brats come to look for you.” His hands tucked into his pockets, you were quick to hug his arm when he offered his elbow with the slightest movement. It was nice, almost like you could have a normal life with Sukuna one day. Your walk was quiet and nice, you listened to Sukuna talk about his mission being a special grade, and a local deity of some village. She had been parading around saying she was the God of Curses, so he had to prove a point. You were humoured by the way his chest puffed when you offered praise saying of course The True King of Curses would be able to conquer Gods with ease.

It was after you were standing in your door facing him that you noticed him lingering. Did he want to come in? You were about to ask when he held out his right hand, you were confused, “Let me see your hand.” You were quick to put your hand in his and studied your hand with a blank expression, you became self conscious of your nails and what if your hands looked funny??? What if- you stopped feeling his thumb run over your knuckles, “Interesting.” Was all he said before letting your hand go.

“Rest y/n,” you watched as he stepped back, “Do your best to not worry so much. Only a fool would waste their life away wondering if something deemed impossible would ever really happen or not.” You were confused until your phone rang. You pulled it out looking away from Sukuna’s retreating figure. It was a message in a group chat with Geto, Gojo, and Shoko, ‘Oh, our little Y/n is taking a man to her home.’ Shoko sent a clear picture of where you were holding onto Sukuna’s arm, he was staring down at you, you were looking up at him, and your dorm house was very clearly in frame. Then Geto sent an image, “It seems she had it planned from earlier today.” It was a video of Sukuna dragging you out the window followed by a picture of the way Sukuna held you against him. Gojo finished you off, “I will give it till the end of the year and she’s either pregnant or getting married.”

—- —- —- —- —-

Spring days warmed to summer afternoons as months passed, you found yourself dying on the engawa in your new uniform. It was a light material and fitted long sleeve shirt and loose pants like Suguru’s, you’d take Toji’s advice and get shoes like his, they were perfect for slipping off and throwing at people like Gojo even if they’d never hit him. He’d forget in the moment and would fold easily.

One thing didn’t change, the mark of Sukuna stayed permanently embroidered on your shirt. “Y/n?” You lifted your head from the wood, opening your eyes, “Oh, hi.” You smiled at Shoko who gave you a sympathetic look, “Why aren’t you at the school? We’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh, my kids are on a mission and I get the feeling they won’t be back till tomorrow. I didn’t want to do any extra work so I just came home.” She watched as you moved to lay on your side, one leg stretched out and the other propped up. Your head being half up by an arm that was propped up, your free hand grabbing a fan to fan yourself, “It’s so hot even in the shade it’s ridiculous, I need the fall season to come back.”

She watched you, “Your significant other was looking for Y/N, maybe you should find him?” She shrugged, “But that’s all I know though, have fun.”

You whined licking your feet, with the summer festivities there have been so many festivals, tourists, and things festering, everyone’s been on double time. Meaning you hadn’t seen Sukuna as frequently as before, and now he was looking for you? You should have called him, but your phone fell off the engawa and you hadn’t picked it up, and Shoko had left before you remembered. They passed as you laid there spacing out in your own head in fantasies of arguments you’d probably never have but preparing so you could win. Your argument with Gojo was interrupted with Sukuna’s voice, “How long are you planning to ignore me woman?” You rushed sitting up forcing your stiff muscles to cooperate.

“I wasn’t ignoring you, I was just…” your head tilted to the side, “thinking over a conversation I had with Satoru.” He knew instantly you were just arguing with a figurative Gojo in your head, oddly enough he had caught Satoru doing the same. He humoured himself thinking the two of you had some unknown connection to insult and argue with one another. “Take this and get ready, we’re going out tonight.”

You were excited the moment you saw the box, Sukuna surprisingly had very good taste in attire, but what you were more excited for was that if he got you a new set of robes it means he also had a new set of robes to match. You jumped up carrying the heavy box with you getting ready to run into your dorm before you stopped, placing the box down and being about eye level with Sukuna thanks to the raised engawa. You pulled his face to the side kissing his cheek, “Thank you, I’ll get ready quickly.” Just as you were about to rush off you stopped smiling sheepishly, “Will you pass me my phone? Please?” He looked down following your finger, there it was, your phone. He reluctantly picked it up muttering something under his breath until he saw your Lock Screen. There was no chance in hell he hadn’t noticed someone following both of you to your home. Yet there was proof, he was becoming too comfortable with you. The picture from behind, of you holding onto his arm from months ago. He passed you your phone, “I’ll be back after you let me know you’re ready.” You smiled nodding, “I’ll call you as soon as I finish up.”

—- —- —- —- —-

It took you an hour to have a quick shower, and fix the robes you thought were so pretty. They were light blue and white, and you couldn’t help unceremoniously flailing your arms around making the extended fabric of your sleeves flutter and fly around with loud sounds, “It’s so pretty.” Your little pose in the mirror made you feel cute before you tied your hair back with the blue hair ribbon. It was failure after failure until you gave up and Sukuna arrived. He walked in to watch you aggressively pulling the ribbon out of your hair flinching when you lost 2 or 3 hairs. You watched Sukuna standing behind you when you were aggressively tie your hair to fail, finally he smacked your hand lightly when you tried to yank the ribbon out again. “Stop mistreating my things L/n.” His voice was a stern warning when he slipped the ribbon from your hand, you looked down slightly feeling his hands run over your hair. His fingers running over your scalp pulling a bit of your hair back, you watched through the mirror as he pulled the ribbon from between his lips tying it easily, you were going to move but you noticed how his hand lingered on the strand of hair tied by the ribbon. He let it slowly slip from his hold, “We need to leave.”

Sukuna had brought you to walk with him through the Arashiyama Bamboo grove. It was a summer night, but also the night of a festival meaning it wouldn’t be as busy as you normally would be. It was exactly what you expected as you walked through the Bamboo forest, full moon rising and lighting up the sky.

You held onto Sukuna’s arm, head laid on his shoulder as he casually led you through the space. Until you made it to decent sized clearing you’d seen many tourist use for photos. “Sukuna,” your voice was like a whisper. His eyes flicked to look down at you, “hm.” “Can we take a picture here? This is the first time we’ve been together here and I’ve seen people take pictures here, so maybe we can….” You were smiling at him hopefully. He looked at you a second longer than you liked to admit, “Your ambition is palpable, I’ll feed into your desires for now y/n.” You didn’t miss the spark in his eyes, as you handed him your phone, he set it up along with his on the fence point across from where you stood. It was weird for him to use his phone, usually any photos you took you’d send to him whether he’d ask or not and he’d be content with that.

Still he stood by your side, you pulled his heavy arm around his waist to rest your head on his shoulder. Your right arm behind his back to hug his waist, your left hand reached out to take his right hand to hold it in the picture. It was cute, your phone screen flashed but Sukuna’s hadn’t so you stayed still hoping it would. That was until you felt Sukuna pull himself away, you looked at him about to stop him.

Your expression was priceless, your dropped jaw, wide eyes. The look of disbelief, the way your hands smacked your face covering your eyes and moving down to cover your mouth while you started to tear up. He hadn’t even had time to ask the question before you were crying, “Listen to me before you started crying y/n.” You sniffled, wiping your face vigorously and unceremoniously with your sleeves nodding and trying to pay attention to him.

He tried his best to look at you, but his eyes faltered and he took a deep breath, “I understand the concept of marriage in our eyes were to completely different things,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ve heard you say it many many times that if you ever married a man it would be because you’re affections were deeply requited. My own,” he closed his eyes clenching his jaw for a second, “My own interests in marriage were strictly political or to produce what could be a stronger generation.” His eyes were somewhere beyond you, before he settled on your face, you could see the brief flash of vulnerability, “When I was an ambitious and aggravating brat I had only ever thought of marriage as a way to improve one’s lineage, as the golden age of sorcery came to an end for its own reason, my ideals of a political marriage have come to an for one sole reason.” He opened the ring box showing a flashy golden ring, “Your presence is peculiar, your ambition and confidence are palpable, there is no soul on this earth that has ever managed to catch the attention of my body, soul and mind. I feel as if our lives have become ensnared with one another like the wild wisteria. As displeasing as it sounds, I can wholeheartedly admit y/n, that in all my years, with every breath, I am gratified, elated, and beyond pleased to have found you, so now I ask you,” you were tearing up at his little speech, “Y/n…” he paused and you could feel his judgement for your years before you saw the smile tug at the edge of his lips, he knew he had you hooked and you wouldn’t say no even if he made you stand there for another 30 minutes, “Will you have the honour in marrying- YES! Sukuna, yes!” You tacked him in a hug, kissing him and kicking him back, he held you with one arm snapping the box closed to not lose your ring. He was sat back on the ground, you were in a weird position of kneeling and lying on him while you wrapped your arms around his neck kissing him, he kissed you back pulling you against him tighter in a rougher kiss. You laughed against his lips pulling away taking his face in your hands kissing his forehead, cheeks and lips again. He let you, amused by your actions he didn’t fight off your public displays of affection, instead he revelled in the feeling of your lips on his skin until you stopped offering to help him up. After he stood you were snuggling up to his side hugging his arm, you didn’t care about the right, you were content enough knowing he had asked the question, at this rate in your brain you were saying he could give you a bread tie with a craft gem and you’d probably show it off anyways. He looked down at you, your little love struck closed eye smile. Still he took your hand and you opened your eyes watching as he popped open the white swan ring box, sliding the ring onto your finger, it was a perfect fit. You ooo’ed before reaching up to his face to pull him down and kiss him again. You were going to pull away when you felt his hand pull you back into him, he kissed you this time, “This is your warning y/n, if I find you mistreating my things against you will be punished, hmm.” You felt the embarrassment and heat on your face when you buried your face against his shoulder, “I uh… I understand .”

—- —- —- —- —-

“Alright- so as Satoru so kindly pointed out,” you forced a smile at Gojo who snickered, this is a waste of time because Mr. Nah, I’m Sato Gojo, wants to prove he’s the best he’s taking all special grade assignments this months everyone just throw your stuff at Hoe-jo.” Shoko snickered and Gojo protested “That’s not what I meant! I don’t wanna get stuck doing all the special grades!”

“WELL THAT'S TOO DAMN BAD SA TO RU You’re doing them because you made me mad” your line made Sukuna laugh through his nose catching almost everyone’s attention for a second, before he reclined in his sets arms crossed his chest.

“Now, Yaga wants us to list down things we need for this new semester and no one is going to take time later this week to do it so I’m doing my best to do a general list,” everyone watched as you started to hang a large paper pad on the roll in board, “So this is the list of general items everyone usually requests.” You motioned with your hand to the names off most of the teachers, “you see here-IM SORRY-“ Gojo cut you off looking at you in disbelief, “but what’s that???” He was pointing at you accusingly and you were confused just to see Geto, Shoko and Haibara as equally judgmental, Nanamin, Toji and Sukuna were having their own conversation, you felt your eye twitch “what do you mean SATORU, I JUST EXPLAINED ITS A LIST- NO Y/N WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT DO I MEAN!? LOOK AT THAT!” He pointed again and you looked at the board, “Satoru please I will cry if your playing with me again,” Sukuna looked over briefly at the mention of your crying. Geto spoke up, “Y/n… I really don’t think he’s playing if you just think about this for a second.” You watched as he waved his left hand around as if telling you to continue, “Suguru, If I didn’t think he was playing I would 100% give him an answer, and I did-“ Shoko gave you an incredulous look, “Sweetie, y/n.” You watched as she held up her left hand, taking her ring finger between her thumb and pointer finger. It was then you slowly looked at the board, your hand splayed out on the paper. There was your ring, gleaming at its mention under the school's light.

“Oh… THAT'S what you mean.” You looked back at Gojo, he was giving you an “Are you serious look?.” You cleared your throat, “You see Satoru, all those times you say you move in silence because you're a beast of prey or something like that?” He raised a brow, “So you do watch my snap stories? “Regrettably yes, they make me laugh and cringe, but you see -OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT!” You pointed out the window with pure fear, they all rushed over letting you slip out the room unnoticed, “Escaped that situation.” Just as you were making your way down the hallway you heard screaming coming from the room, more specifically Satoru, “WHO SAID YOU COULD MARRY MY Y/N RYOMEN!?” you heard the whack clear as day, “GAH Sugguurruuu why’d you hit meeee???” You smiled to yourself, “Who said she was your y/n Satoru?”

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[if-loves]

a dream of nothing.

// Yandere Sunday

sum: Sunday is a good man.

wc: 1343

a/n: likes & reblogs appreciated! asks are welcome ❤️

Penacony, the land of dreams; Penacony, the planet you’ve come to call home.

You’re not a native of this dreamland, and no matter how much you attempt to assimilate into the culture, you always feel like you’re standing on a completely different stage, miles away from Penacony. You haven’t been back to your home in a long time, but you haven’t been counting the days.

Everyone has been kind. They offer you help the second you look like you need it, unsolicited tips and advice when it comes to their mind. Everyone has tried their best to help you in the ways they know how, and you couldn’t be more grateful… So why is it that there’s a gaping hole in your chest, exactly where your heart is supposed to be?

Sunday married you out of love, a grand wedding held in your names in Blue Hour, a gorgeous ceremony taking place on the lovely Eventide boat, reception on the marvelous airship, the Radiant Felspar; it was certainly the event of the era. As fondly as you’d like to look back on those memories, you find yourself looking at them with an emotion you can’t quite describe.

It’s not happiness, nor is it anger. It’s neither sadness nor disgust, but something in between all of it? It’s not indifference either, because whatever you feel is strong, but not so strong that you’ve felt an urge to act upon it. No, whatever it is that you’re feeling, is worse than all of those emotions combined - precisely because you don’t know what you’re feeling.

These feelings taint your every thought, and as much as you would like to do anything else, you don’t quite know your way around the mansion. It’s up to Sunday or one of the Bloodhounds to take you to the library or the dining hall, and it’s up to them to bring you back to the room. You’re only afforded the outside when it is Sunday who graciously brings you to it, but never when you request for it.

How long has it been since you’ve been in Penacony? No one tells you anything, not even the flowers. They stay the same, frozen in time, forever in the state of blooming but never rotting, forever beautiful but never loved. No one cares for things until they are gone, and if something never leaves, then no one really has to care.

Sunday is a good man. You think so, at least. He has some peculiar traits, but everyone has something about them that makes them unique. He has never made you doubt his love for you, and he has done nothing but love you faithfully. He’s happy to tell you vague details about his work, of course much of it confidential due to their political nature, and he always enjoys listening to you speak about yours, no matter how mundane and uninteresting it is to you.

Sunday likes hearing your voice, you think. You hope so. He never lets you sleep without saying an “I love you”, and he never leaves without an “I love you” from you. Surely that means something, right?

“Darling, what’s got you worked up? Your face is scrunching up the same way it always does when you start to think.” Sunday snaps you out of your train of thoughts, a gloved hand tilting your chin up for your eyes to look at him. He has a gentle smile on his face as he always does, his wings fluttering and his golden halo gleaming.

“A-ah, Sunday, it wasn’t anything really!” You reply in a bit of a daze, still reeling from his sudden appearance.

“I hope so. You have nothing to worry about here, so there’s no need to think so hard. If you have any troubles, you know I’m always here.” His right hand slides down from your chin to your left hand, and before you know it he has forced you to stand and twirl, leading you right into his arms. With fondness in his eyes, he closed the distance between your lips, a kiss so enchanting you’re not quite sure what it was you were thinking about before.

You feel the heat on your cheeks as you part, suddenly too shy to look into his eyes. Sunday chuckles and it’s a pleasing sound, like a bell tinkling, and you think you could listen to it forever, held in his arms in this position, a moment after a kiss, a moment before another.

Instinctively, you lean in for another, eyes already half-lidded and arms around his neck, but your lips never meet their destination, a crash stopped by a buffer of wings. He smiles easily, a hand on your cheek as he leans down to whisper in your ear in an almost sinful manner - but never is it a sin, you think, not when it is Sunday.

He leads you to the dining hall, your hands intertwined, but you no longer feel at peace. There are voices that speak to you, forcing you to be their sole audience in their never-ending play of torment and despair. Sometimes… sometimes there are things staring at you, something with bright pink - purple? - eyes, and you start to think that those voices are real.

Something lurks in the corners of this mansion, and you think it’s out for you.

Sunday says otherwise, though. He looks concerned, but you don’t feel like the concern is directed to your worries specifically - no, it’s directed to you. Like there’s something wrong with you. And… and maybe he’s right. No normal person would hear these voices or feel eyes on them, no normal person would feel uneasy about the people around them, and no normal person would dislike the thought of a flower never dying. You, you other the other hand -

Sunday is always right, you’ve come to realize. And he’s right about you - you’ve known that for a long time now. You’re a silly girl who once thought the universe was your oyster when you could barely leave your own planet without hesitation and reluctance. You’re a silly girl who took the first opportunity you were given, ignorant of any repercussions that would shape your future - yet still jumped into the unknown with fear, when the first rule of survival is never let them smell your fear.

Now, now? You’re stuck in the predator’s maw… and it’s become the only place you feel safe in, in between layers of sharp and venomous teeth, living in between the unsaid threat of a dreamless sleep, living in between the safety of the threat of death.

You don’t like what lies outside your room. You don’t like the puzzles and tricks, and you don’t like the people. There’s… there’s something wrong… but there’s no one who will listen to you, and there’s no one you can trust. Can you even trust yourself?

Everything is a blur, and you can’t - don’t? - remember anything. Is this a self-defense mechanism, or the artful plan of someone? Walls are nothing but a splash of color, patterns sunk into nothingness, faces are all but the same, mashed into one. Individuality, singularity? Who even are you?

“Goodnight, my beloved.” Sunday says, and you feel something being draped over you. Your eyes blink rapidly, trying to make sense of your surroundings, but the fabric of silk gloves close them without hesitation.

“I love you.” The words that come out of your mouth don’t feel like your own.

“I love you too. Now, sleep.” The door opens and closes, and you’re left alone as you always are, in the safety of this room, awaiting sleep within a dream. What was it that you were thinking about, again?

Ah, that feeling. Yes, that feeling of not happiness but not sadness, not anger but not disgust, something in between but not indifference… Perhaps numbness or nothing is the closest you’ll get. What’s the point in trying to figure it out? It’s not important.

Is there even a “night” in the land of dreams?

[pennyserenade]

devil in his heart | jackson rippner x reader

summary | after finding out your long-time boyfriend's real occupation, you have to grapple with who he really is. rating | (explicit) tags/warnings | 18+, dark, dubcon (bordering on noncon), smut, explicit smut, fingering, degradation, violence word count | 1.9k+ a/n | i honest to god don't know what possessed me, but we are all grown ups here. read with caution! enjoy! love ya! also: i wrote this to devil in his heart by the donays and he's got the power by the exciters, if you're interested in a soundtrack. not beta'd

Truth be told, this is the best game of cat and mouse he's had in years, and he doesn't like that it's ending so soon.

As he gets on your level, crouching near your slumped form, Jackson almost feels a little sorry that you couldn't win. It's not that you weren't witty enough--you were. It's just that, well, he's better. This reminds him of when he was ten and had wanted to go to space only to figure out when he was twelve that he was too scared of the vastness of the galaxy. Some things are just out of reach, too good to be true. He mourns it all the same.

His fingers tenderly push back sweat soaked strands of hair from your face. You look up at him, blurry-eyed, but still so resolute--lips thinned, smoldering with anger. God. He swipes a finger across your lip just to know what it feels like, and likes it better for the fact that you jerk away so aggressively that you knock your head back into the wall.

His tongue clicks. "You should've known, after following me all those weeks, that I'm good at this."

Jackson wraps his fingers tightly around your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes. You give in, mostly because you have so little energy to protest. His eyes look ominously glacial, lit up only by the moonlight cascading in from the window.

You look down at his lips; the flesh there is still swollen, broken from the harsh swing of your elbow earlier in the night. His tongue spears out to feel at the area. "You're a sloppy assassin, baby. My blood's all over this goddamn place. All over you--" he gestures down to your simple white tee shirt, which has been made dirty with dirt, sweat, blood. You don't care. You feel dizzy and half-scared to pass out, to even think of it, because you've never seen him look quite like this.

You think back to that first time you met him, how he had seemed so polite. He was traveling by train to visit his folks back home for Christmas (he said things like 'folks' in a crisp Midwestern accent, for God's sake). He had said he worked in life insurance policy, which made you laugh and caused him to say, "I know, I know--ironic, Jack Rippner dealing out life insurance." You had thought it was ironic. It is: ironically cruel.

He buys his ties from GAP, his dress shirts from Macy's, likes EggNog and celebrates the fourth of July with as much enthusiasm as any plain, good-hearted American man can.

He’s met your mother; he loves her breadsticks.

You spit on him. It takes the very last of your strength, but it's worth it to see the way his eyes ignite. His hand wipes it off, thumb running through the saliva on his fingers as his lips purse. "You know," he begins, voice eerily calm, "I always thought we'd make good parents. God knows we've come close to it enough times. You just can't help but beg for my cum in you, the slut you are." He chuckles darkly. "I always imagined that you'd be the good cop and I'd be the bad one."

Jackson pushes your head back into the wall, propping you there, almost choking you, but not quite. You let out a deep, wavering breath. He smirks. "But I see that's not the case now, is it? You don't seem to like very much when I play with my food before I eat it, do you?" His fingers press against your lips again, saliva coated. You let him. "Here I thought, all along, 'my baby's a goddamn pacifist. She didn't even like fishing!' It kept me up at night, the idea of you finding out what I did. But look at you!" His thumb tenderly strokes your neck, moving around a mysterious fluid--could be your blood, his blood, spit, water, anything. "I think if I reached between your legs now, you'd be soaked."

You choke out a sound of protest, wiggling beneath his gasp. He tuts, his fingers digging more tightly into your throat. For a brief moment, you can’t breathe. You find enough strength to claw at his hand, to widen your eyes and plead.

“C’mon, you’ll like this. You always do.” He loosens his grip on your neck.

As you gasp for air, Jackson knocks your legs apart. It doesn’t take much effort to get your cunt—you’d foolishly made the mistake of wearing a dress today—and he hums in delight when his fingers reach past your cotton underwear, confirming what he suspected to be true. His lips form into a mocking pout as your eyes begin to well with tears. It's not fear—you’re beyond that. It’s anger. The betrayal of this curdles inside you, eating you alive. Your eyes fill with ire.

“Don’t be that way,” he shakes his head, softening a degree. He holds your chin between his fingers again, the other hand rubbing wide circles over your clit. “I’m not going to kill you. How could I? I’m not sure what I’m going to do with you, truth be told, but it’s not that.”

Your hips jerk involuntarily, causing him to growl. “That’s the spirit, kitten. When you hit me earlier, I thought—after, of course, 'God she’s a bitch!’—that you might be a good asset. I know you’ve got a lot of morals holding you back right now, so I figure I’ll let you do the easy work at first. Let you think you’re doing some good in the world.” He presses down on your clit, his touch more intent, more focused. You squirm, hating the way he knows that you like it like this.

His fingers slip down into your cunt, wetting them. “Fuck, you’re soaking. If this is how you get when we do this, you might just reform me. I’m not opposed. We—“ he reattaches his fingers to your cunt. You whine, arching into his touch.“—could do good work. I freelance, if you couldn’t tell already. Though I’m sure you can. You’re a thorough investigator when you want to be. That’ll be helpful, too.”

Jackson picks up his pace, swallowing as he stares down at your lap. He can’t see anything, his hand hidden beneath the fabric of the dress and your underwear, but it seems to thrill him all the same. You too, admittedly.

“I—I couldn’t,” you retort, biting at your lip. “You—you kill!”

“Don’t be such a prude,” he deadpans. “It’s political assassinations and occasionally, though very rarely, an innocent bystander. And I do my best to make sure those cases are few and far between. I do.” He presses down more intently, watching with delight as you squirm, trying not to cum. “Oh, go on. It’s just you and me here. No one’s gonna know except me, and I won’t tell anyone. I’m good with secrets. You know that now.”

He’s near exultant, talking to you about this. The pitch of his voice is higher, and he’s looking at you like he’s won a prize of the highest degree. You’d spit on him again if he wasn’t making you feel so goddamn good.

“I won’t do it,” you shake your head firmly. Jackson takes the opportunity to slip a finger in your cunt, to press in and show you how much he has always—will always—know you.

“Okay, okay, I’ll bite,” he soothes, entering another. It’s a squeeze, but a welcome one, especially when he begins to thrust them against the spongy surface of your walls. Your toes curl, and you hate him, hate him violently. “If you want me to be rough, you really only have to ask, but since you like this game so much we’ll play it.”

As he fingers you, he begins to palm your clit. The sensation is overwhelming. Tears cascade down your face and he leans forward, licking them from your lips. The warmth of the orgasm rises in you alarmingly quick, his fingers deftly touching the inside of you, his palm lining with your clit each time you rut involuntarily. Your body knows him. It trusts him. He knows it.

The orgasm licks through you like a goddamn flame, igniting everything and leaving it all worse for it. When you cry out, Jackson smirks, so fucking pleased. But he doesn’t stop. He goes on, rubbing down harder, thrusting in quicker, until you’re wiggling beneath him.

“Please!” you say, trying to move his hand away.

He’s resolute. “No can do, honey. You’ve been a naughty girl, indulgent in the worst way. Gluttony is a sin, and I've been good–I’ve never punished you for it before–but you’ve hurt my feelings now.”

He slides in a third finger, his crystal eyes dark in the shadows. You feel impossibly full, and on the brink of another orgasm. You whine out. He knocks your head back into the wall with force. It doesn’t take your breath away, but it stuns you to silence. “That’ll be enough of that. This is for me now, got it? Getting you all wet so my cock will fit in that tight cunt of yours. Want you to hear it, your pussy taking me.”

As if to prove a point, he thrusts in again, and you do hear it—the way your body allows him in. An obscene squelch. You bite your lip, feel more tears fall down your cheeks.

“Jackson—“ you plead. You’re tired, achy, terribly confused. He works you open so well. You can smell the sour sweet smell of his body odor. You love it. You cannot help it. Your body trusted this man for so long. Still does.

You fool, you tell yourself, before your body gives way to his will again—you collapse into him, screaming out a silent whimper as the orgasm makes you convulse.

“That’s it,” he encourages, not stopping. “Be good for me. If you’re good, we’ll make this enterprise into a family business. If you’re bad—well, we’ll just have to make this our life, won’t we? You all weak, me with all the power. I don’t think you’ll like it, but you understand, it’s how it must be done if you don’t obey.”

He sighs, as if it’s putting him out too.

You know he’s serious. What’s worse is you know he’s right: that you won’t like it, that he’ll get his way eventually.

When you give in, he knows immediately, lips quirking up into a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your temple. “I always knew you had it in you a little. You were always such a whore for me. I’m happy it worked out so well for us both. Now–” He pushes your legs further apart, moving in with his own hips. “Let’s play your most favorite game. It’s longer, requires more patience, but I like it just as much as you do.”

The jingle of his belt buckle makes a shot of fear, mixed with arousal, shoot up your spine. You think: God, no.

He laughs darkly. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ve been making sure you’ve been taking your birth control. I’m not really ready for that, either. It’s just the idea that thrills you, isn’t it anyway? And that smallest, tiniest chance that it could happen.” He smirks, loosening his belt. His fingers exit you, leaving you empty, feeling scandalized and ruined. Jackson rubs them on the cloth of your dress, uncaring.

“I hate you,” you spit out, venom lacing your words.

He looks thoroughly amused as he releases his weeping cock from his underwear. “No you don’t. You’re just ashamed of yourself. But fear not–” he wipes a tear off your face, “--when we’re done here, you’ll be glad for this. Just remember, baby, that I’m on your side.”

[marshmallowdarling]

Hi! I love reading your story's, can I request a yandere Hannibal x fem reader please?😊💕

It’s not surprising that Hannibal plays the long game but Hannibal also makes the game. 

It was easy for him to set up the game, almost laughably easy. He was a renowned therapist who helps police on cases, strong, smart, made a name for himself- a good name. Your parents didn’t even have a chance to have doubts when he came to ask for your hand in marriage. If anything your parents were elated, over the moon that you, the black sheep of the family, had the eye of a man like Hannibal. They practically threw poor little you to into his hands. 

One thing Hannibal likes is politeness, manners, and no matter when or how Hannibal had meet you he was struck with the need to understand you, figure you out and not in his usual killing urge type of way. After a few months or even years of following you around he finally realises what it is, love. 

Does he really think its love? Not really, its something deeper, more sinister than love. He would rip apart anyone that would try to hurt you, he wants to keep you safe with such feral intensity it’s not sane. But he himself can’t even breathe at the thought of hurting you himself either so he chalks it up with a simple word. Love. 

He should have seen it coming, really he should’ve since he had been watching and ‘protecting’ you for so long, but he’s still struck shocked when you fight back your holy matrimony with such pettiness and sass. You couldn’t stop your parents from practically forcing you to agree to marry him, getting dressed up in a dress you didn’t really care about, everything too grand and nothing like what the little girl in you envisioned. So, in retaliation you tried everything to get him to re-think his decision, anything to get him to divorce you, even if it meant being a sassy brat. Turning your nose up at his delicious food just to piss him off, doing little things you knew he hated just to push his buttons.

It’s cute, he thinks, really cute that you think being a brat would stop his heart from yearning for you so much his physically body aches being away from you. But you aren’t a brat, are you? Your just pretending because your sick of your parents stupid pressuring expectations, hating how they dictated every little thing in your life and now your ‘life’ partner. 

Every time you push and shove and take bits and pieces of his sanity it just fuels his obsession for you, every time he feels himself get frustrated or irritated it just makes him more head over heels over you. Staring at you with hearts practically in his eyes as you make his blood boil, he takes everything in stride. With a polite smile on his lips and insanity in his heart eyes. 

But he does feel bad, really he does, he feels bad that you have terrible no good rotten parents who are ready throw you to the wolves once they get their greed filled, or bad enough for a man who feels no remorse or guilt. Maybe its pity, he thinks, like how one looks at a wounded animal. But he could never see you at a level as an animal, no matter how adorably cute you are. Maybe a goddess then, a fallen goddess, he worships you as if you’re a goddess anyways, taking your sass and anger as some sort of twisted love from a holier being. 

He can’t help the feeling of amusement that bubbles up when he see’s you try to be a brat, but the manners engraved into your very soul peek out, like your body and mind are fighting on your decision to pretend to be mean when your really such a sweet nice darling. 

The little ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ that come out when you demand something from him or the sweet little ‘no thank you’ that you give him when you pretend to glare at him with faux hatred in your eyes, because you didn’t really hate him. How could you? He was unbelievably sweet and attentive, picking up on the little things you didn’t even know about yourself until he picks up on it. He was the best husband anyone could ask for, in and out, even if he could be a little serious, cold and calculative at times. Hannibal shields you from everyone, including your parents, shutting them down so quickly and efficiently when they start their bullshit of bringing you down it seems natural. 

And one day your fake anger towards him slips, your tipsy on alcohol and his love, its all consuming but it feels oddly soothing, like cool balm on an open wound. You stumble and almost trip, but his arms are already there to catch you, ready to do anything to keep you safe and without thinking you lean up and press a soft, albeit clumsy, kiss on his lips. 

Something in Hannibal snaps. The kiss, as quick and fleeting as it was felt like heaven. Like he was reborn, like for once in his life he could finally breathe.

You gave this dirty, blood-stained sinner a slice of heaven and now he’s your most devoted worshiper at your alter. For better, or for worse. 

~~

Hannibal has you pressed in a mean mating press, one of your legs thrown over his broad shoulders. The thin handmade anklet he got you for your wedding present, dainty and small, designed from start to finish by him with a little ‘H’ dangling on it chimes in his ear and makes his head spin. 

“I- god- I love you so much.” He groans out, sweat clinging to his brow as his messy blonde hair sticks to his skin. “Goddess." He murmurs into your skin, pressing his lips against your ankle, kissing all the way up to the side of your knee as he saours the way your skin feels on his lips. Pulling back he licks your sweat that smeared on his lips and he smirks. 

 His pupils are wide and blown as he gazes down at you with so much love and tenderness it hurts. Sweat clung to his muscular frame as he threw his head back, groaning so low you feel it in your tummy.

Your in worse shape than him, yourpractically writhing under him, not able to escape the torturous pleasure as he puts all his weight down onto you. As sweaty if not more than him, twisting and bucking and shaking, hair messed and sprawled out on the bed beneath you, eye brows knitted. Your breath being selfishly stolen by him as he takes and takes, gasps the only thing able to leaven you as well as broken keens and whimpers. You had long stopped trying to muffle your embarrassingly lewd noises, he had practically growled at you to let them out, not letting you hide anything from him. 

Sparks zing up your spine as he hits deep and a wail leaves you, your hand coming to push at his lower stomach, nails scratching over his muscles. Hannibal moans and his eyes roll at the feeling, quickly snatching your hand he slams it softly next to your head. His fingers entwining with his as he locks them together. 

Long deep slow strokes makes your brain melt out of your ears, brain gone all fuzzy as you get addicted to him and his touch. 

“Take it sweetheart, I know you can.” His breath hitches as he forces your thighs open wider to accommodate him, he looms over your more and the change of position makes you cry out. “Let me worship you my goddess, your mine, all mine.”  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Woo wee thats finally done! I hope my first proper attempt at smut was ok I think there was another ask for Hannibal but it was H/C's, I'LL GET TO YOU MY LOVELY I PROMISE 😭 Im trying to get back into writing but its hard, im sorry but I will get to you all. Some might be before others just because some things kick start my writing process 🥺 But please keep sending requests I love the ideas and support even if it takes me a bit to get to them. Hope you enjoy lovelies.

~Mwah ♡

[kiyo-cant-write]

hey, this is my first time sending a req, but can you write azul learning that reader has a crush on jade? like they tell azul and whenever they’re asked why they like him, they say something like “he’s cute” or “he’s so babygirl” or something and they’re just totally smitten

sorry if reqs aren’t open! ty <3

reader with a crush on jade talking to azul ✧･ﾟ

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Thank you for requesting! Yes, they are open (for anyone wondering!) Very happy to write some biases because I have a personal situation atm that is very stressful for me /gen pos

I love this request and I am excited to tackle it. I saw a few ways for this to go and ultimately went with the most comedic route!

So I am sorry if you wanted unrequited love, pining, and angst. Feel free to request again with more details if you think my take wasn't what you were looking for xD

Anyways, enjoy!! ^^

.

Summary: [Name] has one person on their mind and his name is Jade Leech. However, the person they choose to share these sentiments with is Azul Ashengrotto, owner and proprietor of the Mostro Lounge. And he is so happy to hear about it (/s)

TW/CW: None

Notes: gender-neutral reader, the reader is Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect, they/them pronouns for the reader, pre-relationship Jade/Reader but Jade isn't really present for most of it in narrative-

Guest Stars: Floyd Leech, Jade Leech (mentioned, brief)

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Azul Ashnegrotto (& Jade Leech)

Azul is annoyed from the moment it comes up.

He thinks that this meeting will be about business and instead... It's about Jade. Jade? Not even the twins, literally JUST JADE.

He wants to sigh but withholds it for the first half to be polite.

[Name] is very passionate in their rant[?] about Jade.

They say many phrases that Azul does not understand.

He knows many things... slang just isn't one of those things.

He hardly understands why they are so captivated by Jade.

Jade isn't a bad person, outright, but to Azul, he's just... been there. The same could be said of Jade's twin brother, Floyd.

Azul wants this interaction to be over, it's awkward.

But [Name] did not answer, they just kept on yapping. /ref

This is getting tiring for the young merman. What even... is this?

As it continues, Azul finds himself starting to see their point.

This octomer maybe realizes that he is bisexual during this interaction. But he's not sure he wants to think about that yet.

He does not intend to help [Name] woo Jade unless they ask.

Floyd is also there. Being Floyd.

Azul was quite sure he didn't plan for this today. It wasn't on his schedule, he couldn't imagine why it would be. Who let them in? He sighed at the thought. He knew that this was an esteemed guest of the Mostro Lounge, he should be nice to them, they were a "friend" to him now, after all... And he valued them within reason...

Floyd had gone as far as to say that he and [Name] were the "best" friends of the group. Azul didn't really care. But he supposed the value must be true if the twins were interested. Jade seemed equally enthusiastic about this when it had been discussed.

Sigh. But this? This was pressing every button he had in the worst of ways and he was having trouble ignoring it. Every word grated on his last nerve and made him want to scream (and that would not be good for his image!).

"[Name]..." he began, only to be cut off by their (ongoing) speech.

"Azul! Don't you just love Jade?"

Azul paused. What? What did [Name] just ask me? Had he misheard them? He had to have misheard them. There was no way...

Composing himself, he answered.

"He is an associate of mine, yes—"

He was cut off by [Name] before he could finish the sentence.

"But isn't he dreamy?" they asked him.

Double what? Oh, this was happening. Joy.

"Well, you see—" Azul began, trying once more to explain before he was cut off again by the over-excited Prefect of Ramshackle.

"I just think he's so babygirl."

"You... what?" Azul said, turning to them with enough force to be cause for worry about the state of his neck.

"I said—" [Name] attempted to repeat before he cut them off.

"No, I heard you," Azul told them, "You consider Jade as a woman?"

This had to be some kind of land thing. Right? That, or he was once again spending too much time with books and not enough time with real people. It was just as his mother and grandmother had always said back home under the sea. He sighed at the very memory of it.

"No?" [Name] said, "Well, I mean, unless I should. Should I?"

Azul thought about it for a moment. Jade wasn't one to care about gender but he had never mentioned anything about womanhood. Noting that he answered their question with honesty.

"...He hasn't said anything to me about the matter."

"Oh, good. I wouldn't want to misgender Jade."

[Name] seemed relieved.

"You. I. You?" for a moment, Azul was at a loss for words, "Nevermind. [Name], what in the world has you so captivated with Jade today?"

They seemed to melt a little at the mention of Jade's name. They were clearly... invested in Jade. Surely this wasn't normal? Was it?

"He's just so—"

Azul sighed, cutting them off to explain he understood the concept.

"A young girl, I heard you the first time," the octomer said.

"He's just so perfect I can't even right now!!" [Name] gushed.

A second sigh escaped Azul, he wanted this moment to end. It was painfully awkward to hear about his... colleague like this. Not to mention inappropriate! They should just go tell Jade about this interest they had. Why him? What did he do to invite this?

"That makes two of us, though my frustration hardly lies with Jade."

"Hm?" [Name] asked, confused by the statement.

What did Azul mean by that, exactly?

"Nothing, nothing," Azul assured them through gritted teeth.

Like that, [Name] was back on their Jade high.

"Just... Jade."

"Indeed, er, I suppose," Azul said, relishing in the quiet that grew between them as [Name] observed Jade working from afar.

Jade and Floyd were waiting tables today. Floyd had complained that he was not in a "cooking mood" and decided that running orders around the lounge was much more "fun." That one gave Azul a headache, but that was normal.

Regardless, Azul only had one thought as [Name] watched Jade...

Silence! Sevens, finally.

But as he took a moment alone with the subject, his mind wandered down every path that [Name] had suggested about Jade, about the world. What would be different if Jade were a woman? Was Jade attractive? These were possibilities that Azul had never entertained.

It was enough to push toward a headache if he wasn't careful. Too much new information could be harmful to the mind, he knew this well. But it was something that his thoughts seemed to hook into, holding on tightly as if to say "Try to take this from me."

Azul's mind was a montage of every moment between himself and Jade (Floyd was also there but that was not important at the moment) since they had come to land. From Land Camp to Night Raven College... He had spent a lot of time with Jade.

Had something changed? For him? Jade? Anyone? Floyd?

...Maybe not Floyd. Unless? Hm, the twins in this light. Men in this light. Men? Men? Oh, dear. Well... it was something to think on. Something to not tell Mother, or Grandmother... or Stepfather...

"..."

He stood silently until [Name] poked his shoulder.

"Uhm... Azul? Are you okay?" they asked him, seeming a tad worried.

"Hm? I am fine, I suppose. You've given me something to..." the octomer trailed off for a moment, "Think on, I suppose."

"I did?" they asked, confused at the statement.

He didn't want to elaborate on this just yet. Too soon, far too soon.

"You did," he told them, "Just some... New information."

"Oh," [Name] said, "You're welcome, then?"

They laughed albeit a bit awkwardly as they spoke.

"SHRIMPY!!" a voice rang out from across the room.

Ah, they were noticed by a moray. The moray was sprinting toward them, closing in. Closer, closer... Target acquired. Squeeze. It was much gentler than when Azul instructed Floyd with clients.

"Hi, Floyd!" [Name] greeted him.

"Heyy," Floyd offered, "What are you doing with Azul, huh? Is he keeping you to himself?~"

[Name] tilted their head to the side at the question. What did Floyd mean by that? They liked Jade. They thought Floyd knew that but they shrugged it off as a Floyd-ism.

"We were just chatting," they told him.

"Maa, sounds boring! Wanna come play with me?"

Azul was almost thankful that there was a distraction from his obvious inner confusion. He had to hand it to Floyd's eccentricities, they came in handy sometimes (not often, but sometimes).

The eelmer picked up the human and slung them over his shoulder with ease. This was why people were scared of Floyd. He has monstrous physical strength.

"Eh?? Floyd, where are we going?" [Name] asked him, holding onto his shoulder to keep from accidentally falling onto the floor.

"We're playing 'Let's Bother Jade'!" Floyd told them, running toward his brother at the same speed he'd run towards [Name] earlier.

Azul turned to see Floyd (and [Name]) inches from colliding with Jade (who was holding 4 plates of food)...

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Imagine the rest for yourself~

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

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[witch-hazels-musings]

a gesture

Warning -> fluff | reader gets a blister on their foot, genshin men notice and provide respite from the discomfort | pre-relationship (it's silly, and dumb, but let me have this)

Includes: Diluc, Xiao

Character X GN Reader (adventure guild reader*) | Anthology

A-N: I was planning on writing for a few more characters, but I'm a bit slow in my genshin right now, plus I *should* be resting ... 人(_ _*)

Diluc

"Be right there!" you shouted over the calls echoing in the hall. Your hand dropped from your lips and back to the stack of rolled papers in your arms. The guild was busier than normal. Perhaps it was because of the snow fading from the streets, or the warmer wind blowing in from the south. Being surrounded by the lake meant damper and colder winters, but you didn't mind.

You loved the snow.

What you didn't love was returning to restrictive shoes now that the cobblestone streets were less barred by ice. You missed your warm fur-lined boots.

"Hey, got a few more requests for you to review," you told one of the auditors as you leaned onto the polished wood counter that separated you from the workers just inside. You tapped the toe of your shoe on the floor to force room between your heel and the leather rubbing against it. "Oh, and this came from Alfry." You reached into your pocket and handed a folded, sealed letter to the attendant.

After waiting for several minutes, and shifting from one foot to the other - relief waning and waxing - you made your way outside toward the Kiosk near the front of Mondstadt. It took a while, you were particularly slow on the stone steps of the city since each one put added pressure on your heels. You could feel a blister on the horizon.

Katheryne greeted you with a wave when she saw you.

She was, without a doubt, one of your favorite people. She didn't lock you in long, uninteresting conversations about her life outside of work. She just thanked you for the updated commissions and let you be on your way. You wished everyone was like Katheryne.

It wasn't that you hated talking to people. You just preferred to get your work done and found it distracting to get lost in small talk about the weather. But you learned to be pleasant and control your drifting eyes that willed your soul to be anywhere but there.

When you approached the Guild, someone called you over and explained you were being requested in one of the assessment rooms. A room used by evaluators and requestors to work out the details of a commission. You weren't an evaluator - so who could possibly be asking for you?

You imagined several scenarios except for this one. The one where Diluc Ragnvindr was standing on the other side of the door, waiting for - you. In fact, you were so unprepared, taken aback, that you rechecked the room number.

It was odd to see Diluc outside of his normal patterns. The man was routine. Days spent at Angels Share, days absent from the city while he tended to his estate at the Dawn Winery. You had several run-ins with him over the years since his reappearance, but they were always in public spaces. Fleeting, nervous moments when you'd gather the courage to ask him for a drink while he worked or make polite - short - conversation when he dropped it off. You didn't even know he knew you worked at the Adventurers Guild.

"Sir Ragnvindr, is something - how can I help you?" you asked as you stepped inside the room and let the heavy door close behind you.

"Have I pulled you away from your work?"

"Yes," you said but caught yourself, "No. I mean, yes, but it's alright. Are you alright?" The thought crossed your mind that perhaps something had happened. An issue at the Winery or the tavern, maybe he thought you were the best person to help him? Not sure why. But you did know a lot of adventurers.

"I am well. Please," he gestured to the table and chairs beside him. Crossing the room, you noticed a tall, decorative bag on the corner of the table. The top was knotted by someone with experience. Diluc placed his hand on the table, and you stopped a few feet from him. He looked -- odd. Out of sorts even.

"Did you need something from the Guild? I'm not sure if anyone told you, but I'm not an evaluator, but I can find someone who can assist you in building a commission report."

"I do not require one. I am ..." he clenched his jaw and fumbled. "Please, sit," he repeated, gesturing to the chair slightly pulled out beside you.

Confused, you took a seat.

You considered yourself a rational person, a relatively calm person. One that could keep their head in most situations, but when the man you could hardly look at long enough to breathe knelt in front of you, lifted your calf, and began to untie your shoe, you yelped so loud it startled him.

"Dilu- I mean, Sir Ragnvindr, what are you doing!?" You reached for his arm but pulled back at the last second. A war raged inside your mind - one billowing urge shouted to push him away so you could steady your fluttering heart, and the other shrieked, terrified of making contact out of fear he'd know the truths of your unsettled heart.

"These are uncomfortable, are they not?"

You glanced at your shoes. "I mean - yes, but you don't have to worry about it. Please," you begged, fingers hovering above his hand, body fighting the will to rip free from his grasp. "Sir Ragn-"

"Diluc," he interrupted and looked up at you, "I much prefer when you call me Diluc."

You didn't know how to respond, didn't know how to react, so you just sat frozen while he carefully removed your shoes and tended to the wounds they had caused.

His touch was warm. Violently warm. It was like heat seeped from every bit of him. Tendrils of flames licked across his brow, his cheeks, his jawline. You were so close you could smell the earth and trapped dust from the melting snow trapped in his clothes.

He placed the bandage across your foot and carefully wrapped it until it was secure.

"T-Thank you," you mumbled. You were stuck between being embarrassed by what was happening and being smitten by it. You were in a haze. Your eyes could barely focus on his hands as he worked, barely noticing the stick he placed beside your right foot. The medicine he applied had soothed the soft burn of the blister.

He stood and a wave of his scent washed over you. It took a moment for you to catch your breath, but when you did, you reached for your shoes that he had placed on the table.

"I'll repay you for the treatment."

"No need," he replied as he tugged at the decorative cloth bag. His back blocked you from what was inside. You worked on stretching the laces of your shoes so you could slip them over your foot. Just as you were about to place them on, Diluc returned and stalled your actions, taking the shoe from you and returning it to the table. He easily held your calf and slipped on another shoe. A flat, wide one that wouldn't rub against you the way your own had. "How does it fit?" he asked as he carefully slid it over your heel and adjusted it until it was on completely.

The shoe was elegant, beautiful. Something you would only dream of buying - most of your clothes were from sales and take-bins of neighbors doing their yearly cleaning. These were --

"Wait - did you buy these?"

"I did. But I was unaware of your size. If these are not satisfactory, I purchased several others which may be more suitable for you," he explained and that's when you noticed the stack of boxes now exposed from the cloth bag. Two boxes were placed to the side, another still in it, while the last was open, the lid placed at an angle as if forgotten.

"You bought," you paused, disbelief pulling in your brows, "multiple pairs?"

"It seemed better to purchase multiple than to guess. Though I could have inquired from you directly," he trailed off as if the thought had only just crossed his mind.

But only one crossed yours, "Why?"

He looked up at you, still kneeling and preparing your other foot to accept your new shoes' partner, "I notice you. You would be unable to work in this state."

"Noticed me?"

"Yes. Besides, I couldn't rightfully ... never mind."

"What," you blurted, hanging on his every word.

He glanced at you and then looked back at your feet. There was a pause, a heavy pause in the air. "To see you in discomfort. It - It did not sit well with me."

You sat in silence as he ensured the shoes fit, as he laced them, and made sure they wouldn't irritate the bandage. You held your tongue and swallowed the pounding pressure in your chest when he lifted you from the chair and made sure you could stand before he let go.

You breathed him in while he stood before you.

"I will be at Angel's Share tonight. I can set aside some time for you, should you find yourself-"

"Okay," you blurted again, followed it up with an embarrassed sorry. It made him laugh, and you snatch the lurching urge to jump on him.

"Until then," he hummed, a smile tugging at his lips. "Do not rush in the meantime. I have already given my recommendations to the guild to allow you rest, though I do not imagine you'll heed it."

Diluc packed up the bag and bid you farewell, lingering his voice on the sound of your name, his eyes on your warm face. He slipped out of the room and left you in disbelief in a pair of beautiful crimson shoes.

--

Xiao

Why did you decide to wear these shoes?

You thought at least twenty times as you trudged down the path. As you hiked over the mountain passes that had seen better days in their time. A giant bolder blocked you a few paces back and you were still brushing yourself off from the unprepared scramble; you found a tear in your clothes and groaned.

For an adventurer, you got off pretty lucky. Only taking the low-priced requests. Ones left for running between towns, helping clear out someone's back room, or helping with a shipment. You weren't interested in the daring adventures that some in the guild would take, snatch up before you even had a chance to read the whole thing. And you certainly weren't about to follow in the footsteps of that strange traveler who - for a while - was accused of killing the Liyue Archon. (You still had your suspicions).

Nope, you were complacent, content with the simple jobs that helped you keep the lights on and splurge on the things that caught your eye. One of which was currently on your feet and digging into the skin uncomfortably. You hopped on one foot and shoved your finger inside the edge of the shoe in the hopes of stretching out the tight leather.

The top of the path crept over the horizon and you picked up the pace to reach it. You adored cresting the hill and seeing the harbor stretch across the bay, how the tall mountainside loomed above her - a watchful guardian, a shield and protector. You sighed and adjusted the pack on your back. The road into the harbor wasn't long, but it was steep, and you prepared yourself for a rough descent with your aching feet.

Every step slowed you down. Each one more uncomfortable than the last. You thought about taking off your shoes but didn't want to catch the disapproving glares that came from Liyue's citizens. So, you pushed forward.

A plume of green and black smoke enveloped you. You would have shouted but you were used to the sensation and how it obscured your view. Months ago you stumbled upon the smoke's owner in a field. He seemed injured so you went to check on him only to learn he was fine, and rather unappreciative of your concern - actually, he was irritatingly annoyed that you had distracted him from his lay-about.

"Hello, little Xia--woah!" Instead of appearing near you like he had before, you were suddenly floating in the green smoke. It whipped through your hair, tugged at your loose clothes, and bit at your skin. You felt like you were falling, and then you were - into the arms of the Adeptus who normally kept his respectful distance from you.

When your eyes adjusted to the return of light, you twisted to look at him, one arm draped over his shoulders as if he had placed it there.

"What are you-?" The words caught in your throat. Confusion, surprise, and bashful bewilderment tickled your cheeks and stole your ability to speak. Your face was inches from him. Closer than it ever had been before.

"You're injured," he spoke softly, matter-of-factly, his eyes drifting to your feet. You could already see the broken skin around your heel.

"It's nothing. Just my shoes," you explained as you stared at your own feet as if that explanation meant anything to him.

"Hold on," he said as he held you to him and the two of you disappeared into a puff of ethereal phthalo.

--

Xiao placed you on the small stool you had left out on the balcony the night before. He was careful to not let you crash into it. His strength - despite his size - was easy to sense as he eased you onto it and waited for you to settle.

"Thanks," you hummed, stealing a peek at his eyes. Eyes the shade of ginkgo trees in fall, eyes that held eons of history and centuries of sadness. Xiao didn't speak much, but his searching and timid eyes quenched your thirst for his voice.

He lifted your leg and you covered your mouth to avoid making a noise. Before you could ask him a question, he withdrew into his haze and was gone. You sat motionless for only a few seconds, and contemplated entering your house as you, in a daze, took off your shoes but when you rose to leave, Xiao reappeared holding a small container.

"For your injury. It's important to - take care of yourself," he mumbled the last part of his sentence as he held the container out to you. Averting eyes, open fingers unmoving, waiting for you to take it.

Your fingertips brushed his skin. "Did you get this for me?" He crossed his arms and didn't answer but his actions still made your chest warm and lips pull into a giddy smile.

"Don't dally," he scolded and threw you a sharp stare, "Or you'll be left with a scar."

"Oh right." You nodded and uncapped the container. The salve held a potent medicinal scent. "You don't have to stay," you added, a little sad at the thought of him leaving but recognizing that he didn't enjoy the sights and sounds of the city. His avoidance one of the many secrets locked in the amber of his soul.

"I'll wait."

You opened your mouth to protest but he turned his back to you, crossed his arms. Watched, observed. Protective.

"Thank you, Xiao," you whispered and chuckled at the grunt that floated toward you from the Adeptus statue standing near the corner of your balcony.

--