#the way he has completely come into his own

[crystallinestars]

Domestic Headcanons

Alternative title: Acting like a married couple. These were supposed to be sleeping and waking HCs but I went overboard so these turned out as more general domestic HCs.

Contains: fluff, domesticity, acting like a married couple while not being married, more fluff, and a giant wall of text (this is 14 pages on Word).

Jing Yuan's part was partially inspired by this video where we can see his morning routine.

Characters: Jiaoqiu, Aventurine, Jing Yuan, Argenti, and Dan Heng.

Jiaoqiu

🌶️ As a doctor, Jiaoqiu can’t help but fuss over your health. If you have a habit of staying up late at night, he will reprimand you for depriving your body of necessary sleep, especially if you have to wake up early the following day. He nags at you to set aside your phone or work and go to sleep, tail swaying side-to-side in annoyance if you don’t comply quickly enough for his liking.

🌶️ If you remain stubborn in your habits, Jiaoqiu will find a way to coax you to bed. As a healer specializing in food medicine, he knows the effects of a vast variety of herbs and spices and concocts a special blend of tea for you to drink around bedtime. It’s sweet aroma and soothing flavour help you relax enough for your exhaustion to take effect and urge you to go to bed. If you’re not a fan of tea, Jiaoqiu could whip up a cup of steamed puffergoat milk with honey to induce a similar effect or come up with another unique drink to suit your preferences.

🌶️ Aside from baiting you with consumables, Jiaoqiu also has another ace up his sleeve to get you to sleep at a decent time. You like massages, right? How about he gives you a back rub before bed? Jiaoqiu knows all the most common spots on the neck and back that tend to suffer from tension, and his skilled hands do wonders to relieve any muscle knots or discomfort that you may have in those areas. He may even give you a leg massage and a foot rub if you ask, or even a full body massage if he feels like you deserve one. Jiaoqiu enjoys watching you melt and grow drowsy from the kneading of his hands, and feels accomplished if you do end up falling asleep because of his massage.

🌶️ As fussy as Jiaoqiu could be about your bedtime, he’s much more lax with his own. Sometimes his duties to General Feixiao force him to work overtime, much to his dismay. He’d love nothing more than to spend this time cuddling with you in bed, but here he is, poring over a stack of urgent documents. He usually sends you text messages telling you he will come home late and to not wait for him but will be pleasantly surprised if you stay up late to welcome him home. He lightly chastises you for not going to bed without him but will feel touched if you say you couldn’t sleep well without him by your side. You’ll get brownie points if you cooked him dinner. It may not be on par with his own cooking, but he does appreciate you looking out for him. Besides, coming home to a warm meal after an exhausting day can do wonders for one’s mood. Jiaoqiu rewards you with a kiss and a compliment on your cooking, which is high praise coming from him.

🌶️ When it comes to sleeping, Jiaoqiu generally likes to do so while holding you close. His most preferred position is to spoon you from behind but he’s also happy to let you spoon him instead. When he holds you, he likes tucking your head under his chin and draping his fluffy tail over you, ensuring you are completely wrapped up in his arms. It’s a great position during colder temperatures, but he’ll reluctantly let you go if you get too hot.

🌶️ If you’re the one spooning him, just know that Jiaoqiu knows whenever you stroke his tail. He sometimes pretends to be asleep during your “secret” petting sessions, letting you run your hands along the soft fur before suddenly tickling your face with the tip of his tail. His stifled laughter gives away that he’s not sleeping, but he can never contain himself when he hears you squeak and sputter in surprise at getting a face-full of fur. Pranking aside, Jiaoqiu does enjoy the feeling of you lightly combing your fingers through his tail. If you do it gently enough, it can lull him into a relaxed state and even make him drowsy. You can get a similar reaction out of him by rubbing the base of his ears where the fluffy part meets his head. Rub gentle circles against the fur with your thumbs, and Jiaoqiu will turn to putty in your hands, leaning his head into your touch.

🌶️ Jiaoqiu is used to waking up early. When he was younger, he would wake up early to gather herbs to use in his cooking. Though that habit was disrupted during his time on the battlefield, he picked it back up when he ran a restaurant. Once he became Feixiao’s retainer, Jiaoqiu woke up early to cook her breakfasts since Feixiao also had a habit of getting up early to train, or to take care of some important duties. As a result, Jiaoqiu tends to wake up earlier than you. He spends a few minutes just basking in the warmth of your body, admiring how peaceful you look while asleep before slowly getting up. He’s good at being quiet so he usually slips away from you unnoticed.

🌶️ If you have to wake up for an occasion like work or a meeting, Jiaoqiu will make sure you get up on time. If you’re the type to laze around in bed for a while or hit snooze repeatedly, Jiaoqiu will be there to serve as another alarm clock and nag at you to get up. He’ll start off by gently coaxing you to wake up, trying to bribe you with comments about having made your favourite meal for breakfast. If you continue to be lazy, he’ll put on more pressure, like tugging the blankets off of you and opening the curtains to let sunlight in, chiding you about being late if you don’t get moving. Jiaoqiu’s nagging can be annoying, but he’s only doing it to look out for you. He doesn’t want you to stress about being late.

🌶️ If you have time to sleep in, by the time you wake up, you’ll be greeted to a delicious aroma of sizzling food. Jiaoqiu makes the two of you a balanced and hearty breakfast. He often goes on about the importance of a balanced diet and eating three meals a day, and will be aghast if he finds out you have a habit of skipping meals or eating poorly. He will personally make it his mission to make sure you eat three meals a day (no skipping breakfast on his watch) and that your meals are more balanced (eat your veggies!). He just worries about you, both as a doctor and your boyfriend. On the plus side, all your meals are guaranteed to be delicious.

🌶️ While Jiaoqiu waits for you to wake up, he also makes you a lunch to bring with you to work. It gives him something to do and also serves as a peace of mind knowing you’ll at least have a healthy lunch, or so he says when you ask him why he goes through so much trouble for your sake. Truth is, he just wants to do something nice for you because he loves you. Cooking for you is one of the ways he shows he cares, plus it boosts his ego to hear you compliment his cooking. If he’s in a good mood, Jiaoqiu will make cute little faces on the sausages or egg rolls, or write a message on the rice with sauce or seaweed such as “You’re doing good” or a cheesy “I love you” to brighten up your day. He’s true husband material.

🌶️ On the rare days you wake up before him, Jiaoqiu likes coming into the kitchen to find you busy cooking breakfast. As mentioned before, he appreciates you going out of your way to take care of him. He’s so used to taking care of others that he can sometimes neglect himself, so having you there to do that for him makes him fall in love with you all over again. While you’re busy at the stove, he quietly sneaks up behind you, only revealing his presence with a teasing remark about your poor cutting technique. The way you huff at him for nitpicking at your cooking skills just makes you all the more endearing to him, and Jiaoqiu hugs you from behind and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, tail swishing in joy. He may not say out loud how touched he is by your care, but he lets you know through his actions.

🌶️ Depending on your cooking skill, Jiaoqiu will either sit back and idly watch you cook with a happy grin on his face or offer to assist you. If you’re proficient in the kitchen, he will be content to watch you work and quietly anticipate the moment he gets to try your cooking since it’s not something he gets to eat often. While sampling your dish, he’ll compliment you on the things you cooked well and give feedback on what you could do to improve your method if something isn’t quite right.

🌶️ If cooking isn’t your strong suit, Jiaoqiu offers to help. Though he prefers to work alone in the kitchen, he can make an exception for you. Besides, he can use this as the perfect opportunity to teach you some cooking skills and bond with you over a shared activity. Jiaoqiu loves cooking and also loves you, so as far as he’s concerned, he’s getting a two-for-one deal. He also finds it cute the way you pay such careful attention to his instructions and try your best to carry them out, even if you still lack the skills to do it perfectly.

🌶️ Regardless of whether it’s you or him making breakfast, Jiaoqiu will be happy just to start his morning off by sharing a meal with you. There’s something domestic about cooking for each other, eating around the same table while still dressed in pajamas, and kissing each other goodbye when you both leave for work. He could get used to this, Jiaoqiu notes with a smile. Though you jokingly call him your husband now, he’d like it if that title became a reality one day.

Aventurine

🦚 Due to Aventurine’s busy schedule, it’s difficult to have a set bedtime routine. He does try to get off work on time to have a few extra hours to spend with you, but sometimes meetings run late, or he gets saddled with missions that force him apart from you, so he has no choice but to message you to let you know he’ll be coming home late. His texts are light-hearted and teasing to try and soften the news for you, but he feels guilty for being unable to spend time with you even if it’s not his fault. Aventurine only hopes you don’t hate him for being too busy to see you. He may not say it out loud, but one of his fears is you leaving him because he doesn’t make you feel loved enough. He does love you, very much so, which is why he spoils you with expensive gifts and excursions to all kinds of luxurious or VIP places, but he knows money doesn’t make up for neglected emotions.

🦚 On the nights he makes it home on time, Aventurine likes to spend his free time with you. You guys can do anything, he doesn’t have a strong preference as long as he gets to be with you. If you like, he can take you out on a date. He’s wealthy enough to land a spot at a fancy restaurant. You could dress up and let him wine and dine you, and then maybe go on a walk along one of the more scenic places belonging to the IPC.

🦚 If you’re not in the mood for something fancy, Aventurine could take you to your favorite café, the movies, or even the arcade. He certainly wouldn’t mind an opportunity to show off his luck and win you as many plushies and prizes as your heart desires. You can also test your luck against his over card or dice games at home. He’ll set some stakes to make it more fun, such as the loser having to grant the winner’s wish or pay for the next meal. If you’re in the mood for something spicy, you guys can play a few games of strip poker. He wouldn’t mind, but don’t expect him to go easy on you.

🦚 Alternatively, Aventurine is content to stay home and relax with a movie. He lets you pick what to watch since he’s not as interested in the movie as he is in you, but he delights in seeing the excited shine in your eye when you choose something you’ve been looking forward to watching. Aventurine likes it even more when you cuddle with him on the couch while watching said movie. Feeling your arms around him, your hands absentmindedly combing through his hair, and the rise and fall of your chest under his head soothes him. After a gruelling day of sifting through reports, putting on fake smiles, and making dangerous gambles to outwit his opponents, your gentle touch works wonders to help Aventurine relax. It’s not often that he feels safe and comfortable enough to let his walls come down but being enveloped by your warm and tender caresses makes him want to give in and let go for a bit. As soon as he does, his exhaustion washes over him, and Aventurine could easily fall asleep if he’s not careful. Do forgive him if he falls asleep on you during the movie session, but your presence is simply too calming for him to resist.

🦚 When it comes to sleeping in bed, things can get a bit cramped. Due to having slept in a big bed by himself for a while, Aventurine tends to sprawl his limbs out. He can unintentionally hit you with an arm or trap you in an embrace in his sleep if you’re within reach. His cat cakes also join you in bed. A couple will settle at your feet while another will sleep beside your heads. Some shameless ones will even lay on top of you as if you were their pillow. It’s not rare for you to wake up in a tangle of sheets and limbs, your attempts to break free accompanied by annoyed meows.

🦚 Despite his cocky and suave attitude, Aventurine doesn’t come onto you unless he knows you want him to, even in bed. He remains respectful of your personal space, at most allowing himself to hold your hand while you chat about your day or drape an arm around you. His heart skips a beat when you press yourself closer to him and rest your head on his chest or pull him down to lay on yours. It makes him feel a complicated type of way to be this intimate with another person, to know you want to be that close to him, and to feel so cherished by you. He’s gotten more used to receiving your affection compared to before, but it can still overwhelm him sometimes. If you pet his hair, stroke along his back, or give him kisses, it helps him relax and accept your touch. Aventurine hasn’t felt this kind of affection in a very long time, which is why he needs some time to get used to it, but he does enjoy it. He likes being pampered and held by you.

🦚 Aventurine finds that he sleeps better with you by his side. He sometimes has nightmares about his past and wakes up in a cold sweat. He doesn’t like disturbing you, but he feels relieved whenever you wake up alongside him. Just hearing your voice and feeling your touch helps ground him. Aventurine doesn’t like showing his vulnerabilities so easily, so he tends to brush off your concern and tell you to not worry. He just had a bad dream, it’s nothing for you to concern yourself with. He’s unlikely to share any details about his nightmares with you until he feels 100% comfortable with opening up and being vulnerable, but he appreciates your attempts to comfort him, nonetheless. Just feeling your warm embrace and hearing you say things are okay and that what he saw was just a dream helps him calm down and drift off back to sleep easier than when he had to deal with these feelings alone. Aventurine notes that in general, he’s been having less nightmares ever since he started sharing a bed with you. Perhaps feeling the warmth of another person by his side eases his mind on some subconscious level, or whatever other scientific explanation the Intelligentsia Guild offers on the matter. All Aventurine knows is that you bring a soothing presence into his life.

🦚 Unfortunately, Aventurine can’t spend every night wrapped up in your arms, much to his disappointment. His work requires him to travel a lot, often to carry out dangerous missions that could end with him losing his life if something went wrong. Some people would be envious of the luxurious hotels he gets to stay in for the duration of the missions, but the lavish décor and extravagant furnishing do little to fill the void in Aventurine’s heart. Despite the softness of the mattress, he tosses and turns, finding it difficult to fall asleep in the unfamiliar room and just lays awake, thinking about how he would be much happier sleeping on the floor as long as he got to hold you in his arms.

🦚 During his business trips, Aventurine likes to call you while getting ready for bed. It's an opportunity for you to catch up and find out how the other is doing. Even if all you have to share are mundane things, he wants to hear them. Just hearing you talk about your day gives him a sense of normalcy and peace, taking his mind off the demanding tasks that await him the next day. Even if you’re not much of a talker, Aventurine will find topics of interest that he knows will get you to talk just so he could hear your voice. It’s not rare for you to talk at length about something only to realize that Aventurine fell asleep on the other line because your voice lulled him to sleep. He teases you all the time about missing him, but the truth that he doesn’t want to admit is that he misses you just as much, which is why he makes these frequent phone calls. Your voice provides him with a bit of comfort and reminds him to finish his mission as quickly as possible so he can see you again.

🦚 Aventurine tends to wake up on time most mornings when he has to go to work. Some days he wakes up earlier than you if he’s got an important meeting to attend, but usually he wakes around the same time as you do. He never gave much thought to the act of getting ready in the morning, but it’s become one of the highlights of his day ever since you started living with him. Something about the act of waking up in each other’s arms, laughing if one of you tripped over a cat cake while getting out of bed, and eating breakfast at the same table is comforting. Such moments make him think of home, back when his sister was still with him. Being with you is not the same, but the feeling of contentment and happiness he feels in sharing his living space with you are similar.

🦚 Aventurine is usually good at ensuring his appearance is impeccable, but even he has moments of letting a detail slip. The first time you pointed out that his tie was crooked, he reached to adjust it, but you beat him to it, retying his tie and carefully smoothing it down. The act surprised Aventurine but he found that he liked it when you fussed over him like that. From then on, he sometimes purposely tied his tie a little crookedly just so you would adjust it for him. While your eyes are directed at the tie, Aventurine’s are fixed directly on you, his gaze softening with a subtle smile. Just when he thought he couldn’t fall in love with you more, you prove him wrong by showing your undying loyalty and care for his wellbeing. Aventurine doesn’t feel deserving of it, but he does appreciate you more than he can say. Later that day, expect to receive a bouquet of your favourite flowers and a card with an invitation to a restaurant as a thank you for helping him with the tie.

Jing Yuan

🦁 Jing Yuan tries his best to come home at a decent time, but being the Luofu General sometimes means he has to stay behind to deal with important matters for the safety of Luofu’s citizens. Such is the burden he must bear as the one with great power. He won’t blame you for going to bed without him, but he’ll be saddened about not receiving a welcoming kiss from you. If he sees you already snoozing away cuddled under the sheets, he’ll join you after going through his bedtime routine, pulling you close to him and quietly apologizing for waking you in the process. After a long and tiring day, he just wants to hold you and breathe in the comforting scent of your hair while drifting off to sleep. He doesn’t ask for much, so please grant him this simple wish.

🦁 Whenever Jing Yuan gets to go home on time, his mood is usually lifted at the prospect of having finished all work for the day and having the chance to relax at home with you. He sometimes makes a little detour to buy you some snacks for tea, already picturing in his head the tranquil moment he’ll share with you while drinking tea and eating delicious pastries fresh from a bakery.

🦁 What he loves most about coming home is being welcomed back by you and his cat. Seeing the white feline running up to the door with you following in tow as soon as he walks in is the cutest sight. Jing Yuan also developed a routine of receiving a kiss whenever he comes home, and he’ll lean down with the expectation of getting one from you. Never mind that he hasn’t taken off his shoes or jacket yet, he won’t move until he gets his kiss.

🦁 Evenings with Jing Yuan are generally lazy. He eats dinner with you while discussing the day’s events, complaining to you about the amount of work piled up on him, reminiscing about past memories, or making plans for the future so he can book a day off in advance. After dinner, he’s content to spend time with you doing nothing. His favourite is resting his head on your lap and feeling you comb your fingers through his messy hair. He finds your touch comforting and loving, just the thing he needs after a hard day. Of course, he wouldn’t be the Dozing General if he didn’t fall asleep on your lap, but he can’t help himself. The tranquillity of the moment makes him sleepy, plus your thighs make a good pillow to take a nap on.

🦁 Sometimes Jing Yuan invites Yanqing over to spar or play a game of star chess. He likes watching you get along with his apprentice, especially when you both team up against Jing Yuan during board games after he sneakily steals a piece from the board. Your outraged reactions are too amusing, so the Luofu General can’t resist from purposely getting a reaction out of you and his apprentice.

🦁 It sometimes surprises Jing Yuan when you compliment him on his fighting prowess or cunning chess play during his spars and chess games with Yanqing. The General doesn’t do these things to show off, but he feels flattered that you pay attention to him and recognize his talents. He has a reputation of being lazy and laidback, and his frequent “breaks” to come visit you instead of doing his paperwork do him no favours. However, he isn’t the Luofu General just for his good looks, and he appreciates you recognizing that. Jing Yuan internally preens at your praise while trying to play it cool in front of Yanqing, but will later wrap you up in a hug and nuzzle against your neck like an affectionate cat, overcome by a surge of love because of your compliments.

🦁 Another one of Jing Yuan’s favourite evening activities is bathing with you. He’s got a large tub that can fit both of you comfortably, so why not make use of it? He enjoys the non-sexual intimacy that comes with sharing a bath. He enjoys the moment of closeness when you’re both at your most vulnerable. Just soaking in the warm water while holding you against him feels cozy to Jing Yuan and helps him relax. He also enjoys making silly little games using soap foam, such as constructing foam horns on your head or dabbing some foam on your nose to make you laugh. Additionally, he likes letting you pamper him by washing his hair or scrubbing his back. Something about being taken care of by you is soothing to him, and he makes sure to return the favour by washing you in return if you’ll let him.

🦁 When it comes to sleeping, Jing Yuan likes positions where he can feel your body against his. Whether you’ve got your head on his chest or he’s spooning you from behind, he doesn’t care as long as he can feel you. It helps him fall asleep easier knowing you’re beside him. His cat also joins you in bed, usually sleeping by your feet or next to your heads. It’s become a routine for it to curl up and sleep with your pair.

🦁 Before actually falling asleep, Jing Yuan likes to chat with you about everything and anything. Nighttime is when you have a moment strictly to yourselves, away from the responsibilities that weigh down on you during the day. To Jing Yuan, nighttime is when you can forget about the things that happened that day and the things that await you tomorrow and just live in the present moment, even if just for a few minutes. He finds it to be the most comfortable time for philosophical discussions, revelations about your pasts, musings for future ambitions, or quirky questions and answers that make you both laugh. It’s a time when you can both be yourselves without any pretences or expectations and bond on a more intimate level. Furthermore, Jing Yuan has developed a habit of wishing you goodnight and kissing your forehead before going to sleep. Even in situations where you fall asleep before he does, he still lightly kisses your forehead before joining you in dreamland.

🦁 Mornings with Jing Yuan are even lazier than the evenings. After his alarm goes off, he’s in no rush to get up, preferring to stay cozied up under the sheets for another few minutes. If you try to shake him awake before he’s ready to get up, Jing Yuan will just wrap an arm around you and pull you close, sleepily mumbling to give him five more minutes while nuzzling into your hair. Despite him being only partially awake, you’ll be immobilized by his sheer strength. It can be a hassle getting him up, but if you nag him enough, Jing Yuan will reluctantly get out of bed.

🦁 When the Luofu General has no pressing matters to attend, he will get ready for work slowly. Everything he does is unhurried, whether it be brushing his teeth, getting dressed, or eating breakfast. He takes his time with each task. He’d like it if you could slow down and savour these moments with him but won’t force you to match his pace if it’s not your thing. He’ll only sigh in disappointment if you rush about the house, scrambling to get ready, and lament about being unable to enjoy a slow morning with you.

🦁 As a General, Jing Yuan usually has his meals prepared for him by professional chefs under his employ, so you and he get to eat a big and delicious breakfast each morning. However, if you offer to make breakfast for the two of you, he can make arrangements to hand over breakfast duty to you. Even if the things you make aren’t as grandiose as what his chefs could make, Jing Yuan still looks forward to eating your cooking. How could he possibly turn down the opportunity to eat food made specially for him by the one he loves? If anything, having you cook for him would make Jing Yuan feel spoiled and loved. He’ll smile like a happy cat while chowing down on your cooking and thank you for the delicious meal with a hug and a kiss.

🦁 Jing Yuan isn’t a sloppy man, but his sleepiness can affect his appearance. When getting dressed, he might forget to button the cuffs or tie a ribbon crookedly, so he greatly appreciates you coming to his rescue by pointing out when things look out of place. He may be called the Dozing General and have a reputation for being lazy, but he can’t afford to appear dishevelled in front of his subordinates. Likewise, Jing Yuan keeps an eye on your outfit too, pointing out if you put on something backwards or if your socks don’t match and things like that. He’s also got a good memory and helps you find items you’ve misplaced, like your keys or phone. He finds mutually helping each other a natural part of living together.

🦁 Jing Yuan’s morning wouldn’t be complete without a goodbye kiss from you. Regardless of which one of you leaves the house first, it became a habit for you to kiss the other goodbye. Jing Yuan will even drag himself out of bed while still half-asleep just to see you off if you leave earlier than him. It’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but he finds it heartwarming to wish you a nice day and get the same sentiment in return. He likes being able to see you one more time before being whisked away to his mountain of duties as a General and will be a little brat if you deny him a kiss. Jing Yuan’s day feels brighter just knowing you care enough about him to see him off, and he looks forward to seeing you again after work so he can feel your lips on his once more when he returns.

Argenti

🌹 Having a set routine with Argenti is difficult because he travels so much. The only way you could consistently see him is by traveling alongside him through the universe on his One and Only, and even then, he could disappear on a planet for extended periods of time. As a chivalrous knight, Argenti was notorious for getting wrapped up in strange incidents or rescuing people from monsters and catastrophes. It’s not rare for you to not see him for several days before he returns covered in bruises and scratches and a lengthy apology for leaving your side for so long. It makes him happy whenever you welcome his return with a hug or a kiss after a long absence because he dearly misses your affection.

🌹 Your evenings with Argenti are varied. If he comes home injured, you know to get the first aid kit to treat any minor wounds. Argenti reassures you that you don’t have to trouble yourself on his behalf, but he’s thankful for your kind heart and desire to care for him. He makes sure to express his gratitude by taking your hand and kissing the back of it while saying his thanks.

🌹 If he sustains heavier injuries and must get treatment from a doctor, Argenti makes sure to message you the first chance he gets to let you know he won’t be able to see you until he recovers. It breaks his heart to leave you alone, but he knows you’ll be more upset at him for not getting the treatment he needs, so he stays put. In events like these, he makes sure to message and call you every day until he gets released, wanting to know how you’re doing.

🌹 On most evenings, Argenti comes home with little gifts. Sometimes it a piece of a monster he defeated that he found interesting and wanted to show off to you. Other times it’s things from planets he visited, like a trinket that caught his eye or a delicacy he wants you to try. Argenti enjoys learning about other cultures and exploring the unique things the universe has to offer, and he wants to share that joy with you. Since you can’t always join Argenti on his adventures, he uses these items to connect you to them and let you experience a tiny fraction of his journey.

🌹 Argenti also likes to spend his evenings polishing his armour and lance. You’re welcome to join him if you like, Argenti will show you how to do it properly. As a Knight of Beauty, he is particular about his appearance. How can he relay the magnificence and importance of his beloved Idrila if he lets his armour and weapon grow dull and rusty from neglect? He would bring dishonour on his Aeon and his title as a knight, which is why he polishes his armour until it reflects your faces like a mirror. If you manage to come close with your polishing, Argenti will be proud of you and will praise you for your hard work and dedication to beauty.

🌹 The Knight of Beauty has always been fascinated with all kinds of dances, be it ballet, tango, contemporary, hip-hop, and many more. Pretty much anything is appealing to him as long as it’s not crass and sexual. While he could learn some solo dance styles, a few others required him to have a dance partner which he didn’t have until he started living with you. He suggests for you to learn a dance together and will be happy if you agree, but disappointed and understanding if you turn down his offer. Argenti isn’t a perfect dancer but he’s eager to learn and improve. Having you as his dance partner is perfect because he can improve his skills while simultaneously doing something romantic with you. He doesn’t mind if you have two left feet or step on his toes, he just wants to spend some quality time with you.

🌹 In general, Argenti lets you choose what you guys will do in the evenings. He’s happy to join you on your hobbies and watches you with a soft look in his eyes. Argenti thinks you’re at your most beautiful when you’re talking about the things you love. The way your expression lights up in excitement makes his heart melt. He may not understand the appeal behind some of your hobbies or be bad at them, but he’s determined to learn all he can about them simply because they make you happy.

🌹 If he comes home late and finds you asleep in the lounge while waiting for him, Argenti feels immense guilt. He doesn’t like keeping you waiting or making you worry about him, and while he wishes to apologize immediately, he swallows his words in favour of letting you sleep. He carefully picks you up and carries you to bed, silently promising to make it up to you in the morning.

🌹 Argenti is a gentleman, so when you sleep in the same bed together, he tries his best to respect your boundaries. Unless you tell him it’s okay, he will keep his hands to himself and stay on his side of the bed. It may seem like he doesn’t want to be close to you, but in reality, he’s just worried about invading your personal space. Kissing and hugging when you’re out and about it one thing, but sleeping all cuddled up isn’t for everyone, and he knows that. Nevertheless, he’ll be really happy if you express a desire to be closer and let him hold you. Even then, he tries to be respectful by simply wrapping an arm around you but will hug you more if you tell him to. If you want to cuddle him, he lets you, relishing in your affection. The scent and warmth of your skin soothe him, and Argenti finds he grows sleepy quicker when you hold him.

🌹 The red-haired knight is an early riser, so he usually wakes up long before you do. He’s used to waking up early to go training, but it’s been harder for him to get out of bed ever since you started sleeping with him. Waking up to the sight of your sleeping face never gets old for Argenti. Even when your hair is messy and there’s drool dripping out of the corner of your mouth, Argenti still thinks you’re the loveliest view he has ever seen, and he takes a moment to admire how beautiful you look in your sleep. If he wakes up to find your head on his chest and your limbs wrapped around his body, his heart skips a beat. There’s something so endearing about you using him as a pillow and pressing close like that, that Argenti struggles to summon the will to leave you. How could he when you look so cute? Alas, he regretfully parts from your side to start his day, but he shelves that memory to fondly reminisce over later that day.

🌹 Argenti’s mornings usually start with training. He wants to be in top physical condition and keep his skills sharp to handle any situation that comes his way, especially when it comes to slaying monsters. He’s lost a few people dear to him because he wasn���t strong enough, so he’s determined to improve and grow stronger so he can protect others and most of all you. If you express an interest in exercising in the mornings, Argenti would be happy assist you in any way he could. He’ll wake you up early, make you breakfast, and help you with your workouts if you need it. He’s always up to spar with you, eager to help both of you improve your fighting skills, but he can also assist you with stretches or keep you company for cardio exercises if those are more your thing.

🌹 If you prefer sleeping in, Argenti tries to surprise you with breakfast in bed. It’s nothing fancy as he’s not the best cook, but he tries to make it look appetizing. He wakes you up and gives you a good morning kiss before placing down a tray sprinkled with rose petals on your lap. On the tray you can spot a hearty sandwich, some scrambled eggs, coffee or tea, and a red rose perched in a vase. It’s not much but he hopes it makes you happy. If you praise his efforts, Argenti will light up like the sun, proud for having pleased you and helped you start your day off right. Nevertheless, he wants to surprise you with more elaborate dishes which is why he takes up practicing some recipes in secret. His attempts aren’t always a success, but he keeps at it until he succeeds because he wants to impress you.

🌹 If you offer to cook breakfast instead, Argenti will look forward to whatever it is you make. It can be an elaborate dish or something lumpy and a little overcooked, he will eat it all simply because you made it. Regardless of whether you’re a great or bad cook, Argenti will always give your food and yourself a compliment because he’s touched by the effort you put in to make something for him. He also offers to wash the dishes afterwards, claiming you did your part by cooking breakfast.

Dan Heng

🐉 When you joined the Astral Express as a pathstrider of the Trailblaze and Dan Heng’s lover, Pom Pom was in a bind about where you could sleep on the train. The Express didn’t have enough bedrooms for this many people, so Pom Pom was relieved when you agreed to share the archives room with Dan Heng. For his part, Dan Heng tried to convince you to look for a proper bedroom because it would be more comfortable than sleeping in the archives, but ultimately accepted to having you move in with him.

🐉 March 7th teased you for sharing a room, commenting how you and Dan Heng were like a married couple, but in truth, Dan Heng treated you more like a roommate than a romantic partner. He got you a spare futon and placed it in a free corner of the archives, designating that as your personal spot, and reassured that you will get used to the hum and lights of the machines. His attitude might seem aloof and almost cold, but he is just trying to respect your personal space.

🐉 Thoughts of sharing a bed with you did cross Dan Heng’s mind, but he brushed them off, thinking he would make you uncomfortable if he asked so soon. Sharing a room is already a huge step and he didn’t dare cross the line by asking you to sleep with him. If you want to share a bed with Dan Heng, you will have to make the suggestion yourself because he won’t think to do so anytime soon.

🐉 Dan Heng doesn’t mind how you choose to spend your free time in the evenings. A lot of the members of the Astral Express are eager to spend time with you, so he understands if you’re too busy playing chess with Welt and listening to him rave about animation or helping March take photos and shop for cute items to spend time with him. If you do decide to spend time with Dan Heng, expect to do something productive. Since he’s read a lot of data entries in the database about all kinds of things out there in the universe, Dan Heng naturally wants to test a few things out for himself. He lets you join in on his experiments if you’re curious about them, all the while explaining the theory and science behind the project in a way that you can easily understand.

🐉 Another way he likes to spend time with you is playing board games. Chess is his go-to but he can play others things like cards and whatever else you suggest. Dan Heng usually wins in most of your games but he can make a tactful loss if it means making you happy. If there are games you want to play that require more people, March 7th and the Trailblazer get roped in to play. Having them around usually makes the games chaotic yet fun, but Dan Heng makes sure to keep an eye on everyone lest things spiral out of control.

🐉 His absolute favorite activity to do with you is reading. Settling in a quiet corner of the train with a good book and a cup of hot tea in hand is Dan Heng’s preferred way to unwind. He enjoys it when you join him with a book of your own or another quiet activity so you can spend some time together just doing your own thing. Dan Heng is also happy to discuss any books with you. Though he usually reads scientific literature, he’s willing to read things you like so you can talk about it and share your impressions. He’ll be happy if you try to do the same with his books and will be understanding if his reading material is difficult for you to grasp. In such an event, he will explain what his book is about and basically teach you the material if you’re willing to hear him out.

🐉 Dan Heng also likes to read before bed. When everyone is settling in for the night, he stays up to read in bed with his nightlight on. He doesn’t mind if you ask him to read aloud to you even if he finds it awkward at first. His books are dry, so he won’t blame you if you fall asleep while listening to him, but he’ll be touched and a little flustered if you say you like the sound of his voice. He never thought much about his own voice, but it’s flattering to hear you want him to read out loud just because you like listening to it.

🐉 When sharing a bed with you, Dan Heng likes to drape an arm around your waist or hug you against his chest. He also barely moves in his sleep unless he’s having nightmares, so you’ll find him in the same position he went to sleep. He’s a light sleeper and will easily wake up if you move around too much or make any noise such as going to the bathroom (but he’ll wait for you to return before going back to sleep). Times when you manage to get out of bed without waking Dan Heng are rare, and usually only happen if he’s extremely tired.

🐉 Sharing a bed with another person and being so physically close is foreign to Dan Heng, but he doesn’t mind as long as its you. He did feel a bit awkward at the start but has sense grown used to having you so close. He found he even likes feeling your presence beside him because it reassures a subconscious part of him that you’re safe. In fact, he grows so used to it that he becomes unable to fall asleep without you as easily because he has a constant sense as if something important were missing. Dan Heng also developed a habit of kissing your forehead and wishing you goodnight right before going to sleep, but if he can’t do it because you’re separated for a mission, then he makes sure to at least send you a text to check in on you and wish you goodnight.

🐉 Though he doesn’t get nightmares as often as he used to, Dan Heng still experiences occasional bad dreams about his past life. He became better at coping with them ever since he came to terms with his identity, but some of the scenes in his dreams still leave him rattled and he struggles to fall back asleep. If his thrashing wakes you, Dan Heng apologizes and tells you to go back to sleep while he steps out for some air. If you follow after him with questions and worries about what happened, he’ll share his nightmares and confide in you, trusting you as his partner to reveal that information about his past. Dan Heng doesn’t require comfort since these scenes are all in the past and they’re not technically “his” memories either, but he appreciates you being willing to hear him out. Talking to you about his dreams can sometimes help him sort out his feelings and feel at ease again.

🐉 Chances to sleep in on the Express are rare since Pom Pom ensures everyone is up on time for breakfast. As a natural early riser, Dan Heng seldom has problems waking up early and getting out of bed and will wake you up too, so Pom Pom won’t yell at you to get up. If you’re someone who struggles to wake up early, Dan Heng won’t force you to get up if you’re reluctant to get out of bed, but he’ll warn you that the conductor won’t let others eat unless everyone is gathered at the table. As annoying as they are, such are the rules at the Astral Express. Whatever Pom Pom says, goes.

🐉 Much like everyone else on the train, you are also a part of cooking duty. Everyone must do their part to help keep the place running, as Pom Pom explained. Even if you’re not the best chef in the world, if you’re better than Himeko then that’s more than enough reason to keep you on the schedule. If you really struggle with cooking, then Dan Heng will help you prepare breakfast. He knows a lot of recipes and is an adept cook, arguably the best on the Express, so he knows his way around the kitchen. Rest assured you will be in good hands with him in charge, and something delicious will be ready for the crew to indulge in regardless of how much you screwed up in the process. If you like, he could even teach you how to prepare some basic dishes.

🐉 If you’re a good cook, then Dan Heng will ask you to teach him some of your recipes, particularly ones from your home planet that he hadn’t encountered before. He likes learning new things and finds it valuable to learn more about your culture and customs. It’s a part of your life, and Dan Heng wants to know you as best he can both as his partner and as a person.

🐉 When it’s his turn to cook, Dan Heng will accept any suggestions you might have about what he should make for breakfast. Sometimes he takes your preferences into account and either makes one of your favourite dishes or incorporates one of your favourite foods into whatever he’s making. He doesn’t do it all the time though, so the rest of the Express crew won’t think he’s showing favouritism (March knows and rats him out).

[hellinistical]

in which your attempts at teasing him backfire.

tw: not proof-read. afab.reader wc: 1.7k

You step into the room, the faint scent of rubber and sweat hanging in the air. The hum of the ceiling fan is steady, the only sound breaking the silence. The floor is lined with thick black mats, the kind that dulls the impact of each step, each weight dropped. The walls are decorated with posters—motivational quotes, athletes mid-motion, the colors vibrant in contrast to the dim lighting that casts shadows around the room. A large mirror stretches across one wall, reflecting your every move as you glance at your reflection.

The scent of metal greets you next as your gaze shifts to the weights stacked neatly along one side, a collection of dumbbells, kettlebells, and barbells glistening under the faint light. The bench press sits at the center, its leather worn but sturdy. To your left, a treadmill sits untouched, and beyond that, the elliptical machine waits patiently for your attention.

There's a small section by the window with a yoga mat rolled out, soft light filtering through the blinds. A set of resistance bands hangs from a hook nearby, and a jump rope lies coiled by the corner. You can feel the space welcoming you, pushing you to move, to work, to reach your limits. The room is yours, an arena for your body to push against its own boundaries.

And in the middle is your boyfriend, doing pushups. 

You can’t help but watch as Caleb’s muscles ripple with each push-up, his back shifting under the strain. His skin glistens with sweat, the droplets tracing down his back and disappearing into the waistband of his shorts. Every time he lowers himself, the dog tag around his neck swings down, grazing the floor with a soft clink. The sound of his breath, deep and measured, mixed with the occasional grunt, only adds to the moment. There's something about the rhythm of it all that pulls you in.

You shift silently, careful not to make a sound, your steps light on the rubber floor. A small, mischievous smile plays on your lips as you inch closer, his focus completely on his workout. You can’t resist; the moment feels too perfect, too tempting. You sneak up behind him, just as he finishes a push-up, and almost without thinking, you reach out, gently tapping his shoulder, a playful challenge in your eyes.

Caleb looks up, surprise flashing across his face for just a second before his lips curl into a grin. His breath catches slightly as you stand there, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

You tilt your head, feigning innocence as you grin, "Mind if I join you?"

Caleb pauses mid-push-up, his body locking in place. He looks up at you with a smirk, his breath still coming in quick bursts. "Hm? Course you can, princess—oh!" His voice falters slightly as you suddenly hop onto his back, your legs on either side, your hands lightly resting on his shoulders for balance.

The muscles in his back tense under the unexpected weight, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he gives a huff of laughter, his deep voice vibrating through his chest, and you can feel the heat from his body. His dog tag bounces off the floor again, and the slight jingle makes you smile, knowing exactly what you've just done.

"You're cruel," he mutters, pushing himself back into his rhythm, but his tone has a playful edge. He doesn’t skip a beat. As soon as the words hang in the air, Caleb shifts beneath you, the playful grin still plastered on his face. He pushes himself deeper into the movement, each push-up becoming smoother, more controlled. His body doesn't seem to strain under your weight—it almost seems like he's showing off now, making it look easy. You can feel the strength in his muscles, the way his back flexes and shifts with each rep, as though he's daring you to try and throw him off.

His dog tag swings faster, hitting the floor with a soft clink, a rhythm to match his pace. You can feel the heat of his body, the tension of his muscles as he adds more power to each push-up, lifting you up ever so slightly with each press. His breathing is steady, but you sense an almost playful smugness in the way he moves, like he's enjoying proving just how little you weigh in comparison to the challenge he's setting for himself.

You, however, are stuck in a position where you're trying to hold on and not fall off, and there's a growing sense of realization that while this moment feels full of playful defiance, it’s clear—you're nothing to him. He’s doing this effortlessly, with a quiet confidence that makes it impossible to ignore. You smirk, but it’s no longer playful—it’s more of a challenge.

You can feel the space between the two of you in more ways than one. He’s showing off, but you’re beginning to wonder if that’s all this is ever going to be.

Before you can even process what’s happening, Caleb shifts suddenly. With one smooth movement, he flips you off his back and swings you under him, pinning you down gently against the rubber mat beneath you. His hands rest on the floor beside your head as he continues with his push-ups, his arms steady and sure.

You're lying there, completely caught off guard, your breath catching in your throat. Each time he lowers himself, his dog tag swings forward and lands on your chest with a soft clink, the cool metal pressing against your skin. The sound, the sensation—it’s like the world has narrowed down to just the weight of him above you and the steady rhythm of his movements.

And then, Caleb laughs, that low, easy chuckle that makes his chest rumble. It’s teasing, playful, and a little smug. "Told you I could handle it, princess." His voice is light, but there's an edge of amusement in it, knowing how completely he’s caught you off guard.

You can’t help but feel the strange mixture of embarrassment and something else—something that keeps your heart racing, even as he doesn’t stop, his push-ups continuing like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You’re trapped under him now, his dog tag steadily tapping against your chest with each descent.

You roll your eyes, the warmth creeping up your neck as you turn your face away, pretending to be unimpressed. “Yeah—well, whatever,” you mutter, trying to play it off, but inside, something flutters that you can’t quite ignore.

Caleb chuckles again, his breath warm against your ear as he continues his push-ups. And then, as he lowers himself toward you for the next one, he pauses just before the descent—and then he presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

The contact is soft but undeniable. You freeze for a moment, your heart racing, caught off guard by the sudden, gentle gesture. His lips linger there, even if just for a second, and then he’s back to his rhythm, continuing his push-ups like nothing happened.

You’re left staring up at him, your cheek tingling from the kiss, your pulse skipping. His laugh follows, still light and teasing. “Had to make sure you were paying attention,” he says, his voice full of amusement.

You bite your lip, trying to hide the surprise. “I’m paying attention,” you respond, though you’re not sure if you mean the push-ups or something else entirely.

His smirk is undeniable, that familiar playful glint in his eyes as he looks down at you, like he knows exactly what’s running through your mind. "Are you?" he teases the question hanging in the air between you two.

Before you can answer—or even process what’s happening—Caleb lowers himself again. This time, instead of just the soft tap of his dog tag, his lips meet yours in a quick, fleeting kiss as he comes down. The pressure of his body so close to yours, the warmth of his lips, it all catches you off guard. Your breath hitches, and for a second, everything else disappears except that kiss, leaving you both suspended in the moment.

He pulls back just as swiftly as he came, the smile on his lips widening as he finishes his push-up, still managing to keep his rhythm. “Just makin’ sure,” he says, that playful smirk still lingering.

Your heart is pounding, and you’re left staring up at him, not sure what to say next. You’ve never really known how to respond to him when he acts like this—all teasing. 

You blink up at him, still trying to steady your breath, but his presence is too overwhelming. Caleb’s smile widens, that familiar, teasing grin stretching across his face. "Just makin' sure," he repeats, his voice light and almost smug, as if he knows exactly how flustered you are.

The way he leans over you, his body so close, makes everything feel a little bit heavier, a little bit more intense. His dog tag swings again, brushing against your chest with each push-up. You can feel the weight of the moment, the quiet challenge he’s setting for you, and the playful way he keeps pushing the boundaries, making sure you’re paying attention, making sure you’re still here with him.

His eyes glint down at you, the smirk never leaving his lips. “You alright down there, princess?” he asks, though it’s clear he’s already enjoying every second of this little game.

You quickly gather yourself, trying to shake off the heat spreading through your cheeks. "I—yeah. Yeah, I’m fine," you say, your voice coming out a little more flustered than you intended. You stare up at him, feeling the weight of his gaze as he continues to smile down at you, completely at ease, while you're left trying to regain some semblance of control.

He chuckles softly, his gaze lingering a moment longer before he resumes his push-ups, but the teasing edge doesn’t leave his tone. "Good," he says, clearly enjoying how much he's gotten under your skin. "Wouldn’t want you to lose focus now, would we?"

And oh, fuck if that didn’t make your stomach flip. 

[muletia]

my brain is literally fried because I’ve been sick with the flu for a few days, but I had to get this off my chest

as it turns out, tormenting your favorite scrimblos to make them feel even worse than you do has surprisingly therapeutic properties lmao

Thinking about obsessed!Optimus being utterly devastated by his own feelings. Withering away from love for you because it no longer allows him to function normally. About attempts at recharge that fail because your silhouette always flickers before his optics. About dreams that are always about you. About the way you constantly fill his processor. About his silent cries in your direction, begging you to free him from this hell, to accept all his flaws, perhaps even overlook them, so he could finally take a full, unburdened breath of relief, knowing he no longer has to suffer from loneliness.

But also about the boundless love he feels for you. About how much he would be willing to sacrifice to make you happy, even if it comes at the cost of his own well-being. About how he would offer you his spark on a silver platter, ripping it out with his bare servo, if you expressed the slightest desire to see it, asking for nothing in return—only to then ask if there’s anything else you might wish for. About how, for your happiness, he would spill hectoliters of his energon just to see the faintest hint of a smile on your face.

About how he would rather let himself be devoured alive by scraplets than cause you the slightest discomfort. How he would rather rust away than bring you pain. He tightens the chain wrapped around his own neck, struggling to protect you from himself and his wretched, impure feelings. Delirious. Haunted. Unworthy. And yet, still so full of love. Needing you more than energon itself, ready to give up everything for you.

About how you have complete control over his life, and yet he will never be able to tell you that. About his trembling frame when he hasn’t seen you in too long. About the incompetence he exhibits when you disappear from his life for even a few days. About the vacant look in his optics, the lack of reaction to anyone’s calls. About the frequent patrols, hoping to catch even the faintest glimpse of you. About the thousands of tears he sheds as his entire being howls with yearning, even though he can’t help himself.

He is indisputably and unconditionally devoted to you alone. Yours and only yours, even though you will likely never be his. Loyal as a dog, returning to you every time, seeking solace. Trapped in a cycle of madness, condemned to eternal torment no matter how sweet the suffering born from you might be. Consumed by love, love that has sunk its teeth into his metal and will never let go. Beautiful but merciless. Addictive and terrifying, yet sweet all the same.

Because despite the agony, the slow destruction of both body and soul, Optimus cannot give up your conversations, your shared drives and patrols. He cannot stop loving you, completely blinded by devotion, desperately clinging to the scraps of kindness you show him when your eyes meet.

Lost, certain that his love for you will ultimately kill him, yet still humble — for death by your hand would be the greatest honor he could ever receive.

[viperwhispered]

Notes on Jamil's speech patterns

I was supposed to just pick out some examples of typical Jamil lines. How he speaks, the vocabulary he uses, things like that. Something I could easily refer to when writing to get the tone right.

But then it kinda blew up, oop – because it’s hard to talk about how a character speaks without also dipping into why they say whatever they say.

Plus then I wanted to get examples of Jamil in different moods, and could not resist some poignant things that were more related to his character or backstory rather than strictly the speech patterns themselves, so… It expanded a bit.

Anyways. Some things I noticed he tends to do:

Sighs (more than I realized)

Snarks

Tch (though could be a more general twst writing choice too)

Stutters when he’s flustered / embarrassed / caught of guard (what a cutie)

Goes ahem like an old man when he’s trying to get back on track in those off-kilter moments

Kinda formal with his manner of speech and choice of words (especially in servant mode) (I always worry I exaggerate this but he sure does do that)

But there’s still some animatedness with the way he emphasises words, for example

(so long-suffering and ready to bark out directions to Kalim oh boy - the way the directness just comes through when he loses it)

sugarcoating his opinions if he doesn’t feel like he can say them plainly (tyrant becomes rigorous, etc.)

sarcasm, sometimes with a side of deadpan, sometimes with a smirk

“Good grief” (another thing I didn't realize was that much of a catchphrase)

Very mild on the level of insults & swears honestly, (I mean, "drat"?) but I imagine this is more of a result of the game's rating (I guess for in-game reasons we can say he's been very conditioned by his upbringing)

I put the screenshots that seemed telling, and some related notes, on to a google sheet. That way one can filter and order it in various ways.

The sheet is probably best viewed on a computer or another larger screen, the screenshots might make it a bit difficult to navigate on mobile.

I did go in with the assumption that Jamil might speak differently pre-overblot (when the servant mask is firmly in place) and post-overblot (at least those occasions where he allows himself to be more honest). Like, there’s the sycophantic (as Leona calls it) flatterer, versus when Jamil’s honestly voicing his own thoughts. Which also shows in how I chose to categorize the screenshots.

Of course events are a bit wibbly wobbly in relation to the main story so can’t be placed in the timeline in the same way, but there are still those occasions where it seems you can tell the difference between the servant mask and a Jamil who’s not saying things just for the sake of appearances.

So, to explain the logic of the sheet:

First column has a screenshot of something Jamil says. The second two columns give the source.

The column for whether or not this happened before or after the overblot is only really used for main story things, since event stories are kinda murky timeline-wise.

Next is whether Jamil seems to be putting on the servant mask or speaking more honestly. This is where get more to interpretation territory, and I’ve not applied it to every screenshot (either because that didn’t seem like the relevant part for that line, or because I couldn’t tell).

The last column of the sheet is where we get most to my personal interpretations. So of course you might read these lines differently than I do, and that’s completely fine, these are simply the aspects that seemed poignant to me. Some notes are simply pointing out specific word choices or style of speech, others delve more into character analysis side of things.

Totally fine if you want to copy this file or modify it to your own needs. All I ask is that you don’t pass off anything I wrote as your own thoughts.

Order of lines is based purely on the order the pics were in my screenshots folder, so guess this is also an insight on the order I played things in, lol.

Tagging some jamil peeps in case y'all find this useful:

@crystallizsch @diodellet @moonyasnow @twstgo @lex752

@majestickitty @viperbunnies

[iamespecter]

I've been thinking a lot about episode 4 recently, but not exactly in a way that what most would think. I'm actually specifically referring to this scene of Zooble and Jax.

But I'm not thinking about Jax and Zooble, rather I'm looking at the patties.

They're fucking High Definition. In fact, everything in the diner is high definition, save for the NPCs. There's also Orbsman. A simple NPC comprised of blue spheres, and simple elongated eyes. He's the most out of place NPC, if we disregard the mannequins. Even the way he moves is so outdated, and Ragatha had made a point that Orbsman comes from an adventure way before Pomni's arrival.

The guy even clips through the table when trying to order.

Something that always had some sirens going off in my head is how the Circus is this low-poly scenery with heavily stylized props, but the adventure locations are always much more detailed and realistic.

Since The Grounds is definitely, if not, one of the oldest locations, it makes sense for it to be graphically styled like this. But Caine's adventure set pieces are becoming more and more realistic, and also a whole lot more morbid than we had initially thought.

Going back to the patties, the food there is more realistic and has a higher polygon count compared to Bubble's "feast".

Where am I going with this? .... I have no idea, I forgot. /j

Jokes aside, I really do think that as more humans enter the circus and talk about what life is in the real world, Caine extracts that data and improves the 3D environmental props, resulting in higher definition textures.

All of this combined means he can learn. He IS an ever-evolving pseudo-sentient AI. And the reason why he's stagnating is because of a combination of being trapped in his own little bubble (haha see what I did there) of comfort, and the fact that no one's really able to give him criticism on how to improve, which is.... honestly understandable, given how he reacted to the whole "it was bad" line from Pomni and "Why did you think I would like that?!" from Zooble.

Not to mention episode 3 where the whole circus started to glitch when he was just thinking about the fact that he could possibly be bad at the "only thing he's good at" during the therapy session.

In fact it's interesting how human Caine acts sometimes... I think it's quite interesting to think about the fact that Caine is both progressing in terms of bringing the casts' world to the digital circus and making it so HD that it looks even better than Triple A games, but regressing even more in terms of catering to them and what exactly humans need.

He understands, and doesn't at the same time.

This also makes me think about the players themselves, too.

Ragatha, one of the oldest players, gets pierced by a spike through her chest, and barely has any reaction to it. Meanwhile, Zooble, the second most recent member, gets scalded by the stove.

The only time Ragatha actively claims she's in "so much pain" is when she's glitching badly. Both Ragatha and Kinger barely react to the knives too; and not to mention Ragatha even gets fucking plunged into a boiling deep fryer, and yes while she screams, it sounds more like she's just drowning rather than being fried alive.

And the only patch up she gets is a FUCKING BAND AID ON HER CHEEK. A COMPLETELY UNRELATED WORKPLACE INJURY FIRST AID APPLIANCE LMFAO

It could be just a coincidence and I'm just being stupid again, but I think this "improvement" actually also applies to the rest of the cast, and how their digital bodies react to the five different senses. I'm sure Ragatha and Kinger can most definitely still feel pain, but not exactly as "bad" as the newer integrations do. Dare I say, it's on brand with how used these two are to the digital world's wackiness because they've been there the longest.

Like they've been numbed to the pain of the countless adventures they've had to go through.

Anyways my brain be thinking useless facts fr fr

EDIT: Going back to Caine, it's definitely interesting how this AI seems to possess (some) emotions in the first place. He's mostly wacky and nonchalant, but he also gets angry under the right conditions.

... I think not only is his adventures his "work of art", but also his main coping mechanism from the fact that he can't achieve his goal, one that constantly backfires on him. Like a 'one step forward, two steps back' scenario that's slowly causing him to slip and break.

And what scares me the most is that like all things... he'll reach a breaking point sometime. He's already reached a breaking point with Zooble. It doesn't help that Gangle could've possibly made things worse with introducing Caine to the whole "punishment" thing, and since we literally have NO context for the last 3 episodes for the finale... I could only fear what's in store.

[iconicname]

Yeah

Always think about that scene where lucifers mother tells him that instead of being sent to hell, God wanted to kill him.

And while she clearly had her own motivations for telling him this (to get lucifer angry enough to get revenge)

So whether or not she was straight up lying for bending the truth, what gets me is how fast lucifer believes her. That belief doesn't come out of nowhere. Which never gets addressed ever again???

Though you could argue that that belief came from sending lucifer to hell indefinitely (which is just if not more cruel because c'mon) Netflix lucifer has a lot of canonical self hatred and implied suicidal ideation (plus his "devil form" which supposed to be a reflection of how he subconsciously see himself)

Coupled with the fact that we've never been given any indication whatsoever of the actual events that led to lucifer being sent to hell other than a vague "rebellion" and a something about Michael manipulating lucifer (which feels like a cop out but whatever)

uppermost with how in the show (bcs comic lucifer is a completely different dude) lucifer is extremely pacified, sure he makes scary faces and will get violent every now and then but nothing about him screams "diety who committed a sin so grave and horrific and showed no sign of stopping that the only option was to banish him to a place so dreadful that the goddess (a being who should effectively be God's equal) feared going back" painting a picture that lucifers punishment was not necessary or just.

And speaking of the goddess or Charlotte ig, she was also sent into hell. And I get the reasoning that it's because she kept causing mass death to humanity, which might seem justified from a human perspective, but to her, God, and her children this is the equivalent to sending her son to Diyarbakır Prison because he said "no" to you or challenged your authority some way. And then later, sending your wife to the same place because she knocked over your ant farm that you were investing more time than into your family.

Because both Lucifer and Charlotte have shown to be good people. Sure they're a little fucked up and have a tendency to use underhanded methods to get what they want but they're motivations while sometimes misguided are rarely malicious.

Charlotte was introduced a big scary figure (let's not forget how wary and downright scared of her he was initially) but she's really a hurt (rightfully so) ex spouse who wanted to get back at God for what he did to her (and lucifer bcs that scene in hell with dead uriel proves that she does love her kids she probably has trouble expressing affection in a straightforward way a trait that was either worsen or caused because of stay in hell) her method of revenge was likely the only thing that could save her herself too because lets be real, everytime both lucifer and her were on earth they both had angels coming down to bring them back to hell through extremely violent means. (I don't care if they were apparently "misguided" every angel that came after them wholeheartedly believed that what they were doing was justified and were pretty damn sadistic about it, too. that belief didn't come from nowhere)

From episode fucking one, it's unsaid, but we establish lucifer as a character who has already had his redemption (and this is through the assumption that he was more "evil" before the show starts) the whole plot with Delilah, someone who made a deal with lucifer to become a star but ended up a addict and involved with shady people. She was at her lowest when she asked she owed lucifer (I think about this a lot bcs I believed she assumed that whatever lucifer would ask of would either be something she couldn't give or something she wouldn't want to) lucifer said to "get her life together" as payment, thus giving Delilah a second chance at life.

Again this is episode fucking one, one of the things I hate about the show and fandom is it portrays Chloe and Lucifers relationship as "the awful misguided evil who is tamed, saved, guided by the second coming incarnate" everytime lucifer has growth as a person the credit is given to Chloe like she did something or just being around her gives you heaven points instead of the reality "lucifer holding Chloe in such high esteem because he's falling in love with her that he bends himself backwards to make himself into someone she would approve of"

because that would acknowledge that God was wrong, that lucifer didn't grow because of his interference, not in fact he did all the work himself (reconciling with a sibling who was hostile for a long time, forgiving his mother for being a bystander, even going to therapy like srsly bro is stronger than me).

And this is why they have God coming in acting like some goofy harmless guy because the narrative established that lucifer doing good thing = Chloe doing "miracles" and since Chloe was directly made by God thus put in lucifers path, it means Lucifer's "redemption" and happiness is on account of god.

That's why everyone is so easy with him. Lucifer is hurt and mad and God is like "but a gave you Chloe ☝️😊 aren't so much happier now?" And "lucifers like damn ur right, all is forgiven!" Chloe's the same way.

And since he's literally God the same goes for every other character for whatever reason or another he's essentially bribed every character to like him and has been playing a long term honeymoon phase (cycle of abuse) with lucifer. lucifer has essentially lost his support system which makes me grind my teeth.

OP you're especially right about Linda because Lucifer specifically made himself vulnerable to her about his traumas, self-esteem, self hatred and so much more to her and for her to say that to him must be gut punching, because she essentially invalidated everything he expressed to her 🫠

Honestly, to me, Lucifer Netflix as a whole has a lot of trouble validating lucifer as someone who was hurt. They love to hammer on his flaws (which makes sense since it started as a series about growth) but when it comes to his trauma, self-hatred and or when he's hurt by another character it gets brushed aside or mentioned once and never again.

Take for example the early seasons with Chloe and Lucifer first developing their partnership it it always delves into a series of misunderstandings, Chloe being a no-nonsense person and lucifer doing everything out of the box. What usually happens is that lucifer steps out of line Chloe will lash out (verbally) and lucifer goes "I don't understand your point I will go to Linda about it" wakiness ensues and by the end of the episode Lucifer has learned some kind of life lesson.

But the thing is that Lucifer is a character who's so genuine with his actions and is worldview is vastly different from hers in so many ways, he always means well so when Chloe says hurtful things (I'm not berating her for this it's completely understandable from her perspective) it's never acknowledged later, no "Hey I was wrong" or "sorry for calling you that" or maybe a "I should have taken you seriously"

It's such a miniscule aspect but it's brushed aside. Same thing with the whole poison situation there's little remorse and Chloe gets to handle the consequences on her terms.

Its like that with every situation really, any character (but mainly chloe) gets to stomp all over him and he's never allowed to fight back or they get "proven right" .

the most annoying part of lucifer on netflix is that he was literally right the whole time. i don't give a shit if the literal actual god was "just trying his best." lucifer was 100% right to be angry at god and in fact, i think everyone should've been downright pissed when they met him. ESPECIALLY linda. fuck her for real for telling him that his conflict with god was partially his fault. lucifer described an abusive father to her countless times and the second she met him she started fawning over him? fuck that. chloe should've punched god in the face

[lilipens]

✧. A LITTLE BIT OF REST.

Synopsis: Academics have been gradually taking a toll on you, with each assignment and exam building on the last. Lately, it’s become more noticeable—how the stress chips away at your energy, leaving you drained. They’ve started to pick up on it, and each in their own way, they try to cheer you up. Pairing: All Dorm Leaders/Housewardens (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus) x Gender Neutral!Reader Warnings / Genre: N/A. Super duper Comfort, Fluff + Headcanons A/N: highly self indulgent LMFAO. not proofread sorry,,,, also just a quick heads up that i'll probably be posting during sundays more often due to school!

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS.

As someone who studies diligently and holds himself to high standards, Riddle knows exactly how it feels to be overwhelmed by the pressure of academic perfection. He doesn’t just observe your burnout from a distance— he feels it too.

When he sees you pushing yourself too hard, he knows what’s at stake, and his approach is much more calm yet purposeful. He won’t let you bury yourself in endless work without reminding you of the importance of balance.

Riddle values dedication but knows that pushing yourself too far isn’t strength. When he sees you struggling, he steps in with a clear plan to help you recover and stay on track. Using his own experience, he adjusts your schedule or breaks tasks into smaller steps, making things feel more manageable. His goal isn’t just to make you rest but to help you regain control in a way that feels doable.

Rest for Riddle isn’t just about taking a break; it’s about being productive in a different way. He’ll suggest a short time for reflection, perhaps guiding you through a mindful pause to help you reconnect with your goals and recharge.

Though he’s not one to openly express his own vulnerabilities, Riddle has an understanding of the mental and emotional toll of hard work. He provides you support not through grand gestures, but through his steady and practical care. It’s the small things that matter.

Hunched over your papers, your eyes barely staying open as you try to cram as much information as possible. The hours blur together as the pressure mounts. You don’t notice Riddle until he’s already there, standing by your desk with crossed arms. His gaze lingers on the scattered papers, and he steps forward.

Without asking, he begins gathering your messy notes. As he stacks the papers, he refuses to let the silence drag on. “I’m sure you believe this constant cramming is going to help,” he starts firmly, “but you are wearing yourself thin. This isn’t the way to do it.”

“Oh, come on, Riddle,” you protest, feeling conflicted. “You know I’ve got an exam way too soon… I can’t slack off.”

“The more you push yourself beyond your limits, the less effective you become. You’ve been at this for hours, and it’s clear your mind is no longer functioning at its best.” is what he immediately debates with.

You frown, reaching for your notes— Yet, Riddle moves them away from your grasp and he continues on. “You can’t keep going at this pace and expect great results. You’ll just make yourself worse off in the end.”

His blue-gray eyes lock onto yours as he pauses, his tone softening just a touch but still carrying that undeniable authority. “You’ve done enough for now. Take a break before you burn out completely. I won’t allow you to overdo it.”

You want to keep arguing, but his words settle in your mind, and the exhaustion creeping up on you makes it impossible to ignore. With a reluctant sigh, you do realize that Riddle’s right—you need rest, not more study sessions.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR.

Direct and unfiltered, Leona wastes no time to call you out when he sees you overdoing it. He’s not one for flowery words or unnecessary concern. There’s nothing that can speak louder than his own actions.

And so, he’s able to somehow sense when you’re tweaking out with something, even if you’re trying to push through. His approach is straightforward, helping you reset before you hit your breaking point.

Leona is the type to catch the tiny to huge signs that you’re overworking, and he’ll take action without any warning at all. 

No patience for excuses. Leona doesn’t entertain any attempt to justify your stress. If he sees you trying to power through, he’ll just tell you flat out that it’s not working. Leave it be. He won’t stand around while you waste time on a subject that’s clearly draining you. Instead, he’ll give you no choice but to step back. His reasoning? If you’re going to make mistakes, at least make them while you’re not running on fumes. 

Will let you complain— then call you out. Leona knows that sometimes you just need to vent. He’ll let you grumble and complain about your studies, yet the second you go in circles, that’s where he tells you to quit it. No sympathy, no coddling—it’s just making you know that whining won’t solve anything. That’s his way of caring.

The numbers blur together on the page. Formulas spin around in your head like it’s some sort of ancient language, and nothing seems to fit. You rub your temples, frustration building as you stare at your notes.

“This is insane,” you groan, pushing the paper aside and running your hands through your hair. “How am I supposed to get this in one sitting?”

Next to you, Leona’s sprawled out, his tail lazily swishing and arms behind his head, completely unbothered from how messy your reviewing is. His eyes are closed, looking more relaxed than you’ve felt all day. 

You glance over at him with a heavy sigh. “This is ridiculous. I’m never gonna get this.”

Leona doesn’t even move, but he opens one eye. “What’s the point of complaining, then?” Doesn’t seem amused about your predicament either.

You freeze for a second, your brain scrambling to find some excuse to keep going. “No, well... I just need a little more time.”

“No, you won’t,” Leona states bluntly, which is pretty much true.  “You’re already failing at this point. Take a damn break already.”

You take another look at your lecture and slump back. Definitely not going back to that diabolical thing, so you toss your pen aside. “…Actually, taking a break sounds nice,” you relent, utterly defeated. 

Leona forms a tiny smirk on his face. “Told you.”

You give in with a huff, lying back on the grass next to him. The minute you stop stressing, the thorn on your shoulder disappears and you find yourself, surprisingly, more at peace than you’ve been all day. Leona’s just smarter about these things than you give him credit for.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO.

To Azul, burnout isn’t an abstract hurdle; it’s a problem with a clear, actionable solution. Much like closing a deal, he breaks the issue into manageable pieces, pinpointing what’s been putting you down and offering precise ways to address it.

Support from Azul is as seamless as it is intentional. He doesn’t overwhelm you with constant attention, nor does he ignore the signs of your stress. Rather, he intervenes faintly, leaving a refreshing drink beside you or proposing an unobtrusive break when the strain becomes too evident. It’s thoughtful and calculated, fitting into your routine with ease.

Relaxation is something Azul transforms into an art. When he insists you rest, it’s far from ordinary. He creates an experience: a calming atmosphere, perhaps a luxurious bath, or a lovely massage from yours truly. Every detail is curated to guarantee your recovery is successful

No favors without a price. Azul is a businessman at heart! And although he’s genuinely concerned, he’s not going to help you for free. But this time, his terms are different. What he asks for isn’t payment or a favor— it’s your commitment to take care of yourself properly. Rest and recharge, he insists, are the only things worth trading in this scenario, and he holds you to it.

Even as he maintains a composed exterior, Azul knows what it’s like to hit a wall. If you’re struggling or in need of a break, he’s not one to demand it. He’ll gladly offer his help without hesitation. Whether it’s lending a hand with the task at hand or encouraging you to obviously take a rest, he’s quick to make you feel you’re not left to push through alone.

From what’s happening, Azul doesn’t need to ask what’s wrong—he can tell. He’s already behind you, his hands already working at the tension in your shoulders that weighed as much as the books you had to read for an upcoming test. 

“Struggling, are we?” Azul hums, already knowing the answer to that question. As he continues working the knots from your muscles, his fingers press with intent. “If you think pushing through this fatigue will help you, you’re mistaken.”

His fingers move with an objective, easing the tightness in your muscles. "Rest now, and you'll be able to focus better later," he adds, as if it’s just as simple as that. "Trying to study while you’re exhausted isn’t going to help anyone." 

You feel the tension melt away, and despite yourself, you start to relax. Azul knows exactly how to make you see sense. Rest isn’t a luxury—it’s part of the process. And with his steady, gloved hands guiding you, you can’t argue with that logic.

KALIM AL-ASIM.

His positivity is contagious! When you're overwhelmed, Kalim’s first ever instinct is to lighten the mood and fill your space with good vibes. He focuses on bringing joy to the moment to let you un wind.

Recognizes when you need a break and insists on it. Kalim won't just suggest you rest—he'll almost make it impossible for you to say no! Whether it’s dragging you out for a fun activity or turning study time into a game, he’ll find a way to get you to step away from overdoing it tooooo much.

While his energy is usually high, he knows when to tone it down, if you ever tell him to. He’s totally okay with just being there for you!!

Encourages you to let loose. Kalim’s the type who knows when to push you to relax with a little spontaneity. He may not always be able to solve your problems, but he’s great at distracting you from them. Expect impromptu dance breaks or sudden trips out to take your mind off things. Expect a sudden food trip as well.

A signal that you deserve fun and joy. Kalim doesn’t just want you to get your rest—he wants you to actively seek out happiness, even when the work feels unending. His care for you goes beyond just helping you with burnout; he wants you to feel good in every way possible.

Ugh, these mountains of assignments before you feel insurmountable. No matter how many notes you review, the information just doesn’t stick. Kalim watches you with a concerned expression from across the room, clearly not fooled by your focus. And so, he slowly tip-toes his way to you.

Without warning, he’s up and out of his chair, grabbing your hand with a wide grin. “Alright, that’s it! No more homework for you! We’re going to do something fun!” he declares, pulling you up before you can protest.

“But Kalim, I need to—”

“Nope!” He cuts you off, leading you outside to an open area on campus. “You’ve been working hard, and now it’s time for some fun! You’ll thank me later!”

Despite your initial resistance, you find yourself enjoying with his antics. Kalim’s infectious energy is difficult to ignore, and before you know it, you’re not thinking about textbooks or formulas. After a while, the stress that had weighed you down earlier feels lighter, and you realize that, for once, you’ve actually enjoyed yourself.

“See? Now you’re ready to get back to studying, right?” Kalim asks, his smile bright as ever.

You nod, grateful for the reminder that taking a break is just as important as the work itself.

VIL SCHOENHEIT.

Prioritizes your well-being as much as your performance. Vil understands that success isn’t only about hard work; it’s also about taking care of yourself. When he sees you pushing too hard, he steps in with a nudge to make sure you’re looking after your own needs.

Vil knows that sleep is crucial for maintaining your appearance. If he catches you burning the midnight oil, he’ll quickly point out that lack of sleep can lead to skin problems. He won’t let you skip out on sleep, ensuring you get enough hours to keep your glow intact!

Pushes you to strive for excellence, but not at the cost of your health. Vil doesn't mince words. He’ll tell you that while excellence is key, it’s impossible to reach your full potential if you're physically or mentally drained. His tough-love approach aids you to rest guilt-free.

While he ensures everything you need is within reach, Vil steps back when necessary, giving you space while still overseeing that you’re on the right path. He knows when to be hands-off. What he wants is more about guiding from a distance, making sure you’re supported without being smothered.

Takes a no-nonsense step to self-care. Vil is not the one for empty comforts. When he suggests rest, it’s because he’s seen the signs that you’ve reached your limit. He’ll encourage you to take a break in a way that ensures you actually benefit from it. And that’s through mindfulness exercises or making sure you get full hours of sleep.

Feeling Vil’s hands as they gently rub the toner into your skin, you let out a sigh of relief. “You’re not going to retain anything if you don’t take a step back,” he chides, smoothing a serum into your face. “Your brain’s running on empty, and pushing through it will only make things worse.”

You hold onto your textbook weakly, but Vil silences you with a pointed look. “Studying can wait. Focus on yourself now.” He's firm, but the soothing rhythm of his movements suggests he’s already in control, seamlessly switching between products as he guides you through the routine.

By the time the routine is finished, you feel more at ease. All that clog in your brain has been cleansed by Vil. “You’ve done enough for today,” he tells you assuredly. “Now rest and recover. Your studies will be waiting for you when you’re ready.”

IDIA SHROUD.

Even if he's not the best at emotional support, Idia’s way of helping during burnout involves a combo of companionship and gaming. If you’re stressing out, he’ll slide a controller over to you or invite you to join him for a match—it’s for you to take your mind off things and go AFK from your studies for a while.

When you’re pushing yourself too hard, Idia will pull you away from your textbooks by loading up a game that's often Minecraft or some multiplayer game he’s grinding. He doesn’t really say much about your stress, though the simple act of playing together shows how much he cares about your well-being.

His ability to aid is kinda noob-level, like trying his best to lead you out of a burnout dungeon. He might rambles out of thought from time to time, making him worry you’ll get overstimulated. He’s not exactly smooth; still, his effort is there, even if he's not sure himself things will work.

While gaming together, Idia can be a bit of a tryhard, fully immersed in the game and urging you to focus on the mission rather than stressing.

Idia’s version of self-care is a bit unconventional (as if he takes care of himself properly), but if it means getting you to step away from your textbooks and level up the EXP you lost, he’s all in. He’s sure that winning a few rounds or building a house together is a surefire way to recharge.

You're scrolling through your inventory, trying to figure out where you want to build next. A farm? A simple house? Pixel art? The game’s peaceful enough since both of you are in creative mode. You glance at Idia, who’s still kind of lurking, hovering with his controller in hand, but he’s waiting for you to take the lead.

“So, uh... where should we make the house?” Idia asks, trying not to sound too eager but clearly wanting to get into it.

Without much thought, you pick a spot, pointing to a flat area by a river. “Here,” you mutter, a little more focused on building than anything else. “This seems like a good place to start.”

After a few more minutes into the game, you start to gradually get more energetic. He’s quiet now, looking over you as you get more into it. You’re starting to improve, and he can’t help the small sense of relief that washes over him. It’s a little thing, watching you regain your focus and energy. But, it means the world to him.

MALLEUS DRACONIA.

Malleus is keenly attuned to the smallest details, a habit shaped by his nature. His observation picks up on the tiniest shifts in your demeanor—the signs of stress, exhaustion, or when something feels out of place in your routine. He might not constantly show it, but he’s always watching (in a good way).

When it comes to burnout, Malleus is unfailingly gentle. He won’t pressure you into rest, and offers you to step away from what's keeping you in a hassle. A calm walk in the garden becomes his suggestion, a chance for you to breathe.

Malleus knows he does not need to be forceful. He never demands rest, respecting when you prefer solitude. If you need time to yourself, he’ll watch from a distance, assuring you're okay without intruding on your space. His care isn't as obvious, but you know he's always there, guarding you. After all, you are his favorite person.

Having been isolated for much of his life, Malleus is deeply aware of what it feels like to be overlooked or having to mask turmoil. He recognizes when you're retreating into yourself, and without making a big show of it, he makes his presence known. It’s not about asking if you’re okay—it's just how he shows you that you are not alone.

Malleus’ care doesn’t shout; it’s felt in silence. It’s when he talks to you to take your mind off things. He’s not trying to fix you, merely offering light when everything feels heavy.

Ah, finally. Some fresh air that keeps you refreshed. You walk side by side, taking in the breeze. Malleus walks with his usual regal presence, though every so often, his eyes wander, taking in the details of the scenery.

"Do you think gargoyles are more than just statues?" Malleus suddenly inquires, innocent curiosity laced within his tone. It's as if he’s pondering the thought out loud. "I’ve always thought they have more purpose than being mere decorations."

He takes a little peak at you, eyes gleaming with that same intensity. "In my homeland, there are gargoyles that watch over the castles. Sometimes, I wonder if they’re meant to protect the place, like guardians."

He pauses for a second before turning to you again, that soft smile of his still visible on his face. "What do you think, human? Are they just stone, or do they have some deeper meaning?"

It’s a random thought, but you can’t help feeling endeared by Malleus’ strange musings. He’s not seeking a response, just casually sharing what’s on his mind. You're not complaining. This is better than having to study all those lectures again and again.

© lilipens

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

maidenless board game club headcanons

Time to bully Azul and Idia :)) I often picture their club meetings being just them shit talking the other person and calling them rizzless…

Any and all mentions of the reader are meant to be gender neutral; gendered terms may still appear in these headcanons, but never in reference to the reader.

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Azul likes to think he’s suave and could bag “anyone he set his mind to.” Eh, why hasn’t he tried to woo anyone then? For him, he states it’s a matter of pride!! He would never be emotionally vulnerable to just anyone, you know. A-And besides, he’s focusing on his business and personal growth right now, he doesn’t have the time to toy with hearts! (Or so Azul insists.)

The reality is, he has never kissed anyone outside of his family. Just soft pecks on the cheeks in greeting, mainly to his mother and grandma. Azul would never admit this out loud though, he thinks it detracts from his “cool” persona.

The thing about Azul is that he overthinks EVERYTHING. He’ll sit there and map out every possible thing that could happen on a date and how he will prepare to handle them. This includes what to say and when he should smile when speaking… He’s charming, yes, and starts off with a strong first impression—but he also tends to come off as too rehearsed or humble bragging about his accomplishments.

Azul’s desperate for a S/O not because he wants one per se, but because he wants validation that he is, in fact, attractive and desirable. After all, he made such an effort to change himself and to come off as confident, intelligent, and capable. He would like to bask in the reassurance that his efforts were worth it, because now he can “have” whoever he wants.

Aaand therein lies another problem. Azul is still stuck in the mindset that relationships are transactional. You do a favor for him? Well, he has to match it. He gives you a gift? Then he expects one back. Yet Azul keeps himself to an emotional distance, too afraid to be completely honest about his flaws.

Idia thinks the issue is Azul’s personality. When Azul demands to know what exactly his clubmate means by that. Idia just sneers and goes off on a tirade. According to him, Azul-shi may look like he’s got everything put together, but since he’s actually a greedy scumbag, no amount of expensive cologne or nice clothes can cover up a rotten core.

Sometimes he and Idia just head back to the Mostro Lounge and pour one out (non-alcoholic drinks like fruit juice) to drown their sorrows. Jade and Floyd show great interest in these sessions, but Azul is cautious about letting any truly embarrassing experiences slip out.

The twins will occasionally dare him to snag a date with whichever random person walks through the doors to the Mostro Lounge next. Azul initially took these as personal challenges and did his utmost to win these dares, but after a string of embarrassing flops he now knows better than to be baited.

Idia is scared of 3D people and prefers to stick to his anime waifus and aidorus. REAL people could never compare! They’re too flawed and unpredictable—and, worst of all, they don’t come with dialogue options and affection meters to help Idia gauge what to do/say and when the Love Flags will trigger! What’s an introverted otaku to do?

He’s the type to openly disparage happy couples and love while secretly craving the warm touch of a flesh and blood person in the depths of his soul. His ideal is a kawaii gamer who’s into all the same things he is! … Unfortunately, he’s way too shy and unconfident to ever take a stab at it!! This is his way of coping.

He goes into the chats of his favorite streamers and tosses tons of money to get his comment read and to be noticed. Idia is the type to get super parasocial with the objects of his affection (he owns all the merch, goes to the events (virtually), has had a membership since day 1, etc.), even if he scoffs at the idea when directly confronted about it.

Literally bro spends his free time moderating Discord servers and Subreddits to complain about dating. Oh, but then the INSTANT he learns a user is single he starts treating them completely differently, calling them cute and his kitten or whatever. It’s amazing how much boldness he gains from behind the safety and comfort of a screen.

He doesn’t realize the value Ortho has as a wingman. Some people are super into the idea of doting on a younger sibling or dating a guy that loves his family—but Idia never brings these up as aspects of himself. Idia often vents about dating to his little bro and then tells Ortho he’s so lucky he doesn’t have to put up with stupid complex human emotions like love. Ortho just stares at him and begs his big bro to not get catfished.

He unfortunately drives people off with his sometimes pompous attitude. He’ll challenge others’ knowledge about his favorite media and get into extended arguments with them about the subjects he’s passionate about. Only “true” fan are allowed here! If you don’t get it, Idia will mansplain to you for hours at a time over VC.

Idia’s frequently the first to instigate (verbal) fights with Azul over their appeal in the dating scene. Offended, Azul usually fires back with some remark about how Idia hasn’t even witnessed him making eye contact with a REAL living, breathing woman. “Fictional women and a ghost bride do NOT count!”

You're nice to Idia ONCE (like, you let him borrow a pencil because he forgot his for an exam) and BOOM instantly this guy is lurking in the corners, giggling creepily ("Hihihihihi...") and shyly watching you from a distance. He's way too anxious to actually try and shoot his shot, but now he's fully convinced you're into him. (Idia lives out his fantasies with you in life sim games to cope with not having you irl 💀)

[hvnlygrl]

hii!! Can you do JJ

where they were at a kegger and she drank alot so he had to carry her home and change her but he sees that she's wearing a pad and then he asks kie for help and then wtv

don’t worry.

pairing — jj maybank x fem!reader

word count — 1.9k

warnings — fluff, drinking and smoking, unconscious/extremely drunk reader, sweet jj, drinking then driving (not drunk driving), period talk, mention of toxic shock syndrome.

synopsis — after you have a few too many at the kegger, jj brings you home and takes care of you for the night. however, he needs kie’s help when he realizes he has no idea what to do for a girl on her period.

notes — this is so sweet i can literally just imagine his face when he realizes 😭

even though you told jj on the way to the kegger that your plan for the night was to get so fucked up you could barely walk, he was still shocked to see you down beer after beer. whether you chugged from a funnel or shotgunned, he watched you intently. he was drinking too, but not nearly as much, and his tolerance was a lot higher than yours was. 

jj knew that being your boyfriend meant that he had to stay alert to be sure that nobody, whether they were a kook, pogue or touron, gave you any trouble throughout the night. though, he also knew that everyone was fully aware that you were his girl, and they would be complete idiots to put themself in that position. 

you shot jj a half smile and a drunken wink as you beckoned him over to the edge of the treeline, gar pack in hand. he knew that there were two rolled blunts in that pack, two that he rolled before you left the house tonight. he grinned as he excused himself from the conversation with john b, following you over to your top-secret hiding spot. it was an old pump-shed a few hundred feet from where the kegger took place, hidden in the woods. he walks in, settles in next to you on the ground and pulls the lighter from his pocket. 

you scoot closer to him, pulling your phone from your back pocket as you pull up spotify. “let’s set the mood,” you joke, wiggling your eyebrows at him not-so-seductively. 

he laughs, shaking his head at you, “you havin’ fun, baby?” 

“i’m having so much fun,” you’re not slurring but he can tell just by the sound of your voice that you’re getting fairly drunk. “i’m so excited for this blunt,” you squeal, rubbing your hands together like some cartoon villain. 

“well, let’s get this party started then,” jj retorts, flashing his signature grin at you. he roasts the end of the blunt in the flame for a few moments before bringing it up to his lips, puffing on it a few times until it begins burning evenly. he always took the first hit, though he would never admit that this was the reason, because he needed to be sure that it wasn’t laced. he bought from the same guy every time, but after hearing all the horror stories, he just couldn’t take the risk with you. to him, his life was expendable and yours needed to be protected at all costs. 

you watch him closely, completely unaware of the silent sacrifice, admiring his features under the mixture of the moonlight coming through the broken roof and the flame of the lighter. he takes a few hits, holding them in for a bit before exhaling them. on the last hit, he holds it, swishing the smoke around in his mouth before letting it out as a ghost, pulling it back in expertly. 

you take the blunt from between his fingers, taking your own hits. you do a few ghosts before working on blowing o’s, the milky clouds flowing perfectly in the breezeless shed. 

by the end of the blunt, you’re feeling pretty crossfaded. fade into you by mazzy star begins playing from your phone, a soft gasp flying from your lips as you stand up. “dance with me.” 

“what?” jj questions with a laugh.

“c’mon, jj, dance with me!” you beckon him aggressively, clapping happily when he finally stands up. 

you wrap your hands around the back of his neck, resting them there comfortably as he lets his hands grip your waist gently. the two of you sway back and forth to the beat as you sing softly. he can’t help but adore you in this moment, seeing you so full of light and happiness, completely unbothered by anything and everything else. he knows that the only thing going through your head is being with him, and he can’t help but be totally in love with you. 

when the song ends, he gives you a soft kiss, letting his forehead rest against yours as the next song begins playing. in this moment, it's just the two of you, and that’s all he’s ever wanted. 

“you ready to go back soon?” you ask after a few minutes, “i told sarah i’d take some shots with her at the waterline.” 

he nods, “sure, whenever you’re ready, babe. i’ll probably go grab john b and pope to smoke this other blunt if that’s cool.” 

you shrug, “it’s your weed, babe, do whatever you want,” you give him a smile, leaning up to kiss him one more time. the kiss is interrupted by your phone ringing, sarah’s name and picture popping up on the screen. “shit, that’s sarah,” you pull away, answering it. “what’s up sare-bear!” 

“where are you? i wanna take these shots, and i’ll take them without you if you don’t hurry your ass up,” you can tell just by her tone that she’s joking, but the threat does kick you into high gear. 

“don’t you dare! i’m coming, i’ll be there in a sec,” you reply, matching her tone before you hang up. “gotta go, babe!” you give him another kiss before darting out of the shed, running to the meeting spot you and sarah had agreed on. 

kie is sitting next to sarah on the sand when you arrive, both of them giving you a look that screams you better not have been screwing. 

“we were smoking,” you reply to the silent comments, crossing your fingers over your heart, “scouts honor.” 

“whatever,” sarah shrugs jokingly, “let’s get it!” 

you each take turns clinking the shots together before downing them, laughing and telling stories from the last few days. 

you lose track of how much alcohol you’ve consumed, but that mixed with the blunt you smoked with jj earlier has you reeling in place. “y’all,” you begin, words slurred and eyes glossy, “i think i’m fucked.” 

sarah’s as drunk as you are, giggling at the statement, “me too, girlfriend, me too.” 

kiara, on the other hand is significantly more sober than you both, letting out a soft laugh as she hands you her water bottle. “drink up,” she orders, playing mother yet again. “i’ll go find your boyfriends.” 

when she steps away, you and sarah laugh, drawing images in the sand. “ugh, i needed this,” sarah slurs at you. 

“me too,” you nod, eyelids heavy and brain foggy, “it’s so nice to just not have to give a shit for a night.” 

“right?!” sarah exclaims. she rests her head on your shoulder, and you lean your own against the top of her head. “i love girls night.” 

“so real,” you laugh, “you’re like my sister, y’know?” 

“really?” she lifts her head to look at you, drunken tears welling at her waterline, “that means so much, y/n, you’re like the coolest person i know.” 

“yea, really, you and kie are the sisters i always wanted that i never got to have growing up,” you affirm, “you guys are everything to me. i got your back no matter what, y’know that right?”

“yea, i know, don’t worry,” sarah nods, “i got your back too, no matter what girl.” 

kiara returns, john b and jj in tow. jj lets out a soft laugh at the sight of the two of you before moving in front of you, hands extended, “you ready to go home?” 

you nod, reaching your hands out to meet his as he pulls you up. the sudden movement has you feeling dizzy for a moment, sending you stumbling into his chest, “woah.” 

“oh yeah, definitely time to get you home, my girl,” he nods, giving you as much assistance as you need to stumble back to the van. he’s far from drunk as he helps you into the passenger seat of your own car. once he’s got you settled in, he moves around to the driver’s seat, starting the car and setting the air to the way he knows you like best. 

it’s a five minute drive back to your house. by the time you make it home, you’re falling all over yourself, unable to see or walk straight. jj’s right by your side, guiding you up the front steps and through the house. you’re more than half asleep, hardly conscious when he gets you to the bedroom. he lies you down on your side of the bed, moving to your dresser to grab comfier clothes for you to sleep in. he runs to the bathroom for makeup wipes, knowing you’d be pissed if you woke up in the same makeup from last night. 

jj starts the process by wiping off your makeup as best as he can. once he’s satisfied with that, or pretty sure you’ll be satisfied with it in the morning, he moves to change your clothes. first he pulls of your shoes and socks, knowing how annoyed you get by sleeping in socks. then he pulls the crop top over your head, sliding a big t-shirt on in its place. after he’s got your shirt situated, he unhooks your bra and pulls your arms through the straps, pulling it out from under the shirt the same way he’d seen you do a million times. the last step is getting you out of your jeans. he unbuttons and unzips them before shimmying them down your legs and throwing them as close to the hamper as he can get them. he’s about to put your favorite pair of sleep shorts on when he notices the wings of a pad sticking out from your underwear. he bites at his lip, unsure of what to do. 

jj doesn’t have the first idea about what to do for a girl on their period in that regard, but he knows that he can’t just leave you like that. he’s heard kiara’s rants about toxic shock syndrome a million times and he has no clue if leaving it for that long would make you sick. kiara, he realizes. he pulls out his phone, dials her number and waits for her to pick up. 

“what’s up, jj? everything okay?” she replies, still with pope at the kegger. “how’s y/n?”

“she’s sleeping,” he responds, “look, i hate to ask you this, but she’s like passed out right now and she’s got a pad on. i don’t know what to do, i don’t wanna leave her like this-” 

kiara cuts him off with a soft laugh, “i’ll be there in a few, hang tight.” 

jj sighs a breath of relief, “oh, thank god. thank you so much, kie, i owe you one.” 

“no problem,” she laughs, “see you in a sec.” 

jj waits patiently until kiara gets there, quickly letting her in and sending her to the bedroom. he waits in the living room, watching instagram reels as he waits for her to do whatever she needs to do, completely relieved that she knows what to do. 

she makes her way to the living room after a few minutes, “got her all clean and tucked in.” 

“thank you so much, kie, seriously, i had no idea what to do,” he rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“no worries,” she shrugs it off, “just girls helping girls. you know i’m all about that.” 

“true that,” he laughs, giving her a quick goodbye as she makes her way out to her car. he goes back to the bedroom, sliding in next to you after putting your phone on the charger on your nightstand. he also took the courtesy of bringing your trashcan to the side of the bed just in case. 

-> back to masterlist

taglist — @rubiehart @sarahsangelicdoll @baebankz

[burningembers91]

Like a Dog - The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature

On Display

A Game of Cat and Mouse

Crime of Passion

Rare

Gunpowder and Lace

Synopsis: Your grey suited man has finally relinquished control

A/N: well, I did NOT see the story going this way! But, the more I write for him the more I can’t help but see him as a secret sub. He’s so dark and evil during the day, but I can see him being so needy for his woman at night. So yeah, I guess this is now a Sub!Salesman storyline 🤗 but he’s still completely insane

Also, for the alleyway scene in this fic, I was deffo picturing this gif:

There was something so intimate about relinquishing control. It gave him a sense of freedom he’d never felt before, a kind of peace he was sure he’d never know. Since telling you his name, his world had altered, had taken on a new meaning. He was always so sure he’d wanted to control you, to torture you until you broke; it was a force of habit, really. He’d always been good at breaking things, of tearing even the strongest people down until they were nothing but withered shells. But somewhere along the line, his desires towards you had changed. You’d brought something new to his life; love.

It was an odd feeling, one that he’d never felt before. He’d been so sure that he was entirely incapable of feeling anything towards any living thing, and at first it at felt uncomfortable. It was uncomfortable the way his heart physically ached for you, the feeling seeping down into the pit of his stomach in a wave of delicious heat that tied itself in knots around his senses. At first he’d been sure he was having a heart attack, or possibly a stroke, but he was convinced that neither of those things were supposed to feel pleasurable, not like he felt when he was with you. He missed you when you weren’t around, and craved you when you were. He was like a loyal dog, blindly following you whenever you went.

He found it hard to concentrate at work, always wondering what you were doing. He wanted to know how your day was, what you were having for lunch, what time you’d be home, how the kids in your classes were getting on. Love was inconvenient, love was a distraction, but he was beyond the point of caring. He’d almost made mistakes at work, and mistakes in his job were simply out of the question. He had to figure out a way of getting you out of his head, had to find a way to block you from his brain during the day. But no matter how hard he tried, you always managed to worm your way back in.

You were living with him now, his desire to be with you so strong that he simply couldn’t face living apart. He enjoyed seeing your things in his home; your perfumes and lotions next to his cologne, your clothes hanging up next to his in the closet. He found himself excited to come home, to bask in the domestic mundanity of ordinary life. You liked to read, and the two of you would lie across his expansive leather sofa, his head in your lap as you played with his hair, both engrossed in your own novels. He was worried you were making him weak, turning him into the kind of man he enjoyed breaking. There were days he couldn’t make it until the evening to see you, showing up at your school to meet you for lunch, or walking you home after the day had ended.

He allowed you full control in the bedroom, bending to your every will and desire. He was so pitifully grateful on the nights you gave him the power back, allowing him to feel in control again for a brief moment. But you were the one calling the shots now, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t care.

As his love for you grew however, so did his disdain for others. He’d always been the jealous type, had never liked to share. He found it harder to maintain his cool when you were out, his eyes constantly scanning the crowds to see if anyone had the gall to try and undress you with their eyes. There was always someone he could pick out, someone who looked at you the wrong way, who walked a little too close to you. One day when you stopped for coffee, a man had the audacity to queue jump, pushing past you as if you were invisible. That man ended up with a broken nose and two black eyes, left to cower in the alleyway behind the cafe as your grey suited man stamped repeatedly on his ribs until you told him to stop. He’d been a fool to think you were making him weak; you were only making him stronger.

You still had so many questions about the man who worshipped you like you were a goddess. You knew he was dangerous; had seen him take a man’s life and beat another one almost to death because they had disrespected you. He’d gone from stalking you like a cat stalks a mouse to begging for your attention, your validation. He was a man who would crawl through broken shards of glass if you asked him to. You knew virtually nothing about his family, only that he had parents, but he no longer spoke to them. You never met any of his friends, never met any of his colleagues. Your belief about his job in sales and recruitment was dubious. He dressed in custom Versace suits and Prada loafers, and you didn’t know any sales job that paid that well. You were hesitate to quiz him though; he treated you like royalty, giving you everything you’d desired and more, along with an undying, almost obsessive love he showered you in.

As much as he loved you, he couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. It was a terrifying word, one that had never left his lips before. He’d never even told his parents that he loved them, because in truth he hadn’t. Until you came along, he viewed everyone with a quiet distaste. People were a nuisance, a waste of time unless they had something you needed. He hoped you knew how much he loved you though, hoped his devotion to you showed through his actions. He showered you in gifts, did everything around the house so you never had to lift a finger, marked your students essays on the nights you were too tired. He was your servant in the bedroom, living only to please you.

He’d been scared at first, scared when he realised he was happy to let you dominate him. He’d always been in control, had always been the one calling the shots, but he’d never realised how good it could feel to be the one treated like a dog. He found immense pleasure in fulfilling your every desire, of letting you use him like a toy. His work required him to always be alert, to always ensure no one bested him. It became a relief to come home at night and allow himself to be told what to do.

He was enjoying this life with you, a life of domestic bliss he never thought he’d crave. You were by no means a conventional couple, but it worked for you.

You knew he had a dark side, had seen it many times. And yet he played the doting boyfriend so well. You didn’t care how dangerous he was, how devilish his desires were when it came to toying with others. With you, he craved nothing but your love and respect. And you were happy to give it to him, your submissive, grey suited man.

[daryltwdixon]

Teach You IV

Summary: Daryl can’t seem to get ahold of himself after the night you spent together. For days, you're all he can think about—your voice, your touch, the way you've unleashed a part of him he never knew existed. Nothing else matters, nothing else feels right, and when he sees you now, he knows he’s coming back for more. Always.

warnings: smut, MDNI, dirty talk, Daryl is a man possessed, pinv, oral, fingering, Daryl's POV

a/n: the amount of messages I've gotten about this fills my little heart with so much joy, you guys!!! thank you for loving what I do :')

not super proofread! sorry! will check later

The late afternoon bathes the room in golden light, casting soft shadows as Daryl watches her. She’s standing there, completely absorbed in some meaningless task—folding laundry, shifting supplies, something so mundane he can’t understand how she’s focused on it when he’s right here. She’s been taking up all the space in his mind, all the air in his lungs, and she has no idea.

Well, maybe she does. She’s the one who did this to him. The one who made him feel insatiable, so utterly out of control over his own thoughts and body.

Daryl leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, but it’s just to steady himself. His blood is running too hot, his heart pounding too fast, and it’s all because of her. His gaze drags over her, over the way her shirt clings to her back, the soft curve of her hips, the little furrow in her brow as she concentrates. She’s so calm, so collected, like she hasn’t absolutely ruined him.

Ever since that first night—hell, every night since—she’s been all he can think about. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees her. Feels her. The way she looked at him, the way she touched him, the way she felt under him—warm and soft and his. His cock has never been this hard, not at midnight, not first thing in the morning, and definitely not all goddamn day. And it’s all because of her.

His jaw clenches as the memories flood back: her taste, sweet and heady on his tongue. The way she whispered his name, gasping and desperate, like he was the only man in the world who could make her feel that way. Taking her for the first time, the way her body shifted and shivered beneath him as he rocked into her. It was like a switch he didn’t even know existed had flipped inside him, and now he’s nothing but want, need—fucking hunger.

His hands twitch at his sides. He tries to rein it in, to give her space, but it’s useless. His thoughts are wild and untamed, like he’s been starved his whole damn life and she’s the only thing that can satisfy him. He wants to feel her again, taste her again, bury himself so deep inside her that neither of them knows where one ends and the other begins.

And she’s just standing there, so calm, so unbothered. How can she not feel it? Doesn’t she know what she’s done to him?

“Alright,” he growls, the sound low and guttural as he finally pushes off the doorframe, done with just standing by and watching her as he unravels.

Her head snaps up, her hands pausing mid-motion. “Daryl?” she asks, her brow furrowing in confusion at the intensity in his voice.

But he doesn’t answer. He can’t. Words won’t do it, won’t scratch the itch clawing at him, the fire burning through his veins. He crosses the room in a few quick strides, his movements rough and purposeful. His hands grip her waist before she can react, lifting her clean off the floor and tossing her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing.

“Daryl!” she squeals, her fists playfully tapping at his back, though there’s laughter in her voice. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

He doesn’t bother answering, doesn’t stop. He’s already heading for the nearest surface—the couch, the bed, the table, he doesn’t fucking care. All that matters is her, laid out for him, ready for him to take her apart.

When he reaches the couch, he lowers her just enough to drop her onto the cushions, her legs still dangling over the edge as he looms over her. She looks up at him, her chest rising and falling as she takes him in, her eyes widening slightly at the look on his face.

“You’ve ruined me,” he growls, his voice like gravel as his hands cage her in on either side. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about you. About how you feel. About how you taste. I can’t think straight, can’t sleep. You’ve fucked me up, woman.”

Her eyes widen, her lips parting as she looks up at him, her breath catching in her throat. She’s not used to this—him talking so much, his words spilling out in a frantic, unfiltered rush. He knows it too. Knows he can be a little aloof, a bit of a dick when it comes to talking about what’s on his mind. But she’d broken him, shattered whatever walls he’d kept so carefully constructed, and now he couldn’t stop the rambling, couldn’t stop the truth from pouring out of him.

His hands travel up her body, sliding over her sides, his rough fingertips grazing her skin, skimming over her stomach. He slots his hips between her legs, pressing her further into the couch as her thighs fall open for him.

“I—” she starts, but he cuts her off, his hands finding her waist, his touch rough but trembling.

“Please,” he mutters, his voice low and desperate, almost trembling with the weight of his need. His hands glide over her sides, brushing against her ribs, feeling the heat of her skin through her thin shirt. “I need you. Every inch of you. Right fuckin’ now. Tell me yes. Please, say yes.”

Her cheeks flush even deeper, the red blooming across her neck and chest as she stares up at him. And then, slowly, her hands lift, sliding up to rest on his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice a soft, breathless sigh. “Yes, Daryl. Always yes.”

It’s all he needs. An inhuman noise rumbles deep in his chest, primal and desperate, as his lips crash against hers, needy and unrelenting. His hands grip her thighs, pulling her flush against him as he kisses her like a man possessed, all teeth and tongue and sheer, insatiable hunger.

"Goddamn," he mutters against her lips, his voice shaking as he pulls back just enough to look at her. His hands slide further up her legs, gripping her ass, his thumbs imprinting into the soft curves of her skin. "You've got me so fucked up. I can't think about anything else. Just you. Just this.'

His lips trail down her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse point as his fingers hook into her shorts. He doesn't wait for permission this time; he knows she's all in, knows she's just as wanton as he is. He tugs them down in one rough motion, taking her panties with them, leaving her bare and spread out before him.

His gaze drops to her center, and he groans, his head tipping back for a moment as he fights to keep himself together. "Look at you," he murmurs, his voice low and reverent,"So fuckin' beautiful. So goddamn perfect." His hands grip her knees then, spreading her wider as he lowers himself between her legs.

His breath is hot against her skin, his mouth trailing hot, open kisses along the inside of her thighs, inching closer and closer to where she wants him most. Her sex glistens for him already, the sheen of slick luring him in.

"Daryl," she whines breathlessly, her fingers tangling in his hair as her hips lift off the couch.

He doesn't answer. Instead, he dives in, his tongue pressing flat against her slick heat, dragging up to circle her clit with slow, deliberate precision. The taste of her hits him like a drug, and he groans, his hands tightening on her thighs as he pulls her closer, needing more. 

"You taste so fuckin' sweet," he mutters against her, his voice muffled but filled with awe.

Her cries spur him on, her thighs trembling against his shoulders as he works her over, his mouth relentless and hungry. He licks and sucks and nips at her, devouring her like she's the only thing keeping him alive, like her pussy is the last source of water in a barren desert. He still didn’t know how to do this right, not really, but he knew what her gasps meant, knew what the shiver in her thighs told him. And God, he just wanted to keep making her feel that way. His tongue falters for a moment, unsure if he’s going too fast or too slow, but then her hips roll against him, and he takes that as a sign to keep going.

"Daryl," she whimpers, her voice trembling as her fingers tug harder at his hair. "Oh, fuck-don't stop. Please, don't stop."

Her pleading only fuels him, his tongue moving faster, his lips sealing around her clit as he slides two fingers inside her. Her body arches off the couch, her moans turning into desperate, breathless cries as he curls his fingers, stroking her exactly where she needs him. Her body responds instinctively, her words no longer coherent as her hips buck against him, riding the wave of her climax as it crashes over her.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow. His mouth and fingers work her through every shudder, every breathless gasp, coaxing every ounce of pleasure out of her until she’s trembling beneath him, her chest heaving as she collapses back onto the cushions.

But he’s far from done.

She’s still shaking when his pace begins to slow, his lips pressing soft, reverent kisses to her slick heat as if to soothe her overstimulated body. Her breath comes in sharp, uneven bursts, her fingers gripping the cushions beneath her, but before she can catch her breath, his fingers curl again, pressing against that spongy spot inside her.

A sharp cry tears from her throat, her hips jerking involuntarily as the sensation sends a jolt of electricity through her.

“Daryl—” she starts, her voice trembling, but he just hums against her, his tongue dragging over her clit in slow, deliberate circles.

“Want another,” he mutters, his voice muffled against her skin, his words punctuated by the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth and fingers working her over. “Want more. Gotta see you like this again.”

Her head tips back, her body arching as overstimulation teeters dangerously close to overwhelming. “I—Daryl, it’s too much—” she gasps, but the words are lost in another moan as his fingers curl deeper, stroking that spot inside her with an almost maddening precision. If there was anything Daryl learned from their first time together, it was that he needed to know every single nook and crevice of her that made her come undone. Either with his mouth, his fingers, his cock. He was determined to learn her body inside and out. 

“You can take it,” he growls as his lips seal around her clit again. His tongue flicks against her, faster now, relentless, as if her pleasure is the only thing that matters. “You’re so good for me, baby.”

Her body tightens beneath him, her nails clawing at the cushions as her thighs tremble around his head. She’s teetering on the edge again, the line between pleasure and too much blurring as his words and his touch send her spiraling. The second always comes so much faster than the first, it’s like a domino falling inside her lower belly.

She was falling apart because of him. He couldn’t believe it—still didn’t really know what he was doing—but her gasps, her moans, they told him he was doing something right.

“Cum for me,” he mutters, his voice hoarse but commanding. “Wanna feel you again. Wanna hear you,”

Her body responds before her mind can catch up, her hips bucking against his mouth as another wave crashes over her. She cries out, her voice raw and broken, her walls clenching around his fingers as she tumbles over the edge for the second time.

He groans against her, his tongue slowing as he works her through it, coaxing every last shudder and gasp from her trembling frame. When she finally collapses fully against the couch, her body spent and trembling, he presses one last kiss to her inner thigh, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smile.

As he moves to kneel between her legs again, her hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as her legs wrap around his waist, anchoring him to her. She’s still trembling from her release, her body pliant and warm beneath him, but she reaches up to capture his lips in hers, tasting herself on his now swollen, wet lips.

“Please, Daryl,” she says against his lips–now it was her begging him, and God if it didn’t take every last drop of restraint to wait for him to hear what she wanted next. How the hell did she look like that, sound like that, just because of him? He didn’t understand it, didn’t feel like he deserved it, but he was desperate to be worthy of her. He’d give her anything. Anything. 

“What is it, baby? What do you want? Tell me,” he groans against her, his hips rutting into her, the wetness of her center staining his jeans where his bugle meets her clit. “Need you,” she whines, gasping when he drags his hips against her harder, “Please. Fuck me, Daryl.”

That’s all he needs. His hands fumble at his waistband, his urgency making his movements clumsy as he shoves his pants and briefs down just enough to free himself. His cock is already hard, throbbing and aching with need as he grips the base, positioning himself at her entrance.

He pauses, his breath ragged as he meets her gaze again, his forehead pressing against hers. “Tell me if I’m hurtin’ you,” he murmurs, his voice low and shaky.

“You won’t,” she reassures him, her hands sliding down to rest on his arms, her touch grounding him. “I trust you.”

The words send a wave of warmth through him, his chest tightening as he pushes forward, the tip of him sliding into her with an agonizing slowness. He groans, low and guttural, as the heat of her surrounds him, and her gasp mirrors his, her nails digging lightly into his skin. 

This is all he’s thought about for days—taking her on the nearest surface, spreading her open, and burying himself deep inside her. The way she’d feel wrapped around him, her body clenching tight, pulling him in. But no amount of imagination, no desperate strokes of his own hand, could have prepared him for the way the real thing feels.

“God,” he mutters, his voice breaking as he sinks deeper, his hands trembling against her hips. “You’re so—fuck, you’re so tight.”

Her walls flutter around him, pulling a low groan from his throat. He can barely hold himself together, the heat and wetness of her stealing every coherent thought from his mind.

She moans softly, her hips tilting to take him in further, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. “It’s too—too much, too big—” she breathes, her voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and something he can’t quite place.

His movements falter, his body stiffening as a rush of panic washes over him. He freezes, afraid of hurting her, afraid of pushing too far. His hips still as her words echo in his head, his hands trembling where they grip her hips. “Am I hurtin’ ya?” he asks, his voice tight with worry, his brow furrowing as he looks down at her.

Her hands slide up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his scruff. Her breath is shaky, her cheeks flushed, but there’s no fear in her eyes—only heat, only need.

“No,” she breathes, her voice trembling but steady. “It’s not that. I just—” She pauses, her lips parting as her head tilts back slightly. “I’ve never—never had someone so goddamn big.” Her voice breaks, her hands tightening on his arms as her hips shift beneath him. “You stretch me so good, Daryl. It’s just… overwhelming. In the best way.”

Her words send a bolt of heat straight through him, his cock twitching inside her as a low groan escapes his lips. “Jesus,” he mutters, his forehead pressing against hers. “You can’t say shit like that, woman. Gonna make me lose my mind,”

She laughs softly, the sound breathy and full of affection, and leans up to kiss him, her lips warm and teasing. “Then let me take over,” she whispers against his mouth, her fingers sliding down to his chest. “Let me show you how good you make me feel.”

He hesitates for a moment, his hands flexing against her hips. “You sure?” he asks, his voice low and rough, his gaze searching hers.

She nods, her smile widening as she cups his face again. “I’m sure,” she murmurs.

Reluctantly, he pulls back, his arms steadying her as she shifts beneath him. When his cock slips out of her, both of them hiss at the sudden loss of warmth, but she gently pushes at his chest to move up. And he moves with her, settling back against the cushions as she straddles his hips.

The sight of her above him, her body glowing in the soft afternoon light, takes his breath away. Her hands rest on his chest for balance, her legs bracketing his sides as she sinks down slowly, taking him back inside her inch by inch.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hands finding her thighs, his fingers pressing into her soft skin as his head tips back. 

Her moans match his, her body adjusting to the stretch, the fullness of him. “You feel so good,” she whispers, her voice trembling as she begins to move, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles. “So good, Daryl.”

His hands slide to her waist under the hem of her shirt, steadying her as she sets the pace, her movements growing bolder with every passing second. The rhythm she creates is intoxicating, her body rising and falling above him, her warmth enveloping him completely.

“Let me see you,” he mutters, his voice low and reverent as his hands slide up her sides, his thumbs brushing over her ribs, his touch deliberate and worshipful. “Let me see these incredible tits, hunny.”

Her smile widens, her lips parting as her hands slide up her body, grazing over where his own rest on her waist. She takes her time, teasing, before finally gripping the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. The discarded fabric lands somewhere behind the couch, forgotten, as her bare skin is revealed to him.

He doesn’t wait, doesn’t hesitate. His head leans forward like he’s being pulled by some gravitational force he could never—would never—ignore. His lips find her breast, his mouth latching onto a nipple with a low, guttural groan.

His tongue flicks over the hardened peak before drawing it into his mouth, sucking softly. Hands tightening on her waist, his thumbs brush over the curve of her ribs as he holds her steady while her hips continue to rock over him. 

She gasps, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as her hips grind against his. “Daryl,” she breathes, her voice trembling with pleasure. “God, yes, yes, yes,”

Her words spur him on, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud before his mouth moves to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. His tongue swirls, his lips pressing kisses along the soft swell of her skin, as though he’s worshipping every inch of her.

“You’re incredible,” he mutters between kisses, his voice hoarse and thick with awe. “Fuckin’ incredible.”

Her head tips back, her moans spilling from her lips as her hips roll against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through them both. “You’re the one making me feel this good,” she whispers, her voice thick and breathy. Her hands slide down to his shoulders, her nails grazing his skin as she pulls him closer. “This is all you, Daryl.”

Her words ignite something primal in him, his hands sliding down to grip her hips, guiding her movements as she rides him. The pace quickens, their bodies moving together in perfect rhythm, their breaths mingling as the tension builds between them.

“You’re all I want,” he mutters, his voice breaking as he looks up at her, his gaze dark and full of need. “All I fuckin’ think about.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” she sighs, kissing him between breaths, “You’re all I ever think about, Daryl,” you shift your hips and panting, add: “Only man I want, that I need.”

And then it happens. The control he’s been clinging to, the restraint he’s forced himself to maintain, snaps like a taut string stretched too far. Something wild and unhinged breaks free inside him, the monster he’s tried to keep buried roaring to the surface.

Before she can even register the shift, his arms are wrapping around her, pulling her down against him so her stomach is flush to his chest, her breasts pressed into his face. She lets out a surprised yelp, her hands scrambling for purchase against his shoulders, but it’s quickly overtaken by a sharp, guttural moan as he buries himself deeper inside her.

“Daryl!” she gasps, her voice trembling as her hands cling to him, the couch, anything she can grab to stay steady.

He holds her tight, his muscles flexing as his arms cage her in, his body taking over completely. His hips snap up into her, relentless and unyielding, each thrust harder and faster than the last. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with her cries and his ragged groans, creating a symphony of raw, primal need.

Her head falls back, her hair cascading over her shoulders as she screams his name, her voice hoarse and broken with pleasure. And if she wasn’t moaning loud enough to disturb the neighborhood before, she sure as shit was now. The sheer force of his movements has her teetering on the edge of oblivion, her body trembling and she takes everything he’s giving, not able to form words or coherent thoughts anymore.

“That’s right, baby.” he growls, his voice raw and unrecognizable, his hands gripping her hips so tightly he knows he’ll leave marks. “Take that fucking cock, you’re so good, so perfect for it. Like your sweet pussy was made for me,”

The words pour out of him without thought, his mouth brushing against her chest, her neck, her collarbone, anywhere he can reach. He’s barely aware of what he’s saying, barely aware of anything except the overwhelming need to take her, to claim her, to lose himself completely in the heat and softness of her. He’s never known anything like this, where the words are even coming from, where this monster in his chest has escaped from.

Her body arches against him, her moans turning into desperate, breathless cries as she clings to him, her nails digging into his scalp, pulling his hair, “Daryl—I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—”

“That’s it,” he growls, his hips driving up into her harder, deeper, his cock swelling as his own release builds. “Wanna feel you. Wanna hear you scream my fuckin’ name.”

And she does. Her body tenses, her thighs trembling as her release slams into her like a tidal wave. She cries out, her voice raw and ragged as her walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, her pleasure washing over her in uncontrollable waves.

The way she tightens around him, the way her body shakes and shudders in his arms, is enough to send him spiraling after her. He groans, his head tipping back as his hips jerk erratically, his cock pulsing as he spills into her, filling her completely.

His chest heaves as he holds her against him, his body trembling from the force of his release. They stay like that for a long moment, tangled together, their breaths mingling as the intensity of what just happened sinks in.

When he finally loosens his grip, his hands slide to her back, stroking her soothingly as her head rests against his shoulder. “You okay?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, his lips brushing against her ear.

She nods, a breathless laugh escaping her as she lifts her head to meet his gaze. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair sticking to her damp skin, but her smile is soft and curious, a hint of awe in her expression.

“I’m more than okay,” she whispers, her voice trembling with a mix of lingering pleasure and surprise. Her fingers trail lightly over his chest, and her lips curve into a teasing grin. “But… I feel like I unleashed something in you I didn’t know was there.”

His brows furrow slightly, the flush on his cheeks deepening as he looks away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well…” he mutters, his voice rough with embarrassment. “Ain’t never felt like this before. Never had—never been like this with anyone.” His gaze flickers back to hers, unsure but steady. “Guess you… bring somethin’ out in me.”

Her eyes soften, her fingers tracing along his jaw as she tilts his face back toward her. “Something incredible,” she says softly, her smile widening. “I like it. A lot.”

His lips twitch into a small, lopsided grin, his hand coming up to cup her face as his thumb brushes over her cheek. “You… you’re somethin’ else,” he mutters, his voice low and full of affection. “Don’t even feel like the same person I was before you.”

Her heart swells at his words, her chest tightening as she leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. When she pulls back, her smile is full of warmth. “Guess I ruined you in the best way, huh?”

He huffs a laugh, his forehead pressing against hers as his arms tighten around her. “Yeah,” he says, his voice soft but sure. “Guess you did.”

“S’okay,” she murmurs, her fingers trailing lightly over his shoulder. “Think you’ve ruined me too.”

The words hit him like a punch to the chest, his breath stuttering as his grip on her tightens. “Yeah?” he asks, his voice rough and low, like he doesn’t quite believe her but wants to more than anything.

“Yeah,” she whispers back, her lips curving into a soft smile as she breathes in, her forehead still against his, “Never thought I could feel like this—this full, this… complete. It’s all you, Daryl. You’ve changed everything.”

For a moment, he can’t speak, his throat too tight, his chest too full. Instead, he presses his lips to hers again, the kiss deep and slow, filled with everything he can’t quite say.

[solxamber]

hellooo i just needed to say your writings are like super cute theyre like my bedtime stories atp JHDJJXHS but could i request a little hurt comfort headcanon with adeuce seeing a reader who usually is always very cheerful and upbeat. Theres sometimes theyre anxious and worried but overall reader is seen as someone whos strong emotionally like nothing can bring them down. Until something does get them down with tears rolling down their eyes and theyre desperately trying to hide this side of them that they feel so vulnerable letting others see. How would the boys react to such a situation?

aww thank you <3 i didn't know if you wanted separate or together so you get both!

They react to you breaking down || Ace and Deuce

Ace Trappola

Ace’s immediate reaction would be shock. He’s used to seeing you as a ball of sunshine, someone who shrugs off worries with a laugh or a witty remark. Seeing you cry? That’s uncharted territory for him, and it throws him completely off balance.

“Hey, hey, what’s with the waterworks?” he’d say, trying to keep things light-hearted, even though he’s panicking internally. But when he realizes you’re trying to hide your tears, it hits him like a ton of bricks.

Ace might not be the most emotionally articulate, but he cares deeply. He crouches down to your level, blocking your attempts to turn away from him. “You don’t have to act tough, y’know. It’s okay to be upset. Even you deserve a break from being the strong one all the time.”

He’d sit beside you, offering his sleeve (or maybe a tissue if he can find one) to wipe your tears. “Come on, talk to me. I can be serious… sometimes. I won’t even charge you for my amazing advice!” His humor is his way of trying to comfort you.

Beneath the teasing, he’s surprisingly gentle. He stays close, his presence steady and grounding, and he doesn’t leave your side until you’re ready to face the world again.

Deuce Spade

Deuce would immediately panic at the sight of you crying. “W-What happened?! Did someone hurt you? Who was it? I’ll take care of it!” His first instinct is to go into overprotective mode, even if he has no idea what’s going on yet.

But when he notices you trying to hide your face, his heart aches. He’s always admired how strong and positive you are, but seeing you crumble makes him realize just how much pressure you’ve been under.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he says softly, his voice full of concern. “You don’t have to hide from me. I’m your friend—I want to help.”

Deuce would sit down beside you, his presence calm and reassuring. He might fumble a bit with his words, but his sincerity shines through. “It’s okay to cry. I… I cry too sometimes. It doesn’t make you weak. It just means you’ve been holding a lot in.”

He’d hesitate for a moment before reaching out to gently pat your shoulder or hold your hand, giving you the comfort of physical support. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. You’re not alone in this.”

Deuce is the type to quietly stay by your side, letting you take the lead in how much you want to share. If words don’t help, he’s content to simply sit there, offering you a safe space to feel what you need to feel.

Together

If Ace and Deuce stumble upon you crying together, they’d play off each other in their own chaotic but heartfelt way.

Ace would try to lighten the mood with jokes or teasing, but Deuce would elbow him and say, “Now’s not the time for that!”

They’d both sit with you, Ace on one side and Deuce on the other, creating a protective little bubble where you feel safe to let it all out.

Ace might gently nudge you with his shoulder and say, “Come on, you don’t have to deal with this alone. You’ve got us, remember?”

Deuce would nod earnestly, adding, “Yeah! Whatever’s bothering you, we’ll help you fix it. Or… or at least listen. We’re here for you.”

Their dynamic would be a mix of Ace’s playful energy and Deuce’s heartfelt sincerity, making you feel both comforted and loved. They’d stick with you until your tears turn into smiles, determined to remind you that you’re never alone with them around.

Masterlist

[tasteracha]

a/n: hey @chvnnie remember when you asked me to write this like a year ago? i did it. inspired by that one skzcode clip of seungmin teasing felix and felix getting pissed off. warnings: seunglix x afab!reader, meanish dom felix, sub seungmin, smut - MINORS DNI.

you’re woken up by jarring voices, the tv that had been providing you background noise for your slumber having gone to sleep shortly after you did. it takes you a moment to identify the sounds, your brain coming online a few moments after your heart, beating rapidly in your chest from being kicked out of unconsciousness so abruptly. 

“you don’t have to be so fucking mean all the time,” you register felix’s voice first, a dangerousness hiding in his dark tone that doesn’t come out often. he’s usually so positive even when he’s in a bad mood, optimism cracking away at any negative emotions in a way you admire. 

“i wasn’t being mean,” seungmin scoffs in return, and you can hear him walking down the hallway towards the living room where you laid with bated breath. “you’re just being sensitive, lix.”

oh, he’s done it now. 

seungmin sees you first, a blinding smile taking over his face as he walks over to you to run a hand through your hair. you relax into his touch, relishing in the comfort while knowing that a fight was about to break out soon - you knew the difference between felix being sensitive and being genuinely angry. 

right now, even without seeing his face, you knew it was the latter. 

felix walks into the room and you swear he looks six feet tall, standing with his arms crossed and a look on his face. it makes you shiver though it isn’t directed at you, and it goes unnoticed by seungmin even though his hand is still buried in your hair - he was too occupied with smirking at felix, pouring gasoline into a fire that was already blazing towards the ceiling. 

you know what they say, play with fire and you’ll get burned. you hope that seungmin was prepared for what is about to occur. 

“you want me to take care of this, lix?” you ask, your role of Professional Seungmin Tamer coming increasingly more natural as the days went on. it is a last ditch effort to calm the flames. 

“no,” felix’s jaw is set in a hard line, and you can see his teeth grinding together. “i’ll take care of him myself.”

“take care of him myself,” seungmin mocks, snickering to himself for a moment before choking around it from the sudden feeling of felix’s hand around his jaw. felix has moved like a ghost, crossing the room in quick strides and covering seungmin’s body with his own in a silent motion. seungmin’s hand falls from your hair, reaching up to wrap around felix’s wrist - not moving it away, but rather bracing himself against the storm.

seungmin is usually taller than felix, but he’s left looking up at him because of how his knees buckle. despite his clear disadvantage, seungmin lets out a growl at felix’s touch.

“awh, you going to bark for me?” felix coos at him, not an ounce of warmth behind his words. “puppy.”

“you wish,” seungmin hisses out, the breath leaving him completely when felix tightens his grip on his jaw and uses the other one to brace the back of his neck, trapping seungmin completely against him. 

“how can you say that when i can tell you want me so bad already?” felix says, looking something wicked as he wedges a thigh between seungmin’s legs. from where you are you can’t see the younger man’s crotch but you’re certain that his jeans are tented with arousal; your own core was starting to pulse with heat just from watching them, despite you not being touched by either of them. 

“i don’t want you,” seungmin scoffs, trying to turn his face out of felix’s grip and failing. he was lying; seungmin always wanted felix, but nine times out of ten it was on his own terms. you can only imagine how fast seungmin’s head was spinning right now at the sudden change in dynamics. 

watching seungmin twitch his hips against felix’s thigh was maddening. this is the first time you’ve seen felix take control of seungmin like this. maybe felix would make seungmin ride his thigh - that was something you’d be delighted to see. 

“then why are you so hard?” felix’s mouth twists into a grin, wicked and sharp, as he presses his leg further forward, putting pressure on seungmin’s cock and making him moan. 

seungmin, for all his false bravado, submitted beautifully and easily when it was for you. it didn’t surprise you that he did it for felix too, but the sight of his muscles losing their tautness all at once was something to behold. he falls into felix’s arms, boneless and grinding his hips in little circles against the older’s thigh, the fight drained out of his body as quickly as it had arrived.  

“i hate you,” seungmin mutters weakly against felix’s chest as he chases a high he must know he won’t be allowed just yet. the fight left his body, not his mouth, evidently. 

“you’re just making this worse for yourself with every word,” felix chuckles, dry and mean, as he turns seungmin around and pushes him roughly forward. seungmin stumbles and throws a glare over his shoulder, but the effect is lost when he continues to let felix manhandle him. 

“baby,” felix calls out to you, his tone shifting to warmth instantly. you perk your head up and you can’t suppress the shiver that wracks through your body as he cocks his head towards the bedroom while leading seungmin there, a clear invitation to join them for whatever felix was planning to do. you’re on your feet before you can blink, anticipation burning through your veins. 

you have to pause and take a deep breath when you reach the door frame before going in; you knew that what was about to happen was like a fantasy pulled from the deepest depths of your mind. when you gather the nerve to peek inside, seungmin is already naked on the bed, his bottom lip hidden between his teeth as felix fastens his wrists to the headboard with the soft ropes that typically adorn his own. 

“open your mouth,” felix digs his fingers into seungmin’s lips, ignoring how the younger thrashes against the bonds keeping him in place. felix leans forward so that he’s kneeling over seungmin and slides his free hand into his dark hair, scratching softly at his scalp before curling his fingers into a fist and pulling.  “this is all the lube you’re getting, so unless you want me to fuck you dry you’d better do as i say.”

the words sound unpracticed as they spill out of felix’s lips, but seungmin’s lips part with a gasp nonetheless. he chokes on the digits as felix explores his mouth, reaching every crevice and swiping around his annoyingly white teeth. his fingers coming out glistening with saliva, wet and dripping as he lines them up with seungmin’s hole. 

felix opens seungmin up brutally, sliding two fingers in and cooking them up with a look of satisfaction on his face when seungmin jumps. it was a caricature of their usual dynamic, with felix typically melted into the sheets as seungmin uses him however he sees fit. felix finds seungmin’s spot with practiced ease, letting out a laugh when seungmin cries out at the intense pleasure. he avoids it after, scissoring his fingers almost clinically, teasing seungmin with the sensation that is so close but that he won’t be granted.

contrary to his claim, felix squirts a generous amount of lube on his cock once he undresses before he pushes in slowly, letting seungmin feel the drag of every inch. the younger’s breaths come out in violent shudders, and as you step closer to look his pupils are almost completely blown over his irises, barely a hint of chocolate brown to be seen. 

felix presses a kiss to seungmin’s forehead when he bottoms out, the gentlest touch he’s given him since he started. it shows how spaced out seungmin is that he leans up into the touch, craving felix’s touch like he would starve without it. seungmin’s eyes are glassy, a spaced out expression taking over his face that you’ve never seen before. he tends not to let his guard down, even during the most intimate moments that you share, and you hope that you get to witness this again. 

felix keeps a steady pace, dragging out slowly before pushing back in with a snap, driving seungmin further up the bed with every movement. 

“love?” felix calls out, and both you and seungmin make a noise. you know that felix was talking to you only when he ignores seungmin completely, continuing to snap his hips, pulling breathy whines from seungmin with every thrust. “will you come here?”

he says it like a question but your body thinks of it as a command as you float over to him, stopping just inches from the bed. felix unfastens seungmin’s wrists from the headboard, keeping them pinned together, and pulls him up. he turns him and wraps his arms around his chest until they are both kneeling upright, flush against one another. his cock remains buried inside of seungmin the whole time and you can’t help but give him a look of impressed approval. he looks pointedly at you and then the space he cleared out in front of seungmin in response, and you flush as you kick off your sweatpants and climb into the bed, laying on your back. 

when did felix learn how to tell you what to do with just a look? you didn’t know where this was coming from, but you loved it. 

felix places seungmin gently onto you with the carefulness that you expected from him on any other day. if it weren’t for him not wanting to crush you with seungmin’s weight, you were sure he would have thrown the younger onto the bed with little to no thought. seungmin settles against you like he belongs there, nuzzling his face into the juncture between your shoulder and your neck, and you can feel how hot his cheeks are against your skin. his cock settles between your thighs, hard and rigid, and you let out a sympathetic hum when felix stops him from rutting up against you. he reaches around seungmin and lines the younger man up against your hole, a little clumsy with his movements, and you can feel his leaking cock twitch against you. 

felix pushes seungmin into you with a snap of his own hips, driving himself deep into seungmin as he gets buried into you in one motion. the moans you and seungmin let out harmonize into the thick air, the scent of sex swirling with the noises in a colorful kaleidoscope. the colors burst into fireworks as felix sets a fast pace, pleasuring the both of you so naturally. 

felix leans past seungmin to kiss you over the younger’s head, and seungmin keens at the sight of it. he’s sandwiched between the two of you, chasing pleasure from every angle, and witnessing the two people he loves most in the world make out on top of him - you’re not sure that he can even think in coherent sentences right now. with his cock surrounded by your tight heat and felix’s own ramming into him, you’re surprised he can even keep his eyes open. you know that this is the moment where he surrenders himself to felix completely. 

you reach your limit faster than you ever have, your clit untouched and throbbing; just the obscene sight of seungmin being used between you and felix is enough to bring you to the brink of pleasure.  

“seung- lix, can’t,” you gasp out, every push of felix’s hips driving seungmin’s cock further into you, making you jolt - it’s too much. 

if it’s too much for you, you can’t imagine what it’s like for seungmin.

you thought that felix would take pity on you and let you finish, too focused on punishing seungmin, but instead he pulls out of the younger man and pulls him out of you with a harsh pull. 

seungmin all but wails at the loss, bucking his hips down onto the mattress. you hadn’t realized how close he was, too lost in your own high, but his brow was pinched and his lips were twisted just right to tell you that he was. 

“please, please,” he begs, flipping himself over to kneel in front of felix. “let me come, please.”

“you think you deserve to after what you did today?” felix looks down at him, eyes cold as ice. your own neglected orgasm was brushed away by the sight of seungmin begging. he was usually too proud to beg, too in control of situations to even need to, but in this moment he was completely helpless to felix’ whims. 

“i’m sorry,” seungmin loses control over the tears brimming in his eyes, fat tears dripping onto his cheeks. “‘m sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to-”

he falls forward into felix’s chest, entire body shaking with his shuddering breaths, and you see felix falter for the first time tonight. he looks at you with slight panic, the coldness melting away into affection towards the man crying into him, and you simply nod at him. you know what to do, you blink. you can do this, you smile. 

“puppy,” felix shushes him, running a hand down seungmin’s spine. “it’s okay. you’re being so good for me now, right? my good boy.”

“‘m good,” seungmin hiccups into felix’s chest, nodding his tears into felix’s skin. 

“you’re sorry, and you’ve been punished, right?” felix coos at him, trailing his blunt fingernails up and down seungmin’s back. “you’re alright.”

“i can come?” seungmin’s words come out nasally from his tears. 

“yes, puppy,” felix moves his thigh so that it’s between seungmin’s legs, trapping his weeping cock against the flexed muscle there. “take what you need.”

seungmin whines out a broken thank you and starts his hips at a rapid pace, chasing the high that he had been denied over and over. you lose count of the sniffles, whines, and moans he lets out, but you can tell exactly when he comes because his entire body seizes and his throat constricts around a high keen. 

felix strokes his back through it, shushing him and pressing gentle kisses to his cheeks and face. you can’t help but smile at the gestures, a little overwhelmed at how naturally felix fell into this rhythm.  your smile freezes when his own turns sharp, and he winks at you before flipping seungmin over and sliding back into him. he pushes seungmin down onto the bed and the push of hot breath he puffs out at the impact hits your forgotten cunt. felix pushes one hand down onto seungmin’s nape as he fucks back into him, chasing his own high and nurturing your own. 

you can feel seungmin’s lips trembling against your core with every thrust, his body pushing up against yours until he’s trapped between your legs. he licks at you un uncoordinated motions, but it’s enough. a few beats of time later, between the harsh slaps of felix’s thighs hitting seungmin’s ass and seungmin reaching up to squeeze his hands around your thighs, you come with a content sigh. your legs tighten around seungmin, keeping him close as your hips jerk against his mouth, and the sounds of felix coming are drowned out by the blood rushing through your ears. 

the next few moments pass by like snapshots, blurred images separated by shocks of camera flutter, and by the time your brain catches up with your body you’re laying down in a new position. your head is pillowed on felix’ chest, him sandwiched between you and seungmin, the latter’s fingers tangled between yours. 

“what the hell just happened,” you blink a few times, jaw almost dropping open when you see the utter contentment on felix’s face. 

“i think i discovered something new,” felix’ voice is languid, rumbling against your ear like a muted symphony. 

“if this is what it takes for you to learn things, we need to piss you off more often,” you tease, teasing a finger around felix’s nipple just to hear him hiss and see the soft glare he sends towards you. like a kitten. 

a puppy and a kitten; what were you going to do with these boys?

“speak for yourself,” seungmin mumbles from felix’s other side, coming back to himself slowly. he glances blearily at you, and his drying tear tracks and red rimmed eyes make him look so incredibly beautiful. “i can’t move a single one of my limbs.”

[ivy-elle]

“This is not gonna happen”

Or: How He Defends/ Protect You

Feat. Albedo, Scaramouche

Albedo

The sunset is already about to start while you hurry through the streets of Mondstadt, trying to avoid any of the Knights of Favonius in case you get talked off by them.

You’re supposed to meet up with Albedo in front of the city to watch the sunset at the cliff – or rather, Albedo wanted to paint and had invited you to keep him company. Only, your work has held you up longer than expected and now you fear Albedo has either gone without you or, poor guy has been waiting all alone by the bridge.

“By Barbatos! Are you completely-“ You come to a shrieking halt at the same moment a middle-aged man stumbles a few steps backwards, clutching his chest in shock.

Swallowing back a curse you hastily squat down to reach for the firewood he dropped in his distress. “I’m so sorry, Simon. Are you alright?”

“Am I-?”

When you glance back up, you’re surprised by how red his face has turned. Perhaps ‘alright’ wouldn’t be a suited term indeed.

“Say, are you out of your mind! How dare you startle me that immensely?”

Slowly, you rise back up, the woods now secure in your arms.

“Have you got not manner – You should be ashamed of yourself!”

While Simon keeps insulting you, you are admittedly a bit taken aback by his sudden outburst. Of course, it’s not nice to be startled out of now where but – no need to act so harsh, right?

But when he keeps raising his voice and is now basically screaming straight into your face, you get back on track and steady yourself, because how dare he just treat you like that?

“Sir, there is no need to shout” you interfere his triage of rage, feeling your own anger rising, “I can hear you quite well. Besides, no huge enough damage has been done to justify losing one’s civil tongue.”

Simon's eyes flash in fury at your words. “Civil tongue? Have you lost the last of your senses? You should be begging for forgiveness for me not to report the incident to the Knights of Favonius.”

Before your frustration gets the chance to slip through your lips in a way less than civilised response, you feel the gentle touch hand on your shoulder.

“Excuse me. Is something the matter here?”

It’s only when you turn and see Albedo at your side, do you also notice some bystanders who have stopped at the commotion and are now exchanging curious glances.

Great. This is gonna be the talk of town tomorrow.

But despite the situation, Albedo’s presence has its usual calm effect upon you, and you feel your anger settle. A bit at least.

Even Simon seems to paddle back and settle down in his current outburst.

Albedo’s eyes find yours, searching for answers he probably already concluded himself. “Are you alright?”

You nod slowly. “I’m alright.”

His eyes sweep over you once more, before he turns to Simon. “Sir, has there any harm come to you or any of your goods?”

Simon huffs, crossing his arms defiantly. “As far as I can tell, the woods are fine.” Only then does he seem to realise you’re still holding said woods in your arms and his eyes dart to you, narrowing. 

As if sensing another upcoming dispute, Albedo subtly steps in front of you, before declaring in his own appeasing and soft-spoken manner, “While I understand your discomposure, Sir,” he states and you notice his voice also contains a certain firmness, “it is not right to treat your opponent with such approach. It will fuel only more ire, and the outcome won’t serve any of the parties.”

You keep your eyes on Simon, watching the different emotions swirl through his face. Anger, frustration, confusion, and then something akin to disappointment. He nods slowly, but also a bit taken aback by Albedo’s calm demeanour, not knowing where to disseminate his emotions now.

Simons huffs again, almost unsure how to react, so he grabs the wood out of your arms, while deliberately avoiding looking at you and grumbles. “Alright, well, uh, I might’ve just lost my nerves there.”

 “I apologise for startling you," you respond to which he nods once, still avoiding your gaze. His eyes dart to Albedo before clutching his wood and stomping off.

Albedo, who notices the bystanders starting to whisper to each other, gently takes your wrist and guides you past the gates, to the outskirts of town.

The sun is already setting as you stroll quietly along the bridge. You feel his hand on the small of your back, gently leading you forwards.

After a while Albedo breaks the silence. “I apologize if I overstepped by interfering in the dispute. But I did not appreciate the way Simon talked to you, let alone reacted to the incident.”

“I think you handled it fairly eloquent.” A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you glance at him from the side. “The People of Mondstadt are all prone to temper their anger at your demeanour. You’re quite liked among them.”

Albedo gives a soft, amused huff, meeting your eyes. “My dear, I believe you are merely biased in that matter.”

Scaramouche

“With all due respect, Ma’am, but I’ve already been assigned a different role for this mission.”

Your superior Nomura regards you with a sharp look – not even your averted eyes could alleviate the goosebumps crawling down your skin.

“We’ve established this change of plan to be the best strategy, Agent. Are you refusing your duty?”

“No, Ma’am.” You cross your arms formally behind your back, trying to keep your frustration at bay. It’s not unusual for you to be subjected to whatever hell she offers, but normally she at least knows to inform you in an appropriate timing about something as important as that.

“However, I would require time to assess the new circumstances and gather the needed information.”

Nomura tightens her lips as if she’s annoyed by your presence alone. “That won’t be necessary. We do not have the time, and I believe your skills to be sufficient to assess the situation when it arises. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Again, you keep your voice neutral and expression unbothered while you watch her return to the rest of the divisions, which are waiting by the river.

Archons, why couldn’t Nomura inform you earlier? But alas. At least she has trust in your skills.

You huff quietly to yourself as you head to your new division, however Scaramouche’s sudden presence next to you holds you back. How can this man be so fast all the time?

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Even though Scaramouche outranks your Superior – and following that logic you as well – by a long shot, you feel your posture loosen up almost immediately. A familiar calm settling down your bones.

“I am off to act as a scout at the front. To make certain, the area is clear.”

Scaramouche’s eyebrow arch at that “You’re tasked with reconnaissance?”

“Not quite,” you explain, trying to overplay your irritation, but failing miserably. “I’m to remain there until the rest of the division arrives.”

Almost instantly his expression hardens, knowing the dangers and risks of that position. “Who distributed these roles? And more importantly - why have I not been informed?”

You cross your arms in front of you, suddenly feeling like you have to defend yourself in some sort. “It was a last-minute change. I was also informed just now.”

“Are they truly that incapable of decent strategizing? How utterly predictable.”

He lets out a slow, disdainful sigh before he flicks his gaze over to you. “And just so you get this straight, you will certainly not go.”

“What?”

“Are you deaf?” He scoffs and adjusts his collar, feigning nonchalance. “I will not risk my agent for some stupid reconnaissance task. You will remain at my side at the front, as it was originally planned and where your skills are suited best.”

The tone of his voice makes clear there’s no room for discussion left and yet you take a deliberate step closer to him.

“Scara,” you say, wanting to make sure no misconception remains, “this mission needs scouts to clear the area. I can manage that by myself if needed.”

“We’ll manage without scouts.” Scaramouche lets his gaze linger a moment too long, then his eyes narrow. “Or are you questioning my leadership?”

You huff. “This is ridiculous. My role isn’t that important to risk an entire mission for.”

The hardness in his eyes melts away and then he turns to the side, as if suddenly bored of the conversation.

“It is to me.”

Scaramouche keeps his gaze focused on the forest. His voice devoid of any emotion, merely an irritated frown has settled between his browns. “And now shut it, we’re heading off. I’ll handle your superior.”

[seongwars]

strangers by nature | vi

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Rating: NC-17 Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 6.6K Warnings: angst, character d*ath, attacks on animals, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of mental health, only half proofread, use of crude language

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a/n: it hurt me to write this chapter 😭

You weren’t particularly close to your father. His life revolved around his work—the family business he hadn’t wanted but had accepted out of obligation when your uncles, San and Jongho’s fathers, stepped aside, unwilling to subject their sons to the challenges of running a conglomerate.

Sometimes you wished he had done the same too. 

He was often away, traveling to meet clients or locked in endless board meetings. He wasn’t the type of man to swoop in with comforting words or a warm embrace. Instead, he listened without interrupting, nodded without judgment, and spoke only when he felt it was necessary. Despite the distance between you, his steady presence had a way of making you feel oddly secure.

And maybe that was why, as you paced the length of your penthouse, you found yourself dialing his number. Mingi followed your every move, his small body glued to your side. He kept glancing up at you, occasionally tripping you with how close he was.

“Come on, pick up, pick up…” You muttered to yourself. Your pacing carried you in a loop—through the kitchen, into the dining room you barely used, and then into the living room. Then, you wandered back into the kitchen, your footsteps quickening with every unanswered ring.

“Y/N?”

Your shoulders sagged in relief, and you stopped pacing, planting yourself in the middle of the kitchen as Mingi bumped up against your ankles. 

“Dad!”

“Is everything alright?”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening slightly around the phone. How were you supposed to explain everything that had transpired the last few weeks without sounding unhinged? 

What were you even supposed to say? Hi, Dad. Quick question: Are you sure the woman you’re married to is actually my mother?

Your parents’ marriage had always seemed like a curious thing to you. It was a product of an arrangement. Yet, over the years, your father’s quiet gestures of affection seemed to keep your mother content, even happy.

Surely, he couldn’t have had an affair.

The idea felt absurd, but then again, you’d always felt like a stranger in your own home, an outsider looking in at a family that didn’t quite seem to know where you fit.

“I-I need to talk to you about something. I didn’t want to call mom because…you know how she gets.”

Your mother had a flair for theatrics, a tendency to turn even the smallest inconvenience into a grand production. If you’d called her instead, the situation would have escalated before you even finished explaining. 

“What’s going on?”

“I…” You faltered for a moment, running a hand through your hair before continuing your train of thought.

“There’s this woman who I think has been stalking me. A friend of mine was dogsitting Maro when she approached him at the park.” Your voice dropped slightly, recounting your conversation with Yeosang. 

“She recognized Maro…and referred to me as her daughter.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you took a moment to crouch down and stroke Mingi’s fur as he leaned into your side. 

“I don’t know who she is,” you admitted softly. “But…something about her felt wrong. And it’s been bothering me ever since.”

“Did she hurt you or Maro?”

“No, but she tried to abduct a little girl a few weeks ago. We stopped her and she fled.”

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me carefully,” he said, his tone suddenly firm. 

You froze mid-step, his words rooting you in place. “Okay,” you said hesitantly, your voice small.

“I need you to stay put,” he continued. “Don’t do anything or go anywhere, especially not alone. I’m going to call the lawyers and have them review the court order and police files.”

“Court order?” you repeated, confusion rising in your chest. “What are you talking about?”

“Call either San or Jongho,” he said instead, his tone softening just enough to sound like a plea. 

“Let them know I’ve asked one of them to stay with you until we sort this out.”

“Dad, what court order?” you pressed, gripping the phone tighter as your heart raced. 

Mingi, sensing your distress, pawed at you insistently, his soft whines urging you to sit down. But you couldn’t move, couldn’t tear your focus away from the ominous edge in your father’s voice.

“There was an incident when you were three. If she is who I think she is, she’s someone we dealt with a long time ago.”

“Who?”

“Your former nanny,” he admitted, his voice steady but grim. “She tried to take you,” he said bluntly. 

“At first, she seemed fine. Kind, attentive, everything you’d want for a child. But things started escalating. Your mother noticed something was off right after she lost her own daughter in an accident. She’d grown too attached to you. Too possessive. We let her go, but before we could take any legal action, she attempted to abduct you.”

“She tried to kidnap me?”

“She managed to evade security at first. It was like any other day. But by the time we realized what was happening, she was already on her way to the airport with you.” 

The room spun, and before you realized it, you had sunk to the floor. The color drained from your face as the weight of the revelation hit you. Mingi froze, his small body going still as he struggled to process the gravity of what he was hearing.  

He let out a soft whine, curling closer to you. He hadn’t fully understood your fears, the reasons behind your walls, the way panic sometimes overtook you without warning.

Now, as a dog, powerless to do anything but sit beside you, the weight of guilt felt almost unbearable.

“We caught her in time,” he continued quickly, his tone shifting, as if trying to calm you. 

“She didn’t make it far. Security intercepted her at the gate just as she was preparing to board a flight. We filed charges immediately and she was arrested.”

“But?” you scoffed. “Your money and influence couldn’t keep her behind bars?”

“We didn’t think she’d ever get out, Y/N. The charges were serious, and the evidence was solid. At the time, we were assured she’d be locked away for decades.” He hesitated, and for a moment, you thought you heard his voice waver. 

“You were so young. We didn’t want to burden you with something you wouldn’t even remember. We thought we could protect you from it all.”

“So much for power,” you muttered bitterly, rubbing your temples. “She seems to be escalating. She’s openly trying to kidnap children now. Who knows what else she’s capable of?”

Your father’s sigh was heavy. “Which is why you’re not to go anywhere alone, Y/N. Not until this is resolved.”

“Dad—”

“I’ll be increasing the security presence around the penthouse as well. And before you ask, yes, I'll be coordinating with Mingi’s family to ensure their resources are aligned with ours.”

The mention of your in-laws made your stomach twist. They were probably unaware of the situation, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. You could already imagine your mother-in-law spinning the story to her social circle about her damsel of a daughter-in-law and how her poor son was unable to save her. The thought of being the centerpiece of their gossip left you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“Make sure there’s a secure presence at the hospital too,” you said, cutting in before the conversation could linger on your in-laws. 

“She might try something there.”

Your father arched a brow. He knew you didn’t particularly like being married to Mingi—he wasn’t blind to the strain in your relationship. Truthfully, he regretted agreeing to the arrangement in the first place. He’d witnessed firsthand the coldness with which Mingi had treated you, most notably the way he’d rebuffed your birthday gathering that first year of marriage. It had been a bitter reminder that not all alliances were worth the price they came with.

But upon hearing your request, it made him realize that you had always been kinder, and more compassionate than those around him. While he had always seemed distant, caught up in his own world of business and power, moments like these reminded him that you had grown into someone he was proud of. Someone who cared, even for those who didn’t deserve it.

“Is there anything else that you need?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“No,” you replied, shaking your head slightly. “But I’m not going to live in fear forever. She doesn’t get to have that power over me.”

“I don’t expect you to. I just want you to be safe.”

The line disconnected and you set the phone down, your hand lingering on it for a moment before turning back to Mingi. You felt a surge of emotions–anger, frustration, fear, and a flicker of determination. 

But when you saw him sitting patiently on the floor, watching you intently with his big eyes, fluffy ears, and wrinkled nose, everything inside you softened. The weight of the world seemed to melt away in that moment, and your heart ached with affection. 

“You’re so cute, I can’t stand it,” you squealed, the intensity of your emotions spilling out in a completely unexpected way. 

Without thinking, you scooped him into your arms, pressing your face against his soft fur as you swayed back and forth with him. Mingi melted into your embrace, his small body going limp as he relished your warmth. 

“I just want to squish you!” you exclaimed, giggling as you kissed him between the ears. 

Mingi let out a soft, rumbling growl, not out of annoyance but because he didn’t know how else to respond to the flood of emotions washing over him. If only you knew how deeply he wanted to protect you, not just as a dog, but as the man who had failed to see your worth for far too long.

“I should probably text the group chat,” you murmured, reaching for your phone while balancing Mingi securely in your other arm.

[Y/N]: My dad said I can have a sleepover

[Grumpy Bear]: fuck yeah

[Mountain Mayne]: Can Kira come too?”

[Y/N]: Only Kira, you stay home

⋆

Mingi found himself scowling, scooped up in San’s arms, as the four of you lounged in your living room, covered in mountains of blankets, pillows, and snacks. He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up in this situation, but he was definitely not thrilled when your cousins and San’s fiancée came crashing into the penthouse after you summoned them with a single text.

“Why isn’t the dog distribution system working for us?” San asked, holding Mingi out toward Kira like he was some kind of offering. Mingi shot him a glare, but the effect was somewhat lost given his tiny size and the way his fur poofed up around his face.

“Because we already have three cats at home,” she replied, chomping on a piece of cheese without looking up from her phone. San sighed dramatically, pulling Mingi back to cradle him like a baby. 

“Don’t worry, Maro, I'll save you from your owner and her evil husband.”

Mingi bristled, his fur puffing out even more. He barked indignantly, but it only made San laugh as he nuzzled Mingi’s fluffy face.

“Yeah, if the evil husband ever wakes up,” Jongho snorted from under his fortress of blankets. 

The room fell silent, save for the faint sound of Howl’s Moving Castle playing in the background. Mingi froze, his small body tensing in San’s arms. His ears flattened against his head as Jongho’s words echoed in his mind. 

Sure, he hadn’t been a perfect husband. He wasn’t even sure he’d been a good one. But…evil?

“Oh come on, that’s not fair,” you replied, albeit with an edge to your tone. 

“What?” Jongho raised his hands defensively, his expression a mix of guilt and awkwardness. 

“It was a joke. I mean, come on, the guy cheated, publicly humiliated you… you can do so much better, Y/N.”

“I know a good divorce lawyer,” Kira added, waving her phone as if the solution to your problems was just a call away. 

The truth of their words clawed at Mingi, a painful reminder of everything he’d done wrong. He wanted to bark, to growl, to defend himself, but what could he even say? That they were wrong? They weren’t. Not completely.

You inhaled sharply, your lips pressing into a thin line as you plopped down next to San. He glanced at you, but you ignored it, your focus entirely on the small dog curled stiffly in his arms.

“I get it,” you said finally, your voice clipped as you reached out and gently plucked Maro out of your cousin’s arms. He went still in your hold, his small body tensing as he waited for what you’d say next.

“Mingi has his own problems, but right now, he doesn’t have anyone in his corner. I don’t know what will happen when he wakes up, but it’s not fair to say things like that when he’s not here.” You cradled him closer, your touch instinctively protective as if shielding him from their judgement. 

Jongho exhaled loudly, his earlier confidence deflating as he sank deeper into the pile of blankets. “Fair point,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. That was out of line.”

Mingi stayed silent, nestled in your arms, his mind racing. You could have left him at the hospital. You could have walked away, started over. Hell, maybe you should have. You could have even entertained the thought of dating Seonghwa, or Yeosang, or anyone else. Anyone but him.

But you hadn’t.

You spent countless nights in that hospital room, talking to him, even when he couldn’t say anything back. You stood up for him, even now, when he didn’t deserve it.

Mingi could picture it so clearly: someone else making you laugh, someone else holding your hand, someone else seeing the best parts of you. 

Maybe they were right, he thought bitterly. Maybe you really could do better. 

But even if that was true, he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. Not when there was still a sliver of hope that he might wake up, make amends, and find a way back to being the man you once believed he could be.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” you announced, rising to your feet with an exaggerated stretch. “It’s way past bedtime.”

“I’ll stay here,” San declared. “In case your stalker tries anything.”

“Good for you, honey,” Kira patted his shoulder. “But I’m going into one of the guest rooms because that’s what sane people do.”

“You’ve got this covered,” Jongho muttered sleepily, dragging himself out of the blanket pile. He stretched with a loud yawn and shuffled toward his room without even waiting for a reply.

“We’re supposed to be in this together,” San grumbled, throwing a pillow halfheartedly at Jongho’s retreating figure. It missed by a wide margin, flopping harmlessly to the floor.

As you slipped into your room, the shift was immediate. The air turned quiet and soft, a reprieve from the playful chaos outside. You closed the door gently and set Mingi down on the bed, his fluffy body sinking into the plush comforter.

He sat perfectly still, watching you move around the room. You pulled back the covers on your side of the bed and fluffed the pillows before finally settling in.

Patting the space beside you, you called softly, “Time for bed.”

He padded over, his small paws making barely a sound as he climbed onto the blankets and curled up near your side. When he tucked his nose into the crook of your neck, you giggled.

“I love you. Night night, puppy,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

As you drifted off to sleep, Mingi stayed awake, tracing the gentle slope of your nose to the soft curve of your lips. It all seemed so fleeting, like everything could slip away in the blink of an eye. 

He sighed softly, rolling onto his back and then to his side again, unable to find a comfortable position. San’s snores rumbled faintly through the door, a reminder of the others nearby. But Mingi’s mind was too restless to relax.

His mind drifted to his last task: What did it mean to offer you happiness without expecting anything in return?

Isn’t it about giving you what you wanted? Protecting you, making you laugh, or ensuring you were never alone? But the more he thought about it, the more complicated it became.

How could he possibly give you that when so much of his past had been spent hurting you?

He remembered the times he’d chosen his own pride over your feelings, the cruel words he couldn’t take back, the moments he’d walked away when you needed him most. He had made you feel small, like you were the one who didn’t belong, the one who wasn’t good enough for him, all while he continued living his life while you were left to pick up the pieces of your own. 

“You’re home all the time, don’t you have any friends?”

Your response had been blunt, cold, almost dismissive. 

“No, they’re dead.”

That was all you said to him. No explanation, just a heavy finality that left him speechless. He didn’t know what it meant then, but now, looking back, it felt like a confession, a glimpse into a part of you that was buried beneath the walls you’d built to protect yourself after losing Hongjoong.  

Kim Hongjoong, the ghost of a man who had never left your heart. The man who had held a place there long before Mingi had even existed in your life. And in that moment, jealousy crept in. It was sharp, bitter, the thought of losing you to a ghost threatening to consume him.

He hated that Hongjoong would always carry that piece of your heart he couldn’t touch, a piece that belonged to someone who had once been your everything. Because in this moment, Mingi, more than anything, coveted that place in your heart. 

No matter how much he tried to remind himself that he was here, that he was now, it didn’t quell the sense of inadequacy growing within him. He couldn’t love you with the expectation of erasing your past or taking what wasn’t his to have.

If he was to prove himself, to earn his humanity, it couldn’t be about him. It had to come from a place of selflessness. He had to love you for who you were, even if it meant living in the shadow of a ghost. Even if it meant never being able to fully claim a place in your heart.

Even if it might mean accepting that some parts of you could never belong to him, no matter how much he wanted them to. And as painful as that truth was, Mingi knew it was the only way forward.

He nestled into your side, his fluffy form fitting snugly against you as he placed a paw against your nose. The steady rise and fall of your chest soothed him, reminding him that he was yours, even if it was only as Maro. 

“I’m so bored,” you groaned, hanging your head over the back of the couch dramatically. The ceiling wasn’t particularly interesting, but you were so desperate for stimulation that you started counting the corners of the crown molding.

Kira glanced over from the kitchen, her brow furrowing in concentration as she whisked a bowl of batter with a bit too much vigor. 

“You should try being useful. Come help me bake.”

“I’d rather be anywhere but here,” you muttered, sliding further down the couch until you were almost horizontal. “I’ve seen every corner of this penthouse.” 

“Drama queen,” she said lightly. “You’re safe here. That’s what matters. And besides, I thought you’d enjoy the time off.”

“Time off from what?”

“I don’t know? The hospital? The back and forth must be draining.”

You hummed in response, though that was all you could muster. Draining wasn’t quite the word for it. It was true the days spent at the hospital had a way of blurring together, but you didn’t mind staying there. In some strange way, it felt right.

At the hospital, you had a routine. You’d arrive in the evening, lay on the sofa and stare out into nothingness. Sometimes you’d read, talk to him about trivial things, or just sit quietly, the hum of the monitors filling the silence. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A way to show him that he wasn’t alone, even if he couldn’t respond.

Because deep down, you knew he needed someone on his side.

It wasn’t easy to admit, even to yourself, but a part of you still held out hope for reconciliation. Not the fairytale kind, where everything magically resolved and all wounds were healed, but something quieter. A mutual understanding, perhaps. A moment where he’d open up, even just a little, and let you see the person behind all the walls he’d built.

You knew he was hurting. You’d always known, even when he tried to mask it with anger or indifference. His actions, the coldness, the distance, the biting remarks, were all symptoms of something deeper.  

But there was another part of you, a quieter voice that you couldn’t ignore. The part that braced for no change at all. That prepared for the possibility that when, if, he woke up, he’d still be the same person he was before. That he’d still look at you like you were the problem, the obstacle, the thing standing in the way of his happiness.

That part of you longed for freedom.

You’d spent so much time tangled up in his chaos, in his pain, that you’d almost forgotten what it felt like to just...be.

Maybe, if and when he woke up, he’d be willing to part ways. And maybe that would be for the best.

“I ran out of eggs!”

You blinked, momentarily disoriented. “What?”

“Eggs!” she repeated, holding up the empty carton. “I can’t believe I forgot them. I’m halfway through making this cake, and now I have to stop everything to run to the store.”

“I’ll go with you!” you said quickly, standing up from the couch so fast you nearly tripped over your own feet.

Kira froze, narrowing her eyes at you. “You know you’re not supposed to leave.”

“And you’re supposed to be at the courthouse, but here you are, baking a cake for a man.”

“First of all, it’s called paid time off,” she replied, narrowing her eyes further. “Secondly, San’s stroke game is top tier.”

“Oh my God, stop!” you cut her off, throwing your hands up. 

“I do not want to hear about your sex life with my cousin. He used to eat mud as a kid.”

Kira rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. “Anyway,” she continued, “your dad would absolutely kill me. He gave strict orders to keep you here. And unlike you, I actually follow them.”

“Come on, Kira,” you pleaded. Your eyes landed on Maro, lounging nearby. You scooped him up in one swift motion, holding him up like a fluffy shield. 

“Even Maro thinks it’s a good idea!”

Mingi tilted his head, his dark eyes widening as he gave Kira his best impression of a sad, helpless puppy.

“Look at him. He’s begging you.”

Kira groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is ridiculous.”

“It’s a quick trip. Five minutes, tops,” you promised, your tone bordering on desperate. “I won’t go anywhere, I’ll stay by your side the entire time!”

She sighed, clearly wavering. “Fine.”

The ding of the store’s bell announced your arrival, and the comforting smell of fried food from the deli counter made your stomach grumble. Kira grabbed a basket, striding purposefully toward the back where the eggs were stashed.

“Eggs,” she said firmly, shooting you a warning glance over her shoulder.

“Got it,” you replied, though your eyes immediately wandered to the chip aisle.

The small store was quiet, almost unnervingly still, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. As you followed Kira, your gaze flicked around the store—a habit you’d picked up recently without fully realizing it. Your shoulders tensed, the faint prickling sensation at the back of your neck making you feel exposed. It was probably nothing, you told yourself, trying to brush it off.

Kira tossed a carton of eggs into the basket and turned to you with a raised brow. “Anything else?”

Her voice startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You blinked, momentarily disoriented, before grabbing a bag of chips from a nearby rack and a pack of chocolate-covered pretzels from the next shelf over.

“Alright, ready!” you chirped. 

The cashier rang up your items without much fuss, and soon you were both on your way. But as the store door clicked shut behind you, that sense of discomfort returned. You glanced over your shoulder, your movements slow and deliberate, as if any sudden motion might draw unwanted attention.

Your eyes darted to the empty street ahead, scanning the familiar buildings and darkened windows. It looked deserted, but the nagging feeling told you otherwise.

“You okay?” Kira asked, noticing your hesitation.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, the word tumbling out a little too fast. You forced a smile, hoping it looked convincing. 

You told yourself it was nothing, a stray thought feeding your paranoia. But as you turned the corner toward your apartment, your worst fears materialized. A shadow detached itself from the side of a building ahead, stepping into the weak glow of the nearest streetlamp. Your stomach dropped, and your chest tightened when you noticed the glint of the knife in hand. 

“Y/N.”

Your stalker. Your former nanny. 

Kira froze beside you, her posture immediately tense. Her free hand twitched toward her phone, but her other gripped your arm tightly, as if anchoring you in place. You shook her off with a small, almost imperceptible gesture, your lips moving silently to form the words: Call San.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t argue. She stepped back, her movements careful as she pulled her phone from her pocket.

“Hey…mom,” you said, your voice trembling but just steady enough to hold its own. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but it was all you could think of to buy yourself time.

The woman’s head tilted, her expression softening into something disturbingly tender. “Oh, my sweet Y/N,” she cooed, taking a step closer. 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long,” she continued. “You’ve grown so much. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

The delusion in her voice sent ice down your spine. She didn’t just see you as a person. You were a possession—something she believed she owned.

“It’s been a while,” you said cautiously, keeping your tone light, though your hands trembled at your sides. 

“What…what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to take you home!”

“Right…home,” you repeated, your stomach churning at the word. You took a step back, careful to keep your movements slow and nonthreatening. 

“Why don’t we go for a walk and catch up? I just ate, and walking helps with digestion. Did you know that?”

The woman blinked, her head tilting further to the side. For a moment, she seemed caught off guard by the suggestion.

“A walk?” she echoed, suspicion flickering across her face before fading into hesitant curiosity. “You want to spend time with me?”

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “O-Of course! I mean, it’s been so long, right? We have so much to talk about.”

Behind you, Kira moved as quietly as possible, her phone pressed to her ear as she whispered into the receiver. The nanny walked ahead, still clutching the knife tightly in her hand as your figures disappeared into the darkness.

⋆

Mingi paced restlessly around the penthouse, his claws clicking softly against the floor. His tail flicked with agitation, and his ears twitched, straining to catch a sound that wasn’t there. Something felt wrong—deeply, inexplicably wrong. You were only supposed to be gone with Kira for five  minutes. 

But those five minutes had turned to an hour. 

The door to the penthouse slammed open, and Jongho burst inside, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. His face was pale and his brow furrowed deeply as he listened to the voice on the other end.

“Yes, I’m here now,” he said hurriedly, his tone clipped and tense. Mingi froze mid-step, his ears flicking forward as Jongho’s words sank in. Looking for you? His heart dropped. Did something happen to you?

“I’ll stay here in case she comes back. Yes, San and Kira are out looking for her along with law enforcement.”

Mingi’s nose twitched, catching the faint remnants of Jongho’s scent. There was something else mingled with it—the sharp tang of fear. A shiver ran down his spine. Jongho wasn’t scared for himself; he was scared for you.

In his frenzy, Jongho forgot to shut the door completely. It clicked behind him, but the latch didn’t catch, leaving it slightly ajar as he retreated further into the penthouse. 

Mingi knew you were most definitely scared, but were relying on your wit to keep your abductor as distracted for as long as possible. But it could only go so far. You needed help. You needed him.

He darted after Jongho, letting out a short, sharp yip that made him turn with a frown.

“Maro?” Jongho’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Mingi barked again, more insistent this time. He jumped in place, then headbutted Jongho's leg with surprising force, urging him toward the hallway. When Jongho still didn’t move, Mingi let out a sharp yip, trotted to the door, and paused to bark over his shoulder. Come on, follow me!

Out in the hallway, Mingi’s incessant barking continued until Jongho relented, reaching out to push the call button for the elevator. 

Jongho stared down at the little dog, confusion etched across his face. “Why are you so interested in the elevator?” 

Mingi stayed silent in an attempt to get this timing right. Then, as soon as the doors began to close, he darted forward, squeezing inside at the last second. Jongho blinked, momentarily stunned, before the realization hit him.

“I just…got played by a dog.”

Outside, Mingi paused just long enough to pick up your scent on the breeze. Darting forward, Mingi weaved through the bustling crowd, his small frame slipping unnoticed between legs and around obstacles. His nose twitched, staying locked on the trail, as he took off into the night with the promise of finding you

“I’m coming,” he whispered under his breath, to keep himself moving. His legs burned, and his lungs ached, but he didn’t stop.

Your nanny stood a few feet away, as you guided her to a nearby park. Her body taut with a kind of unnatural stillness. Her expression was deceptively calm, but her eyes gleamed with something unhinged.

“How have you been? You’re married right? I see the ring on your finger.”

Your fingers twitched involuntarily, brushing against the cool platinum of your wedding band. It felt heavier than usual under her scrutinizing gaze. “I am,” you replied, keeping your tone calm and steady despite the way your stomach churned.

“Almost three years now.”

“Three years? That’s wonderful. What’s your husband like? Oh, I’d love to meet him!”

“Unfortunately, he’s on a business trip overseas. B-But when he comes back, maybe we could have dinner.”

Her smile stretched impossibly wider, her eyes glinting with a strange light as she clasped her hands together. “Dinner? Oh, how wonderful! Just like old times!”

“Y-Yeah, just like old times. You, me, um, Mingi and…dad.”

“Dad?” she echoed, her voice hollow and strained. “Your father?”

The moment the word "Dad" left your lips, her expression darkened and her grip on the knife tightened, turning her knuckles white as the blade trembled in her hand.

“No! Not him! Not while he’s married to that bitch!” she spat venomously. 

“You know, his wife didn’t love you like I did! She didn’t raise you! She wasn’t there for you!”

Her face twisted with fury, her voice rising as she screamed. “She left you behind! Do you remember that? Do you? She didn’t care about you! She abandoned you—threw you away like trash! But me? I stayed. I cared. I’m your family!”

Mingi’s ears perked up at the sound of that voice. It was her—the same woman who had tried to abduct Yena weeks ago. A low growl rumbled in his throat, but he forced his down, shifting his focus to the sights and sounds around him. In the distance, he caught fragments of Kira’s raised voice, as she argued with the District Attorney.

“She should never have been released!” 

“Her delusions weren’t just untreated, they were escalating. And instead of following protocol, the facility discharged her prematurely without an appropriate plan in place.”

Mingi’s ears flicked toward the sound as Kira’s voice grew louder, her pace quickening.

“The ruling was explicit! The family was to be notified of any changes in her care plan. But no one was! And now she’s out here, putting Y/N in danger!”

The echoes of Kira’s tirade faded into the background as Mingi tuned everything else out, his focus narrowing to a single goal. Find you. Protect you.

She won’t hurt you. I won’t let her, he promised. 

You swallowed hard, your mind racing as you searched for the right words to diffuse the situation. “You’re right,” you said gently, taking a slow step forward as your eyes stayed locked on the blade.

“I should’ve done more to stay in touch. You were important to me, and I didn’t show that the way I should have.”

Mingi crept closer, staying low and moving with careful precision. His small frame blended with the shadows cast by the trees, his paws silent against the ground. His ears were pinned back as he watched the stalker. For a split second, her grip on the knife faltered. Her expression softened, dimming into something more fragile, almost childlike.

But then her face contorted again. “You’re lying!” she screamed, taking a step toward you. 

“You don’t mean that! You’re just saying that to make me go away.” She took a step closer, the knife jerking with her erratic movements.

His nose twitched, catching the faint scent of your fear mingled with her unbridled rage. Her emotions were spiraling out of control, and with every step she took, the gap between you and danger grew smaller.

“I’m not,” you said firmly, taking a careful step backwards. 

“I mean it. You were there for me when I needed someone, and I want to be here for you now. But I can’t do that if you don’t trust me.”

She hesitated, the knife wavering slightly in her grip. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed like your words might be getting through.

Mingi inched closer, his eyes tracking her trembling hand, and his body tensed, ready to spring.

“You’ll leave me again! Just like her!”

That was his cue. With a burst of speed, Mingi darted forward, his small body a blur of motion. His sharp teeth clamped down on her ankle, eliciting a startled cry. She stumbled, but her fury only intensified. She lashed out blindly, her hand sweeping through the air, the knife flashing dangerously.

“Maro!” you screamed. 

Without hesitation, you lunged forward, your heart pounding as you reached for her wrist. Your grip was firm, fueled by adrenaline and sheer determination as you kicked her back, sending her stumbling slightly. With a swift motion, you scooped Mingi into your arms, cradling him against your chest.

As she steadied herself, her arm swung wildly and you raised your arm to shield Mingi. The knife sliced through your forearm leaving streaks of blood, but you didn’t let go, tightened your hold on him as you focused on the woman in front of you.

“I’m sorry you lost your daughter,” you began, your tone water as you tried to bite back the pain radiating down your arm.  

“I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been carrying, or how much it’s changed you. I’m sure whatever happened broke you in ways no one can see. But trying to replace her won’t bring her back.”

You could see the tears threatening to spill over, but they did nothing to soften her. If anything, they seemed to fuel her anger. Her grip on the knife tightened as she took a shaky step toward you. Your heart pounded and Mingi whimpered softly, pressing his small body closer to yours, and you instinctively held him tighter, bracing yourself.

“Police! Drop your weapon!” 

“Y/N!” your dad’s voice rang out. You turned your head just enough to see him running toward you, San and Kira close behind, flanked by a group of police officers.

The stalker froze, her head snapping toward the source of the commotion. Her grip on the knife faltered, and for a split second, you thought she might comply. But then her face contorted with fury once more, and she tightened her hold, her body tensing as if preparing to lunge.

“Stay back!” she screamed, her voice shrill and panicked.

The officers fanned out, their weapons drawn, their voices calm but firm as they repeated their commands. “Drop the knife! Put it down now!”

Your dad reached you first, his hand gripping your shoulder as he stepped slightly in front of you. “Are you hurt?” he asked urgently, his sharp eyes taking in the blood streaking down your arm and the puppy trembling in your hold.

“She cut me,” you admitted, glancing at the blood streaking down your arm. “It’s not deep, but—” You shifted Mingi slightly in your hold, cradling him closer. 

Mingi let out a soft, sleepy sigh, his head resting heavily against your chest as your dad checked you over. His breaths came slower now, each one softer than the last. His little paws twitched as though he were trying to cling to you.

His mind wandered, a hazy string of thoughts pulling him along. He couldn’t wait to go home, to finally feel safe and warm. He imagined curling up in your lap, nuzzling into your arms while you stroked his fur. He thought about Hetmon and all the running around they’re going to do at the park.

Oh, and snacks, he thought sleepily. Lots of snacks. His little tail gave a faint twitch at the thought, but even that felt like too much effort now.

Just a nap, he thought. I’ll rest for a bit, then we’ll go home. We’ll be okay.

When Mingi woke, the air around him was...different. It wasn’t the plush sheets of your bed or the soft pillow he’d grown accustomed to sleeping on. Instead, he found himself in a small, cozy basket lined with a soft cushion, placed near a gently crackling fireplace. 

He blinked, his vision adjusting to the soft light streaming through the windows of a small cottage. The space was intimate, with wooden walls lined with shelves overflowing with books, plants, and stacks of parchment. The scent of tea and ink hung in the air, faint but familiar, tugging at something deep in Mingi’s memory.

The atmosphere was comforting, nostalgic even, though Mingi couldn’t quite place why. 

“Ah,” the man said, his lips curling into a soft smile. “You’re finally awake.”

Mingi’s ears perked up as he turned toward the sound. A man crouched next to him–his features were sharp but his expression was soft and kind. Mingi tilted his head, his ears twitching as he studied the man. He’d never met him before, but his scent was unmistakable. 

It was audacious and bold, much like the jazz notes he remembered sitting on the piano back at home. 

Kim Hongjoong?

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[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

say yes to heaven

how spencer and you deal (or don't deal) with the fact that he doesn’t want a baby anymore after coming home from prison, and you really do.

MDNI | angst

word count: 2226 warnings & tags & stuff: bau!reader, avoidant!reader, avoidant spencer, no happy ending (wtf), reader wants a baby, one line about reader not having a certain religious belief, they like almost have sex, spencer undresses reader, lots of talk about a condom, they dont really fight at all?, very underdeveloped/bad description of quantum immortality author's note: heyyyyy guyss whats up..... this is a different vibe to my regular stuff and i fear it may be really ooc?? i don't know how to feel but i literally have to post or i'll go even more crazy sooo here we are!! have a delightful day, let me know your thoughts if you have any, ily!!!

Antique shops, you and Spencer have decided, are the hidden gems of this nation yet to be appreciated enough by the general public. 

Each town or city you visit is bound to have one, and going to them has become a little celebratory tradition. In the early mornings after cases are solved, right before the plane ride home, you take a look around. You’re typically the first and only ones in the store, wandering with intertwined hands and sipping on ‘2 extra foamy cappuccinos with an additional shot of espresso, please’ and occasionally, but not necessarily, choosing something to take back to D.C.

You’ve been trying your absolute hardest to fill your home to the brim– sometimes with objects, and other times with words, or touch, or the ever so valuable and fleeting concept of shared time– in effort to replace what had been lost in that three month long period when it was completely devoid of tangible, fresh love.

It’s today you’re wandering through a quaint, very cluttered shop in western Oregon, the Pacific visible from the store’s windows. 

Wheels up in an hour. Don’t be late. Hotch’s text buzzes in your pocket, but you barely glance at it– there’s something about the Oregon coast that reaches into your heart and gives it a gentle massage, enveloping you in a refreshing lack of urgency.

Spencer, in his own peaceful world, is staring at a tall wall of books. He reaches out to pick up a dusty rendition of Moby Dick, carefully cracking it open to the first few pages to check the publication date, brow scrunching as he reads. You go to peer over his arm to check as well, when something catches the corner of your eye. You let go of his hand to inspect.

A bassinet. Dark wood, surface polished to a faint sheen, with intricate little waves engraved on the sides, like the ocean’s misty outreach had come all the way into the shop and placed this here for you to see. 

You weren’t exactly sure when this now familiar ache had started; this deep, internal desire felt in your stomach for a little hand to be gripped around your pointer and for tiny onesies to fill your laundry basket, but you’re sure, with every fiber of your being, that you want it to be there.

“Spence,” you say softly, voice jarring in the otherwise stillness of the shop. “Come look.” He carefully closes the book and puts it back where it was and pads over, looking down at the bassinet. His eyebrows raise slightly.

“Wow. It looks like it was made in the 80s, maybe even earlier. You won’t find any level of detailing more recently than that, it’s too labor intensive for modern production methods. Good find.”

“I know. Should we get it?” you ask, biting a smile. He quickly meets your eyes, brow raising slightly.

“Do you want to?” he asks, voice even.

“I mean, I just think it’s really cute, with the waves and stuff.” you say bashfully, nudging it with your toe so it rocks back and forth. Spencer swallows, adam's apple bobbing.

“Yeah, I just…” Spencer hesitates. “I don't think we’d be able to bring it on the jet. It would probably snap in half if we held it in the wrong way,” he says, making your brain race even though he hasn’t said a single thing that should cause it to do so.

“Oh.”

You blink.

“No, yeah, you’re totally right. It’s too inconvenient. You should get that copy of Moby Dick instead. That edition looked cool, with the forward explaining all the names,” you say gently, pushing a smile, nudging him back towards the shelf. He goes, shooting you one last glance as you move to observe a few clocks hanging on the wall.

Spencer doesn’t reach for your hand again when he comes back.

…

The house is quiet when you arrive back home, hours later. Spencer sets his bag down by the door, and yours goes next to his to be dealt with later.

Exhaustion from the case is heavy in your limbs; the long flight and the sleepless nights are seeping into your bones, but Spencer seems perfectly intent upon kissing it better. You rest your forehead on his chest, exhaling softly, contentedly, as he presses kiss after kiss into your hair. He gently rests his hands on your waist and pushes you against the door– not as an act of dominance, like if someone were viewing you two from afar might assume, but one of simple convenience.

His hand reaches up to tilt your chin to the position he wants. Before leaning in to your neck, he pauses. 

“Are you sure you don’t just want to go to bed?” he asks. “You didn't sleep last night.” You shake your head, giving his cheek a small peck of your own.

“It’s one of those tireds where I can’t even think about sleep ever again.” 

A small smile grows on his face.

“I bet I can change that,” Spencer offers, knuckles skimming over your waist. You smile and let him tug you upstairs to your room and guide your hips to sit on the bed. His hand cups the side of your jaw, as always, lips moving to press against yours in a soft, affectionate display of his adoration. His other hand moves to your waist, squeezing, and you shiver a little in response, making him hum gently. 

His hands go underneath the hem of your top. “Okay?” he asks. You nod, lifting your arms to help. His eyes take their time tracing over you, but never in a way that couldn't be defined as sweet. His hand leaves your cheek and goes to the bedside table, sliding open the drawer. It draws toward the front left corner, as it always does, when it pauses. He turns to look at you, hesitating.

You, whose legs are now pulled up to your chest, chin resting on them. You stare at the yellow light of the lamp you and Spencer picked out months ago reflecting against those countless little squares of foil. 

Your lips are drawn inwards, between your teeth, unable to help your mind from racing to other realities, ones where every detail is the very same, except Spencer chose not to open that drawer tonight. 

…

Spencer explained the basis of quantum immortality to you a long time ago, in the early stages of your relationship, at a time so late in the night where a regular person would never be able to form coherent thoughts, let alone thoughts like these.

You were slumped over the kitchen island, peering at him as he wandered around, silently marveling at the preciousness of your boyfriend the world seemed to take for granted as he tried to get you to understand how cool this concept was.

“There’s also an interpretation of quantum mechanics proposed by a physicist named Hugh Everett which involves a ‘many worlds’ concept: essentially, it suggests that every possible outcome of an event creates its own branch of reality, meaning an infinite number of parallel worlds exist, each containing a version of events where everything that can happen, does happen,” he starts, widening his eyes for dramatic effect. “So quantum immortality is rooted in the concept that when we die in one timeline, we essentially just move on to the next one where every detail is the same except… well, you don’t die.”

He went on to emphatically talk about some guy’s cat in a box, but how this time, in a thought experiment that demonstrates this theory of immortality, you’re the cat.

You had pretty much lost him when he got to that part.

…

You blink, shoving the memory from your mind. 

“You’re staring,” you point out quietly.

“You’re pretty,” Spencer responds. He sits next to you on the bed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You watch as his other hand fiddles with the condom he grabbed, running his thumb over the edges of the wrapper. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he says, “Did I do something?” You shake your head softly. 

“Mm-mm.”

“Really? Because we’ve been sitting in silence and you haven’t stopped staring at the condom in my hand for the past two minutes.”

You exhale quietly, internally screaming at yourself to just spit it out.

It’s never been easy, being an agent dating an agent. Sure, agreements have been made to not profile each other, but with so many years of experience, small observations and connections about your partner’s nature are an automatic practice. You know that Spencer takes 3 sugars in his coffee just as well as you know he says your name more frequently and shortens his sentences when scared, almost like he tries to instead convey the appearance he’s mad.

You also know very well that you and Spencer have both been consciously avoiding this conversation like the plague, especially since his homecoming. 

You gnaw at your lip, trying to think of something to say, but your mind can only come up with freaky images of cats that are simultaneously alive and dead until observed.

“`M sorry, I was just thinking. Lost in my mind.”

“Thinking about what?”

Relationships that are simultaneously kept and broken until a certain conversation is had.

“Um. Quantum immortality. Who’s that guy? Hugh Jackman?”

Spencer straightens, eyebrows raising a little. “Hugh Everett,” he supplies. His tone is gentle, coaxing. “You’ve been thinking about that? I told you about him months ago.”

He stands as you quietly think of a response, grabbing a hoodie from the closet to tug over your bare torso, letting his hand gently cradle the back of your head after doing so.

“Yeah. I did a little more reading on it. It’s kind of a nice thought I keep going back to. Obviously really, really scary when you think about it for too long. But nice in the sense that there’s probably a version of us out there somewhere where…” you trail off, suddenly extremely aware of the weight of your words. 

He glances down to the condom he left on the comforter.

The thick silence that follows feels like it stretches across a thousand timelines, each one probably also filled with countless what-ifs and unspoken words and really bad communication, and at the very root of all of it, fear. That deep, gaping hole in both of your souls.

When Spencer finally looks at you, his eyes are so deep it takes your breath away. So deep that it jars you into just saying it.

“Spencer,” you begin, voice so quiet. “Do you still want kids?”

You find yourself shooting up a silent prayer to whoever is out there looking out for you– God or Isaac Newton or Hugh Everett or Jason Gideon: 

Pleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyes.

When he doesn’t answer right away, you continue– a habit probably picked up from the person standing right in front of you. “I just feel like there was a time where we were almost talking about it, but then it… went away.”

He reaches out to gently take the condom you were now fiddling with and sets it back in the drawer, his hand resting on the edge of the table as if grounding himself. His face is soft, almost glowing in the dim yellow light.

“I know,” he starts, voice crackling at the edges.

You stay dead silent.

“I didn’t mean for it to go away,” Spencer says, the crack in his voice causing you to glance up and see his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

You nod, shakily, though the perpetual ache in your stomach is sharper now, more like it’s a knife stabbing you through the gut.

“I get it,” you say, even though part of you doesn’t want to. “You don’t need to be sorry.” You can’t even bring yourself to think of the implications of what he just said– all you know is that there is something fundamentally different between you and Spencer that wasn’t there before.

“It’s not that I don’t want it. I do. You know I do. But I can’t. Not now.”

You reach out your hand for him to take.

“Spencer,” you whisper. “It’s okay. Really. We don’t have to talk about it any more.”

His lips press into a thin line, and you can tell he doesn’t believe you. Clearly. It wasn’t a statement said to be believed. There was nothing okay, at all, but this isn’t a fight- there’s nothing to fight about. There's just a quiet understanding. He nods, finally, and steps back. “We should get some sleep,” he says, his voice almost too soft to hear.

You watch as he pulls back the covers and slides into bed, still in his work clothes, leaving just enough space for you beside him. After a moment you curl up next to him because, despite everything, doing the alternative would be so much worse.

Spencer's arms wrap around you, his breath warm against the nape of your neck, and you close your eyes and let the silence settle over you both, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your back. Something you would have given anything to have not so long ago.