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#despite the difficulties I still really loved making it ^_^
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House X /maybe fem?)Reader where House falls in love with a singer he just cured. Maybe while checking if she can sing again and he plays the piano while she sings or something? I think that could be a cute one, because everytime I see House making Music, he seems so...emotional and vulnerable. :3
ONE MORE SONG - gregory house x fem!reader
this is a cute idea! i hope i was able to bring your vision to life <3 also, thanks so much for being my first request, i had a lot of fun writing this!
slight fluff ( it is house, after all )
🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷
you'd heard about vocal chord injuries all the time. singers strained their voices too hard during performances, especially as they got older, but you were still young. you did everything you could to protect your voice, and yet during rehearsal you found yourself unable to make a sound. at first you thought maybe you were coming down with something, but when a week passed and you had no other symptoms besides no voice, you decided to seek medical help.
there wasn't a single doctor who was able to help you. they ruled out everything from strep to laryngitis, and you even had tests done to rule out cancer. everything came back clean. you were suddenly deemed a medical mystery with no voice.
your symptoms began progressing shortly after that. you were having difficulties breathing and swallowing, and any last remnants of your voice that you might have had were slowly diminishing as well.
princeton-plainsboro teaching hospital was your last ditch effort in figuring out what was wrong with you. doctor gregory house claimed to be one of the best diagnosticians in the country, if not the world, so you were putting a lot of faith in him to figure out what was wrong with you. you were warned right from the jump that you likely wouldn't meet the man in charge of your medical file, and it was something you came to terms with. however, he surprised everyone by taking a major interest in you as a patient rather than you as a puzzle. music was a hobby of his, and it wasn't often that his patients shared that hobby.
the first time you met house, you weren't sure how to feel. he was this grumpy, older man who walked with a cane and looked to be the epitome of the word "miserable". he was sarcastic and rude, not giving a damn about how he treated his employees, nurses, or even you. and yet there was something about him that you couldn't get enough of. almost as if you could see through the facade he put up.
your diagnosis was bilateral vocal cord paralysis, though you were lucky that it didn't kill you. there were a few close calls, but they were able to reverse the paralysis with surgery, and for the last year, you've been going to voice therapy to strengthen your vocal cords and improve your breath control while speaking. you were doing amazing, and on the one year anniversary of your surgery, you actually had a follow up appointment with house's team. it was rare that they followed up with patients, but it was also rare for house to have taken such an interest in the case.
"house, where did you get a piano?" doctor cameron asked as she watched her boss suddenly wheeling a piano into the office.
"don't ask," house replied, pushing it into the middle of the room and getting it set up. he then turned to you. "come here."
"what for?" you asked, very confused as to what he was doing.
"for a sandwich," he rolled his eyes. "obviously i want to make sure your vocal cords are healing properly," he added. so, despite your apprehension about his methods, you approached the piano and sat down on the little bench. house sat down beside you. "you think you can still sing?" he asked.
"i don't know...i haven't really tried," you admitted.
"well, you're going to now," house said, starting to play the tune of one of your songs on thr piano. he'd really gone as far as to look into your music and pick one of your songs.
despite being nervous, you started to sing the words, and you quickly realized that it wasn't as hard as you thought it would be. sure, it didn't sound near as perfect as it used to, but considering you'd gone through bilateral vocal cord paralysis and survived, it sounded pretty damn good. you couldn't help but notice that house was really getting into it, and you could have sworn you saw a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
you two had become rather...close during your time in his care a year ago. you two bonded over your shared love for music, and during that time you really got to see a different side of the man he presented himself to be. in fact, it wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination to say that you two even developed feelings for each other, but unfortunately nothing ever came of it. when you were discharged from the hospital, you were also discharged out of his life, and over the last year, house couldn't stop thinking about you. that was why he scheduled this "follow up" appointment with you. he never saw his patients after they were out of his care, but he realized that if he wanted a chance, he was going to have to take it now.
when the song ended, he glanced at you before the rest of his team, now shooing them out of the office to make themselves useful either within the clinic or with their current medical mystery. it was really just a ploy to get a moment alone with you, and once you two were alone, he turned his attention back to you. god, you could get lost staring into those bright blue eyes of his, and he seemed to pick up on that.
"what?" he asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.
"oh...nothing," you replied, feeling a little flustered. his eyes flickered down to your lips, and he drew in a deep breath.
"you know, i don't ever follow up with my patients," he told you.
"you don't?" you asked, and he shook his head. "then why me?"
"because i haven't been able to stop thinking about you since you walked out of this hospital," he admitted.
"oh come on...i couldn't have been that special," you replied, raising an eyebrow.
"i've never...i've never connected with a patient like this. i've never felt like this before," house said. you were quiet for a minute, trying to process what he was saying.
"would it be wrong for me to say that i feel the same about you?" you ask finally, and there was that little smile of his trying not to show itself again. he didn't speak, but instead leaned his head in and pressed his lips against yours. you could have melted against his lips, and you were surprised at how well they fit together. after a few moments, though, you pulled away to breathe.
"i feel like we're breaking so many rules right now," you laugh, and house finally cracked a real smile.
"it's what i do best," he said, pulling you in for another kiss.
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twotales · 2 years
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Stargate Atlantis | Frequency of Popular Tropes
All SGA fandom stats
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@itstartedwithalex​ This is a fantastic idea! ^_^ Took me a bit though <3
Note:
This so far has been the most difficult chart to make for two reasons, for one finding the tags to make it is quite difficult, I am absolutely sure there are more tags/untagged fics that would lean into these categories and I did go through like ninty-eight pages of tags so, eh, I tried my best and that’s what counts. The second reason is that the chart just wouldn’t look right to me no matter how many times I adjusted it, but I figured it’s good enough <3
Also, I actually thought AMTDI would be higher.
*The AO3 date function starts from the day you search. This means year 2022 is actually July 2021 - July 2022 and so on. (I originally had 21/22 on the graphic but it made it look cluttered.) I could account for this if I had more time but sadly I do not. I may do a chart in January to get an accurate account. But, since SGA came out in July 2004 this is technically an accurate year count by release date.
Please do not remove my username from the graphic.
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munson-blurbs · 9 months
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Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
Summary: When you confide in your boyfriend about your difficulty getting wet, his reaction is not what you'd expected.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), reader takes antidepressants
A/N: To all the afab folks who, for whatever reasons, can't get wet--this is for you.
Collaboration with the queen of fluffy smut, @corroded-hellfire 😘
--
“Feel good, baby?” Eddie growls in your ear, his fingers digging into the skin above the waistband of your panties. His other hand cups your breast, still concealed by your bra, though you venture it won’t be long before it’s uncovered. 
You continue grinding on his bare thigh, his boxers pushed up high. The outline of his cock shows through the cotton, and you can’t help but grab it. He inhales sharply at the sudden contact, making you giggle.
“Love seeing you all turned on, Eds,” you murmur, sucking a bruise into his neck that has his eyes rolling back in his head. He moves his hand from your waist to your clit, pressing slow circles to the sensitive bud over the lace. A moan slips past your lips, quickly turning into a whimper of his name. “F-Fuck, Eddie. Right there.”
Despite your words and the drag of your cunt on his leg, Eddie can’t help but question whether or not you’re faking it. “How ya feelin’ baby?” he whispers, tiptoeing around the more direct question in a means of cushioning his ego. 
“So good.”
Okay. Good. You feel so good. Everything’s…good. Right?
Eddie pulls back, ducking behind his hair and missing your confused expression. “We can stop if you’re not into it,” he mutters. He’s not angry at you; he’s angry at himself, because he’s clearly doing something wrong if you’re not…
“Wh-Why wouldn’t I be into it?” Your eyebrows pinch together. You’d been together a few months and hadn’t slept together yet, but you’d thought tonight could be the night.
“Because you’re not really…” Eddie struggles to find the right words. “Like, you sound into it, but I don’t feel you getting turned on.”
Embarrassment heats up your body. You slide off of him and onto his carpeted floor, repositioning yourself so you’re facing away from him. You can still see him out of your peripheral vision, but you hope he doesn’t notice the tears welling in your eyes. “M sorry, baby.” Your voice is small, and despite your best efforts, it catches in your throat when you speak.
He rests his hand on your upper arm, gently caressing it with his thumb. “Hey, hey,” he says softly, trying to hide his disappointment at the unreciprocated longing. “We gave it a shot. You can’t help if this doesn’t get you going.” He gives a little shimmy, shoulders swaying back and forth clumsily.
You turn back around towards him,  “You think…no, Eds. You’re so sexy, even when you do your weird little dances.”
“I’ll have you know,” Eddie starts, giving you a playful look, “that my weird little dances have gotten me not one, but…yeah, okay, just the one hot girl’s phone number.”
“And it was mine.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He reaches for your hand and holds it tentatively. “But if I’m making you feel good, how come you don’t get…y’know…?”
Instinct has you wanting to turn away from him in shame, but his grip on your hand is enough to keep you where you are. It’s hard to meet his eyes, but once you do and that big doe stare tugs at your heart, you let out a sigh.
“You’re making me feel amazing, Eddie. It’s just…I don’t really get…I mean, I can’t get too…” The right words don’t seem to find you and frustration balls up inside of you. You slap your free hand over your eyes, partially out of frustration, but also to hide the tears that are beginning to well up. 
“Hey…” Eddie lightly chides as he rubs his thumb along the back of your hand. “You can talk to me. You know that.”
The hand falls from your face and you take a deep breath. Words jumble through your brain, trying to figure out how to come from another direction. “Y-You know how I have depression and anxiety.”
“Yeah.”
“Well,” you say, swallowing before continuing, “the meds they give me for them…they, uh…well, they kind of keep me from being able to get…”
“Wet?” Eddie offers.
You nod, a few tears breaking free despite your attempts to keep them in. 
“I can…a little…just not a whole lot. I’m sorry.” 
Eddie frowns and shakes his head. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because,” you say, huffing a humorless laugh, “you’re so cute and sweet and I’m worried that when we actually have sex, it won’t feel good for you.”
He pauses for a moment, tongue poking out from his lips in the way that makes you melt as he reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a bottle of lube. He holds the small pink tube up between the two of you.
“Think this’ll work?” he asks.
You raise an eyebrow in amusement. The bottle is the last thing you expected Eddie to pull out of that unorganized mess he calls a nightstand. 
“Where did you get that?” you ask.
“Well, uh,” Eddie starts, cheeks tingeing pink. You notice he continues to look at the lube instead of you. “I use it every night when I think of you.”
The words take you by surprise, even though he’s your boyfriend. It’s not like you hadn’t gotten off thinking about him long before the two of you even started dating. 
“You…you think of me?”
“Well, yeah,” Eddie shrugs with a grin. “My girl is ridiculously beautiful, you think I’m not going to get off thinking about her every night before I go to bed? And most mornings before school?” He ducks his head and his bashfulness makes him look especially boyish. “Plus, there was all that time before we started dating when we were just friends…”
“So that’s why it’s more than half empty,” you say, a small smile breaking through on your lips. 
“I prefer to think of it as half full.” Eddie’s roguish smile has you breaking out into a full blown grin. You let out a chuckle as you pluck the bottle from your boyfriend’s fingers. 
“I didn’t peg you for a strawberry kind of guy, Munson.”
Eddie looks down with a shy expression on his face. Every time you make him flustered you take it as a personal victory.
“It’s, uh, it’s ‘cause it smells like your chapstick.” He leans up and presses a kiss to your nose. When he sees the effect that has on you, mischievousness creeps back onto his face. “What do you say…wanna give it a try?”
You exhale, still frustrated. The anxiety at the back of your brain is still saying that Eddie is just being nice about this. That he really thinks it’s weird and doesn’t want to have sex with you now.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this? With being with someone who needs to use lube?” you double check.
Eddie looks at you with an incredulous expression. “Baby, I’d use WD40 if it meant being inside you.”
A snort of laughter escapes you and you lightly slap his chest.
“Eddie, I’m serious!”
“I am, too! Shit, I’ll go grab some Crisco from the cabinet right now—”
“Eddie!” You sigh. “I know you’re going to wanna have, like, spontaneous sex. That might not be something I can do if we don’t have lube.”
Eddie shrugs without missing a beat. “I’ll carry it around with me. Like pocket lube or something.”
“Pocket lube?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. 
He laughs, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “We can keep this one here, and I’ll buy another one for the van. How does that sound?”
The offer has your heart melting and you lean into his body. “Sounds like you’re the best boyfriend in the world.”
“Baby, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” he smirks, tugging gently at the waistband of your panties. “May I lube up the fair maiden?”
“As long as you promise never to say that again,” you say, already climbing onto his bed. 
“Noted,” he agrees with a laugh before turning his attention to the panties that block his view of your beautiful pussy. He drags the lacy fabric down your legs and tosses it aside as you unclasp your bra. A goofy grin spreads across his face as he takes one breast in each hand. “Sorry,” he says, though his tone has no ounce of apology, “but you can’t just show off your tits and expect me to focus on anything else.”
You roll your eyes and giggle, a fluttering feeling in your stomach that goes beyond the moment’s lust. The way he can make you laugh in your most vulnerable moments is special, and you want to capture this joy and keep it forever.  
“Lay back and open these pretty legs for me, Sweetheart.” Eddie squeezes out some lube onto the tips of his forefinger and middle finger, gently pumping them in and out of you, going a bit deeper each time “‘S good?”
“Mhm. So, so fucking good, fuck.” Your walls clench around his fingers in a silent plea for him to be buried deep inside you. 
“Tell me if you need more, okay baby doll?”
You nod, really only able to fixate on the way his fingers feel inside you. The addition of the lubricant removes any unwanted friction, and you moan louder than you intend to. 
“Your noises…holy fuckin’ shit.” Eddie muses, palming himself over his boxers. 
You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment. “‘M sorry.”
He pauses his movements, drawing a whimper from your lips. “Don’t ever apologize for making such beautiful sounds. It’s crazy hot, baby.”
“Really?”
He uses his free hand to grab your wrist, bringing your palm to his tented boxers. The fabric strains against his raging erection. 
“Really.”
With that, you let yourself fully indulge in the feeling of his fingers. You barely recognize the noises you’re making; you’ve never felt this good in your whole life. 
The way Eddie’s tongue pokes from his mouth gives you another idea, and you press your thighs together to stop his ministrations. 
He looks up at you, brows knitted together in confusion. “What is it, baby? More?” He starts to reach for the bottle until he sees you shake your head. 
“Do you, uh, w-wanna taste the lube?” It’s as straightforward as you can manage, still overwhelmed by the pleasure washing over your body. 
Eddie’s cock twitches, his face contorted in amused disbelief. “Are you seriously asking me if I want to eat you out?” he asks. “Was it not obvious that that would be a yes?” 
He throws your legs over his shoulders so quickly that it has you laughing in surprise, but that laughter stops as soon as his mouth is on you. His tongue immediately finds your clit, flicking over it until your toes curl. He wraps his lips around it and sucks gently until he has you on the brink of orgasm. His fingers return to your needy hole, filling you expertly until you cum with a wanton moan. 
“So fucking good f’me,” Eddie says, still between your legs. His mouth and chin are covered in a slick sheen. “You wanna taste now, baby? Wanna know just how delicious you are?”
You open your mouth and eagerly accept his fingers. They taste of your arousal and a hint of strawberry; it does bear a striking similarity to your Chapstick. Once Eddie lets his fingers drop from your mouth, you’re whining and writhing below him. 
“Need you, Eds.” It sounds more like a whimper than a plea. But your beautiful boyfriend isn’t about to deny you a thing—let alone something that he also wants very badly. 
“Fuck, need you too, baby doll.” He launches his boxers across the room and smears some lube on his cock, bucking his hips slightly into his closed palm. He doesn’t break eye contact as he enters you, searching for any inkling of discomfort. The stretch is delicious, and you arch your back once he bottoms out. 
“Look at you, taking all of me. My good girl,” Eddie growls, watching his cock disappear into your cunt. “Holy shit; I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this perfect pussy from me.”
You shiver at the praise, blinking away the prickling tears on your lash line. 
Eddie gradually picks up the pace, snapping his hips into you. His pubic hair grazes yours and he lets out a groan of his own. 
“Could stay like this forever,” he mumbles in your ear, forearms braced on either side of your head. 
So could you. Except…
“Eds?”
“Hmm?”
You swallow your timidness. I can trust him. “I think, um…could you use some more lube?” You’re embarrassed and annoyed at yourself for having to interrupt the moment, but Eddie’s unfazed. 
“Sure. Can I just put it inside you? Cuz, uh, if I put it on my dick, I’m gonna bust in my hand.” He gives a small laugh, though you both know he’s not joking. 
Eddie gingerly fingers you, all-too aware of how oversensitive and overstimulated your pussy is. At some point, he’ll have fun teasing you with his touch, but tonight is about your comfort. 
He slides his cock back inside you. “Better?”
“Much,” you manage, re-acclimating your body to him being inside you. “Thank you, baby.”
“‘Course. Let me know if you need more again, ‘kay?”
You nod, relishing in the way he fills you. His cock presses against your walls; you can feel every last inch of him.
Eddie doesn’t stop showering you with praise as he pistons his hips. “Love when my girl tells me what she needs,” he says with a small smirk. “I’d do fuckin’ anything for you, sweet thing.” A few strands of hair cover his eye, and you swipe it away. “Thanks.”
“Any time.” You manage a smile of your own before he catches you off guard, positioning you so he can rub your clit while fucking you. Your jaw drops in surprise; it’s exactly the reaction he wanted. “Just like that, Eds. Holy shit, right there!”
“That’s what you like? Hmm? Like when I’m deep inside your perfect pussy, making you feel good?” The hand not making small figure-eights on your swollen bud grabs your ass, squeezing it possessively. “Like when I claim you? Let me show you who you belong to.”
The combination of Eddie deep within you and being claimed by him pushes you over the edge. The coil snaps and you choke out a sob of relief as pleasure invades your body. You finish on his cock, chanting his name like a prayer. 
“Fuck, c-can’t hold out anym-more,” he grunts, and with a cry of your name, he fills you with his own release. He stays inside you for a moment, catching his breath; when he finally pulls out, you can feel his cum dripping down your bare thigh. He hurries to grab the faded blue towel hanging from the back of his door, wiping you off before plopping next to you. He draws tiny circles on your forearm while pressing kisses to your shoulder. 
“Was that good? It didn’t hurt or anything, right? Because I kinda lost my mind at the end—” 
You silence him with a kiss that only ends because you both start smiling. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had. No one’s ever made me cum before,” you admit. 
Eddie scoots back slightly. “You’re shitting me.”
“Nope. You’re the first. So, um, thank you?”
He puffs out his chest, slick with perspiration. “No need to thank us, baby. We’d do anything for you.”
“‘We?’” You cock your eyebrow. 
“Yeah, me and the lube,” he states plainly, as if this is an obvious fact. “We make a pretty good team, dontcha think?”
“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.”
“I dunno, I thought my ‘pocket lube’ idea was pretty damn brilliant.”
--
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barcaatthemoon · 1 month
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good enough || alanna kennedy x reader ||
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you meet alanna's friends, but it doesn't go as well as you had hoped.
alanna was excited as she held your hand and led you towards her friends. you were beyond nervous, but alanna was adamant that it would be fine. she believed that her friends would love you. she loved you so much that they'd really have no choice, and even if you didn't get along at first, alanna was willing to be patient about that.
she understood that there would be some difficulty with the language barrier. the two of you had lapses sometimes in your conversations. alanna didn't think she had ever been so grateful for google translate, which had become a staple in her apartment since you started hanging around.
you had moved to manchester for school. alanna had run into you at a coffee shop, saving you from a rather aggressive and angry barista who couldn't understand you. as a thank you, you had gone out with her. that was the beginning of your relationship, and you hadn't looked back since.
"oh, there they are!" alanna said happily. she tugged on your arm gently as she pulled you over to a table. you glanced nervously at the group of girls sitting there, all of whom embraced your girlfriend in tight hugs. "(y/n), this is mackenzie, caitlin, and steph. guys, this is my girlfriend, (y/n)."
"nice to meet you," steph said as she pulled you into a hug. caitlin and steph seemed a lot more excited to meet you than mackenzie. you understood why, alanna was her best friend, and you had seemingly popped up out of nowhere.
"why don't you sit down and i'll get us something to drink, okay?" alanna suggested. steph and caitlin shared a look as alanna pulled your chair out for you. mackenzie, however, didn't seem nearly as impressed by things. she wasn't being outright mean to you, but you could tell that she definitely didn't want you here.
"despite alanna talking about you constantly, she hasn't really told us much about you," steph said as she leaned forward a little. "she mentioned you're not from here, though."
"oh, um, yes, i came from france for school," you told them. steph and caitlin asked you a few more questions about yourself before alanna got back. once she was back, alanna took up the rest of your attention. she hadn't done it on purpose, but it was a habit that she had quickly fallen into.
while a lot of people would argue that you didn't really do anything for work, your videos took up a lot of time. you were nearly at a record for followers on tiktok and instagram, and nobody had even seen your face yet. you made sure to do everything that you could to engage with people without revealing your identity. the last thing you wanted was to get swarmed by people whenever you were just trying to enjoy a day out with your girlfriend.
"hey macca, are you staying over still?" alanna asked. the little brunch was coming to an end, steph and caitlin having left just a few minutes before. they seemed excited to see you again, even if you'd be wearing a blue jersey then.
mackenzie glanced at you for a moment before turning to alanna to answer, "of course. i didn't come all this way for a cup of coffee. you owe me a few drinks at least."
"and i promise you more drinks than either of us should ever have, but first, i promised (y/n) that we'd go shopping after this," alanna said. mackenzie let out a little huff at that, but didn't say anything.
the three of you left together after that, alanna seemingly oblivious to the tension. you could feel mackenzie glaring at you whenever alanna wasn't paying attention. that was why you were glad to have slipped away from alanna and mackenzie after making a few stops at different stores. at least you had been until you got to the check out.
you had a good amount of money from your videos and social media profiles. it was enough that alanna's jokes about you being the breadwinner had stopped being jokes. that being said, you didn't want to have to call alanna to come and pay for you, but the clerk didn't seem to be willing at all to help with the language barrier.
"hey babe, sorry it took so long to get here," alanna apologized. you were quick to reassure her that it as fine and apologize in your own language. you had spent a good part of the day speaking english, and your brain was a little tired of constant translating. languages had never really been one of your strong suits, and it was times like this that you were grateful for alanna's patience with you.
"hey lan, do you think we can head back to your place now?" mackenzie asked. you still had a few things that you wanted to get, but mackenzie already seemed to dislike you, and you didn't want to make it worse.
"babe, are you done?" alanna asked. you nodded as you cuddled up to her side, pretending to be tired. alanna took your shopping bags from you and carried them to the car. she walked ahead of you, just far enough for mackenzie to pull you back for a moment.
"you shouldn't take advantage of her, it's wrong. alanna isn't your little errand girl, nor is she your personal bank account," mackenzie warned. you seemed to look confused, and so mackenzie decided to rephrase herself. "it's not right to treat her like this. she's way too good for you."
while alanna did seem to notice that you'd gotten sort of quiet, she still didn't manage to pick up on the tension between you and mackenzie. the glares that you had been trying to ignore all day seemed to penetrate through the mental barrier you'd put up. her words echoed in your brain, constantly reminding you of the insecurities that you had earlier on in your relationship.
"where are you going?" alanna asked as she watched you start to gather your things. she had been excited about you staying the whole week with her, especially after you had opted to spend the weekend on campus. your school schedule had been hectic, but this was a slow week with no assignments, one that you could dedicate solely on alanna.
"i can't stay here tonight, i'm sorry," you told her. alanna frowned as she watched you slip your backpack over your shoulders. she leaned forward for a kiss, one that you didn't give her as you rushed out of her apartment.
"hey, don't get all pouty on me. come on, get another drink and let's have fun," mackenzie tried. alanna didn't even look at her as she shot up from the couch and ran to follow you outside.
"(y/n)!" alanna yelled as she chased you through the parking lot. she was faster than you, so she managed to catch up before you reached your car. "what's wrong babe?"
"i can't stay with mackenzie there. she hates me. i just want to be good enough for you. i've been trying so hard, and she barely knows me, but she can see through me," you cried. alanna pulled you in for a hug, holding you tightly in her arms. "i'm sorry, but i don't think this is a good idea anymore."
"stop it. macca is protective, and while i love her, sometimes she needs to get her head out of her ass. don't listen to her, she'll come around to you, she just has to get to know you. now, i don't know where you not being good enough for me comes in because it's not true," alanna told you. she cupped your cheeks and tilted your head back a little, forcing you to look up at her. "i love you, and you love me. if anything, i'm not good enough for you, understood?"
"i know that you want me to stay, but i don't think i should while she's here," you said. alanna looked disappointed, but she wouldn't force you to stay if you truly didn't want to. "i'm sorry, lani."
"it's okay-," alanna pressed a kiss to the top of your head, "-i'll see you in the morning for breakfast. if it's okay with you, i'd really like to try and get you and macca on better terms, but we can wait a while first."
"she is your best friend?" you asked. alanna was quick to give you a little nod. "then i will try again tomorrow, for you."
"see, there you go again being too good to me," alanna laughed. she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, careful to keep things soft and sweet. "i do wish you'd stay, but i'll pick you up tomorrow."
"tomorrow," you promised. "bye lani."
"bye babe, i love you." alanna dropped her hands away from you and started to slowly walk away.
"i love you too," you said back. alanna was smiling as she made her way back towards her apartment building. a part of you wanted to go back and spend the night, but you needed to clear your head a little and figure out what you were going to say to mackenzie the next day. you knew that alanna was going to have some words with the other woman, and you just hoped that she didn't say anything to ruin a friendship over you.
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mysicklove · 7 months
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𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋
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DAY 12: SOUNDING
With: Keigo Takami (Hawks)
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: Sub! Hawks, gn! reader, sounding, HEAVY sub/dom spaces, hints of sado/masochism, mentions of anal fingering, keigo crying and twitching, cursing, pee/urine mentioned throughout
A/N: This is one of those smut fics that are heavily unrealistic (which i LOVEEEE), keigo says some cringe things at some points tho. LOL
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Keigo has such a pretty face. People stop and stare at him on the street, he has been recruited by multiple modeling companies and is lusted over by teenage girls all over the world. Born to be nicknamed, “Pretty Boy”. It was cute, really, and he seemed to love the name.
But to you, he doesn't look his best when he is photographed in lewd poses, or when the media catches the way he looks at you, or even with his candid hero photos that are unbearably hot.
No, to you, Keigo looks his absolute best when he cried. Of course, not from sadness, from pleasure and pain. When his face is flushed, his eyes are hazy, and tears coat his cheeks. When he looks up at you in pure adoration, and trembles under your hold.
But that was the sadistic side of you talking. The side of you who wants to completely ruin the man. It's hard not to when he looks so pretty during it.
So, slowly you've been finding new ways to wreck him and with each one, he reacts perfectly. You've gotten addicted to it. Him, really.
Tonight you are going to try sounding. You stare at the small metal rod, and then back to your lover, who is leaning against the headboard, and trying to act like he is not completely terrified. He gulps when you peer at him, straightening his back, and trying to uphold his cocky grin.
“You're scared, aren't ya?”
He scoffs, looking away. “No. I'm the one who asked for this, why would I be scared?”
As much as you like ruining Keigo, Keigo loves being ruined. You have to keep a close eye on him because he swears he has no limits and has not used his safeword so far. Everything is on the table for him, and that sometimes worries you. You've held down your desires but he voices them and is the one to beg you for more and more.
Urethra play was not something he has tried. “Mhmm. It will be fine, we will go slow,” You reassure him despite his words. You place a comforting hand on his thigh and he sighs, smiling at you softly.
“Yeah. It'll be fine. You're right.”
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Horrifying is the best word to describe what's in front of him right now. The “thin” rod is now lodged halfway into his urethra and he's panting out, thighs trembling. It doesn't exactly feel bad, but it's foreign, and the sight in front of him makes him uneasy. Nothing is supposed to go in that hole.
He's gripping onto your hand for comfort, eyes wide as saucers. “We aren't even all the way in yet, Keigo.”
He whines out at the words, resting his head on your shoulder. Sweat beads at his forehead and his face is flushed. “F-Feels so full.”
You teasingly tap on the rod, and his back arches, wings fluttering out at the strange feeling. He grips your hand and stares at you, silently pleading. “Sorry. Forgot. Let's put it all in, yeah?”
“Dont–Dont know if I can.”
You stroke the bottom of his shaft and smile at him. “Got plenty of room still. It's supposed to touch your prostate, y'know.”
Yeah, he definitely knew that. For the last couple of days, he researched the ins and outs of this. But still, he doesn't know how the hell it could go any deeper. He feels overwhelmingly stuffed even from half of it being inserted. He gulps and glances at you, but nods.
“Take a deep breath for me, Keigo. Promise it'll feel good in a bit.” You're right, and he knows it. Just like when you fingered him for the first time, it feels weird in the beginning, but now he's addicted to it. This could be a new thing to drive him mad. He sure hopes so.
He takes a deep breath, and you slowly continue to inch it in, letting gravity do the most part. The road is slippery from the lube and it goes in without much difficulty.
Keigo on the other hand is going insane. He is moaning and whining, gripping onto the sheets with such force that you are afraid he is going to rip it. You watch his arm muscles clench and unclench, and he throws his head back. “Oh. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He cries with every second it goes deeper.
You hush him, using your other hand to stroke him gently, hoping to coax it in. His squirming makes it harder, and you don't want to hurt him, so you try your best to pin his hips down beneath you so they won't jump up.
And at last, it reaches the bottom. You pull away and look up at him. Keigo is trembling, back arched pornographically, and staring at the ceiling with an open mouth. Tears drip down his cheeks, and his legs are trembling, bent, and spread wide. “All done, it's all the way in now. Shhh, just gotta get adjusted to it.”
He shakes his head and lets out a cry, “Fuck. It's weird. Feels so weird! Full–I cant–”
You lean forward to press your lips to his, cutting his frantic rambling off. “Keigo, do you want to use your safeword?” You ask, just for reassurance.
He shakes his head frantically. “No! Wait! I-I never said I didn't like it!” He pleads desperately to you, even if you haven't tried to make an effort to remove it. His mind seems to be scattered, but this is how he is when he usually tries new things in bed. Today, just a little bit more extreme, considering you haven't tried anything even close to this.
“What does it feel like, Birdie?”
He takes a deep, shaky breath. “Feels full. D-Different type of full. It's weird. And it also feels like I gotta pee a little bit. But in a good way? It's all so weird and overwhelming, Y/N!”
You gulp, watching the way his eyes move around frantically. The way his body is bright red, and he's staring at you with desperate eyes. His mouth is glossy, and his eyes are wet. This is your favorite face of Keigos. This is what you have been wanting to see.
The urges get the better of you. “I'm going to move it now Keigo.”
His eyes widen, and before he can even protest, you move it upward, slightly. His back arches again and he gasps for air. “O-Oh–Its–Fuckkkkk.”
You push it back in completely and he keens, gripping onto your hand with wide eyes. A loud, desperate whine is let out, and more tears stream down his face. He's withering under you, and you can't help but stare at his pretty physique. “Are you oka–”
“Again!” He sobs, legs moving sporadically against the sheets.
His words make you gulp. He's falling into that state again. The one where his only task is to get himself completely fucked dumb. He doesn't want to think about anything except his pleasure, and frankly, his adorable facial expression is pulling you into your very own state with him.
You lift the rod up, farther than last time, until more than half of it sticks out. He stares at it, panting loudly and waiting for you to push it back in. It makes his adrenal pulse, and his mouth begins to water.
You don't tease him too long, and abide by his wishes, pressing the full thing in until it reaches the very bottom of his cock. He moans this time, enjoying it more with every second. Tears continue to fall, but he can't pay attention to them, instead focused on the feeling of being so full. If he had a toy in the other end, he surely would have lost his mind. Next time, for sure.
You continue to bring it up and down and he gets louder and louder with each stroke, not caring for whoever hears him. He is feeling such intense pleasure, everyone should hear his cries. Or at least that is what he believes.
“So cute. We found another hole for me to abuse, yeah Keigo?” You purr, eyes traveling up his shaking body with hunger.
He nods his head frantically. “Yes. Yes! Please fuck it more, I'm begging!”
You stop for a moment, a teasing gleam in your eyes. “Want me to fuck your pee hole? How lewd, Birdie.”
But to your dismay, he isn't responding to the teasing as you hoped. Instead, just agreeing with every word, too lost in the subspace to really care for how dirty your words are. “Yes! F-Fuck my pee hole. Need it. S-So full!”
You don't mind your failed attempt, now staring fondly at the pretty boy in front of you, who is completely out of it by now. It usually takes him longer to get to this state, and it was intriguing that this little rod had such a huge effect on him.
Your pace is quicker, and you use your other hand to stroke him off. His mouth hangs open, and drool begins to bead at the corner of his mouth. Every breath is a high-pitched, airy moan. It's adorable, really.
You watch his thighs start to clench and you raise your eyebrows, knowing that he's going to cum sometime soon. When you glance back up at his face, he's staring back at you, sniffling gently, but his eyes are full of adoration.
“C-Cum? Please?” He is struggling to speak, and you can't help but take mercy on him. He was so cute not to.
“Sure, baby. You can cum,” You coo, leaning forward to kiss his abdomen. He lets out a whine in thanks and nods his head.
A couple seconds go by and his breaths become quicker, louder too. His toes begin to curl, and he grips onto the bedsheets. “N-Now!” He begs, and you quickly take out the rod for him to cum.
White liquid flies out and falls onto his stomach, and you continue to use one hand to stroke him through it all. He takes loud gasps and lets out a loud shaky moan, and then another equally loud and high in pitch. His body constricts in odd, but cute ways, and he clenches his eyes shut, causing more tears to fall down his face.
You sit and admire him, only stopping your hand movements when he lets out a broken sob at the feeling of overstimulation.
A couple seconds go by, and you hum quietly, waiting for him to talk. Depending on what he says will determine if he wants to keep going or rest. The ball is in his court.
It doesn't take him too long to decide, obviously still in the subspace, but willing to communicate.
“Wanna. I wanna. H-Hey, why did you stop?” He complains, whiny and dramatic. You raise your eyebrows at him and bark a short laugh.
You aren't even surprised at this point. So, you pick up the rod again, and he stares at it, like a dog to a bone. He grins, the smile fucked out, and lazy. “Feels, so empty. Put it back, pleaseeeee!”
When you plunge it back in, he almost cums again on the spot.
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hazelfoureyes · 24 days
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⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania
I managed to finish this despite, ya know, the aforementioned: (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥`)
˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2 (keep reading)
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦
「warnings/promises: Alastor x CupidFemReader, broken bones, feet washing, normal sized Luci, you know the outfit in my PFP? You’re wearing that but soft purple and the bottom half is ambiguous because idk baby whatever you feel best in it’s your story, Husk has a bad time, Alastor has a bad time, You have a bad time, Charlie has a great time 👌🏼, not choking」
Minors this one is chill but the next two imma need you to Dni 💋 ♥️ 🧹lovingly
You had made a mistake, yes, but Hell? Really?
Sure, you had dropped an arrow into the water supply of a nunnery which did lead to some unholy behaviors. But! The nuns seemed quite happy. Wasn’t that the point?
Tossing you to Hell through a hastily opened portal was honestly unprofessional. You ended up dropping three stories, upside down, in front of a butcher's shop.
In the seconds between Sera telling you, ‘You can return when you’ve made a sinner believe in true love.’ and Lute kicking you square in the chest through the hell door, you thought it wouldn’t be so hard. True, you couldn’t use your arrows as that wouldn’t be “true love” and also too easy, even gods weak to your shots, but ultimately sinners were still human. Humans were pushovers! Pliable, gentle at their hearts, desiring love and tenderness. How bad could the naughty ones be? 
And then you landed shoulder first onto the pavement. It hurt. Things didn’t hurt in heaven…
Your arrows scattered, quiver spilling when you inverted. Wincing, you scrambled to grab as many as were within reach. Your right shoulder was burning, a new sensation.
You counted them by name as you gathered: Eros, Agape, Philia, Pragma, Philautia, Ludus, Storge… panic. 
ErosAgapePhiliaPragmaPhilautiaLudusStorge— Mania wasn’t there. Arguably the arrow that caused you the most trouble, the sting of Mania would cause a madness that led to obsessive behaviors, possessiveness, jealousy. 
Pulling yourself up, arrows clutched in one hand, the other holding the place near your collar was throbbing, your eyes were frantic in their search.
“What’s this?”
You finally looked up from the sidewalk, a man’s back to you before he turned. Bile rose and burned your throat as he pulled Mania from where it had pierced his chest pocket.
His eyes, shades of red heaven didn’t even entertain, made a simple trip from the arrow's head to your face.
The man went so still you thought for a moment he was a hologram, but you could see the tiniest rise and fall of his chest. A deer facing down a bright light, he remained frozen in place as you began to approach him.
“Excuse my manners, but that’s mine and I really need it back.” Your injured arm moved first and the pain made you see white, a cry so sharp people turned to look. He snapped back to his senses, and with an odd sound you couldn’t quite place, he seemingly disappeared into the ground.
Mania was left behind, shining smugly against the dirty pavement. You didn’t want to make a reach for it, fear flooding you. You’d never felt pain before.
You’d seen it in humans, but never in your existence had you experienced it. Would both arms hurt?
You let the left hand abandon its guarding place and grabbed the errant arrow. Tucking into an alley, you crouched and returned the arrows to their quiver with immense difficulty.
Okay, yes it was Hell but maybe you were a little paranoid. A sense of being watched wouldn't leave you even after you re-emerged from the darkness of the alley. 
The enormity of your task set in as you surveyed the area. You, an obviously heavenly creature even without your wings out on display, would need time to make anyone believe in any form of love. Where would you go in the meantime? And now injured for the first time in your life? How long would that need to mend?
Expanding your view, you saw the currently defunct doomsday countdown hovering above the embassy. Perfect, holy ground would atleast keep you safe for the night, which was falling with a malignant speed.
They couldn’t have given you some time to change? Or pack a set of clothes? Your short sleeved button up a (literally) glowing shade of white was attracting too much attention, golden sandals now cloudy from various fluids across Pentagram city’s streets. Your heart shaped overalls a powdered purple, you looked like an adult child among a sea of very tired professionals. 
When you got to the embassy you only had one good arm to open the heavy doors, which unfortunately didn’t budge. Perhaps you needed two? Trying to muster up some adrenaline, you began to pant. Deep breaths like the women in labour you sometimes worked your magic on.
As soon as you gripped the handle you saw something that made you jump back, muscles flexing around whatever damage you’d done in your body from the fall. A large black snake? Some demonic squid’s appendage? Something unholy grabbed hold of the handle as soon as you had and gave such a tug the doors violently shook.
You spun around to the dark neighborhood behind you. Nothing. Turning back the thing was gone. And so was all of your hope. It was locked. The tears were unwanted and unnecessary, but just-- you were hurting so much, you were dirty, you were alone, and now essentially homeless.
If there was ever a reason to cry, you decided to let yourself have this one. 
The lamplights flickered and the entire street went pitch black. Because of course it did.
Hyperventilating now entirely without intention, you watched as one light to the left popped on with a static buzz. Desperate to be out of the darkness you ran to the spotlight. As soon as your foot entered the beam, the light beside it lit up. Your eyes wandered to heaven above, were they helping you? Had you not been entirely abandoned?
Of course! Yeah. They sensed you at the doors and sent off some guidance. How silly of you. Relief washed over you as you ran through the lights until your foot left one spotlight but the next hadn't popped on.
Twirling back to the embassy, you saw all of the lights shut off in succession behind you.
Just you and the one lamp now, and the glow of some TVs in the shop window to the right. What was the meaning of this? 
That weird sound you heard earlier but couldn’t place… electricity but dusty and barely contained. Your gaze was drawn to the radio in the shop window in front of you. You hadn’t noticed it until it buzzed to life. It lit up faintly, dial turning on its own until a high and smooth voice rang out, “Looking for your way to heaven? You’re in luck! The Hazbin Hotel is now accepting any and all willing to find redemption!”
This must have been the message, I mean, heaven was never good at being subtle.
“Just make your way to the left and toward the looming building atop the hill!”
Your head turned to your left and then up slightly. Bathed in red and white lights stood a behemoth of a building on the edge of a cliff.
Head still facing the hotel, your eyes flitted back to the radio.
“Reception is open 24 hours a day!”
You touched your arm, then patted at your pockets. Not a wallet or ID card on you. You were the 17th Cupid incarnation, why would you have a fucking ID card? But didn’t those places need such things? You’d seen every romcom earth had ever produced. There was always some issue with hotel check ins. 
“Not a red cent needed! We literally do not care who you are!”
Oh. Wait. Was this a trap?
“Created by the Lucifer Morningstar’s daughter! A foolish young woman who genuinely believes in reforming sinners!”
Lucifer?? The former angel, yes, but the word angel carried much more weight now. Perhaps he would have a modicum of pity given your circumstances.
You took an unsteady foot forward and toward the hotel when the street lights all buzzed back to life.
The path to the hotel was long, many demons stopping you on your way but quickly losing interest after a second or two of pestering you. You gave a silent prayer to the archangels for that blessing.
It must have been nearly 1am when you finally made it to the hotel’s doors. When you entered you found an empty reception desk and a poorly written note:
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Before the bell’s hammer even hit the metal, a man popped up from behind the counter.
The man.
The man you shot with Mania.
“Welcome to th-,”
You were outside and leaving the awning before he could finish, but just as quickly as you left he appeared in front of you, “Still missing your manners?”
He blocked your path with his remarkable size. Why were demons so tall? What was the use of it?
“Deer got your tongue?” He bent over unnaturally at the waist.
“What?”
“Would you like-,” he began.
You walked around him and down the driveway. He moved briskly beside you, slowly growing larger and larger until his body was several stories tall and entirely blocking the gates of the premises.
A horror. Hell was full of horrors.
He crouched, large toothy smile now baring down at you.
If you stabbed him in the eye with an arrow, which would cause the least trouble? It was a rule to never give a double love bite but this was a dire situation.
But if you were sent to hell for a little nun love fest, what would purposefully stabbing a sinner do?
He rapidly shrank, hands coming to his front to catch a summoned microphone…Cane? Staff?
“You’re injured. Just, come back inside. I promise I don’t bite without consent.” His head cocked to the side, a quiet, “Usually” tacked on.
We’re you visibly hurt? How bad was it? You looked past him to where sounds of yelling and music were rolling up the hill.
“You don’t have many options, angel.” He hissed the word through clenched teeth. Disgust almost seemed to lace his voice, but why, then, was he offering help?
“Not an angel. Cupid. Different.” Kind of. You gave the quiver a shake.
“Ah yes. That explains why you shot at me earlier.” A large hand came to your side and directed you to turn back around. He kept it there, pushing softly to keep you moving.
“I didn't shoot you.”, You huffed, crossing your arms before doubling over in pain. He stopped walking, hand resting now against your spine. Regaining your composure, you continued towards the hotel lobby, “My arrows fell out and…you caught one. With your body.”
“My pocket made quite the lucky catch. Now!” He snapped, a key appearing and floating into his hand with a sparkle of neon green, “Let’s get you to a room and cleaned up.”
“Do you work here?” You asked as he escorted you to one of the upper floors. The room was surprisingly clean and well decorated. You had expected a dingy highway motel. And while the room was largely dark wood and rich colors, it wasn’t as offensive as the rest of hell had been.
“Ah! My my, forgive me! I am Alastor, the radio demon and hotel manager here.” He bowed and offered his hand for you to place yours in. You did so without thinking, and he kissed your knuckles once but his mouth lingered over your flesh. Eyes half lidded, he glanced back up at you, “It is an absolute pleasure to meet you.”
There was no way to reverse Cupid’s arrows. Not by force. Love could only die by the hands of the ones who held it. Others could definitely bruise it, but ultimately it was up to the beholder. Mania was a little different, obsession could be dispelled by shattering whatever illusion the holder felt.
If the holder thought someone was the epitome of genteel chastity then a show of wanton sexuality could break the spell. If someone was convinced the object of their desire was very smart and savvy then acting ignorant could make the obsession fall flat. But there was no indication he had any illusions of you. Not yet, atleast.
Mania was now his, and he would keep it in his heart until he lost it or killed it. He could, technically, be possessed by, and be in the possession of, Mania for eternity. A sinner had never been shot before, that you knew of.
He didn’t noticeably react as you took back your hand. With a hum, he snapped again and you found a chair pulled up behind you and knocking into the back of your knees. You fell into the plush armchair, watching a metal basin of steaming water slide against your feet.
“Excuse you— ExcUU-,” you pulled your legs back but he pulled harder, Alastor removing your dirty shoes and tossing them off to the side like trash.
“You can't clean yourself with that broken collar bone. Allow me.” His hand gripped your ankles and dunked both into the water, “I insist.”
“It’s broken? How could I break a collarbone…,” the humor wasn’t lost on you, sinner washing holy feet, but your focus was entirely on the concept of a broken bone. 
“Falling twenty five feet head first, apparently.” Alastor rubbed soap into your calves.
“But I don’t break.” What happened to you, what had that kick into hell done? “You saw me? Also, that isn’t dirty.” you pointed at your calf.
“Peripherally.”
Did he mean the dirt or witnessing the fall? You sat in silence while he hummed, returning your feet to their original color. 
“Now,” he rose, patting his hands dry on a small towel, “Unbutton your top.”
Your expression was apparently quite loud, Alastor putting his hands up quickly, “Not like that. I’ve no interest in that sort of thing. I need to see your shoulder and upper chest.” He waited patiently, staring at you the entire time. His smile was so wide, teeth yellow and sharp. Unsettling. 
He really did look like he could eat you. You’d heard of such demons.
You slipped off the straps of your overalls, and began to open your shirt. He did away with the water, coming to kneel directly to your right as he watched. You couldn’t see anything without some kind of mirror. If it was bruised or swollen, it was out of your line of sight. Long clawed hands came to the front and back of your shoulder, pressing inward. You pulled away, a firm grip now as his right hand held at the left side of your waist.
“Are you a doctor?” Hotel manager and doctor would be an unlikely combo, but the day had been odd from start to finish.
A shake of the head, “But when I was alive, I did have quite a lot of experience with the inner workings of anatomy.” You grimaced, how could he say such sinister things with such a lovely voice? “Maybe not broken. But I’d say at least a fracture. Perhaps your heavenly body didn’t take full damage. It hurts when you move your arm, correct?” You nodded. 
He hummed, another click of his fingers and a fabric unfurled into his waiting hands. “Take it all the way off so I can set this.”
You were exhausted. The pain was gnawing at your nerves. No more fight in you, you just wanted rest, so you slipped off the shirt entirely and let him wrap your arm up into a simple sling. You were surprised his hands were so warm. Demons seemed like they’d be cold to the touch. Like lizards or pearls.
When he finished, you sitting in the large chair with your arm wrapped in a silky black sling, no shirt, and pastel purple heart-shaped overalls folded down your torso, you considered having another cry. You felt your chin tremble. You couldn’t recall ever crying from sadness before today.
It was just a mistake. You hadn’t meant to drop your arrow. Why were the archangels so angry? What’s some sex between nuns? 
Alastor bristled, hand coming to your cheek. It was an unwelcome gesture. You batted his hand away with your only free one, but he just sighed and set it on your thigh. You pushed it off, shooting him a glare. The audacity.
You thought you saw his eye twitch.
With what little energy was left in, you stood and open the door for him, “You have been very kind and helpful. Thank you very much. You can leave now.” Oh, right, “Please.”
He stood, pausing as he passed you. He was so tall. Shoulders wide. You felt your heart rate pick up. Even with two good collarbones you knew you couldn’t take him in a fight.
Alastor leaned down to your level, you backing up and into the door, “Until the morning.”
When he said it you had thought he was just going about formalities. But he wasn’t. You awoke some hours later to a knock. When you opened the door he was looming in your doorway again.
You tried to close the door but he put his foot in the gap, then a strong hand wrapped around the door’s edge and he pushed his way into the room.
You sputtered, arm flailing a little as you choked on which reaction to give first. You were undressed, in just your under things.
“I don’t want you to hurt yourself further when you get dressed. I’ll undo the sling and help.” Closing the door he then spun back around to face you, smile as bright as it was earlier that same day. 
“No! Absolutely not! Leave! Please!”
As he guided your arm through the shirt, you struggled to process what had happened. One minute you were indignant and stubborn and then he was so close to you, hands warm and gentle, and then already he was untying the sling and your shirt was just there and-
“See? Wasn’t that easy? No harm in accepting help.” Alastor looked you over from top to bottom.  
“Accepting? What part of any of that did I accept.” You stood bottomless in a button up, trying to get the overalls from the hanger with just your left hand. His chest pressed into your back, nearly forcing you to fall into the armoire, to assist you.
“The part where you didn’t actively fight me. I think we can call that acceptance until you learn better.” His words shook through your ribs and to your front. 
Annoyance rose in your chest, what was he thinking? Humans had no right to touch you let alone a sinner. “You’re an eldritch horror, please back away from the divine creature before you.” Alastor laughed, backing away with the clothes in his hands. Hand out, you motioned for him to pass it over. He tossed it on the floor, and took a seat on the bed with crossed legs. “Oh, I see. You’re an asshole. Perfect.” Pretense gone, manners not needed.
You grabbed it with your left hand and managed to get both legs into it before slinking it up and onto your left shoulder. While you tried to figure out how to do the right side, realizing the flaw in your order of processes, Alastor leaned over and unhooked the left strap, overalls falling to the carpet with a soft thud. 
You stood there for several moments, staring at him with purple fabric pooled around your ankles, him staring at you with a shiteating grin.
After finally getting dressed, preferring to not think about how, you were followed down to the lobby. 
“Breakfast?” He asked, you both in the elevator as he hadn’t gone more than three feet from you since he entered your bedroom. 
“No, no appetite. I need to find Lucifer.” You were sure he could help somehow. Somehow he could do….something. Details about Lucifer’s powers and abilities, his strengths and skills were all kept hush-hush. But if nothing else, you could find someone who understood your position. 
Your hand was being vigorously shaken before the elevator doors even closed behind you. Charlie Morningstar was not what you expected.  Chipper and bright, she was bursting with energy. 
“Gentle, Charlie. Our dear Cupid is injured.” Alastor’s hand came to the small of your back. You reached back with your left hand and knocked it off of you. 
“Like, the real actual cupid?!” Charlie’s eyes were shining, you could almost see the hearts floating up around her face. You felt Alastor’s hand again, now on your hip. You took three steps to the right, slipping from his fingertips.
“Yes, that is exactly what I-.” You were cut off, Charlie launching into a speech about sinners and heaven and redemption and so much more you couldn’t process. 
The energy she gave us was very angelic, which was confusing. Until you saw her father entering the common area.
The most hated creature in all of creation. Your best hope for a tiny sliver of comfort. 
Alastor’s hand reached for yours, fingers trapping your wrist and stopping you from approaching the king of hell. 
You shook your arm. His hold stayed. You tugged. He was unaffected, talking to Charlie now about your injury as if you weren’t right there. 
As Cupid, or at least as a cupid, you weren’t physically strong. You really weren’t meant to exist for a long time, just for as long as your body held up to repeated trips to the human realm. But, in heaven, you were never capable of being harmed. And of course, on earth, you weren’t really corporeal so no harm could come to you. You weren’t built for tug of war with a 7 foot tall demon.
“Mr. Devil! Sir!” You waved your foot, shouting out to the normal sized man. As he saw you, his eyes widened, “Hello there! Sorry to be a bother, I’m from heaven and-” You jerked your hand free, power walking to Lucifer, “I’m here on punishment. It’s a pleasure to meet another member of Elysium’s caretakers. Former or otherwise.”
Flustered, Lucifer fumbled with his phone before dropping it. “Oh! Shit! H-hello!”
You reached down to retrieve it for him, seeing black and red shoes behind you as you did. 
“What — why are you here?” Lucifer was looking at Alastor now, which was great news because for a second you thought he was talking to you. A sneaking feeling leaked into your chest that heaven hadn’t actually told him you were coming. 
“Just keeping an eye on my guest! As you can see she got injured and I’ve taken to the task of her safety while she’s in hell.” 
“No one asked him to do that, sir.” Your smile was strained, you could feel Alastor’s shoulder was touching yours. You looked to where you were connected and then back to Lucifer, “Are all sinners like this?”
“Honestly? Yes. They’re all pretty terrible.” Lucifer sighed, “What did you do?”
A cold sweat, “Misused an arrow. I can’t leave hell until I make a demon who doesn’t already believe in true love…believe in it.”
“Oh no! That’s— you’re gonna be here awhile.” Lucifer pulled at his collar in a mock attempt to release the awkward heat of the conversation. He saw you wither, and Alastor seemed to bloom, so he quickly changed pace, “But! Uhhh, you can totally do it! Charlie has some of the best of the worst here. If I can ever help, just ask!” Nervous laughter that did not put you at ease. He seemed so silly. So sweet and easily flustered. 
You felt your hope dash for a second time in less than a day. How long would you be in hell? How long was awhile?
“She is my responsibility now. She won’t be needing anything from you, your majesty.”
A darkness came over you as the two demons began to bicker. You now had your own obsessed shadow; a large and creepy sinner following you around. How on earth could you get close enough to a demon to complete your task? Convincing someone of true love would require trust and time. This would be impossible with Alastor attached to your side. 
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You spent the first week in hell in the hotel. Everytime you got the courage to leave and explore the areas outside, you’d find yourself shadow portaled “back to safety” by Alastor. It was like the human film ‘Groundhog Day’, always starting over back in the lobby. 
No matter where you went in the hotel, he was either beside you or where you had been headed. You saw the sky less often than Alastor’s grin and you couldn’t stand it. You took to hiding, leaning against darkened stairwell corners and sitting on the floor of the ladies restroom. 
It bought you a little time to yourself, but the second you moved he was there again. Asking if you were a lost little doe, hand reaching for your waist to pull you near him, red eyes threatening to swallow you whole.
Toward the end of the week, while helping you get dressed as he did daily, Alastor took a step back. “I could get you some new clothes. Cannibal town has the finest duds.” He lifted the lace that lined the top of your  pocket, “You stick out. No demon is going to let you trick them into believing in true love like this.”
You could have screamed. No, no demon would even approach you with Alastor standing behind you. It absolutely wasn’t the clothes. You politely rejected the offer and went about your day.
The next morning you awoke to find your floor littered with strips of something. Flinging open the armoire you found two empty hangers. You turned back, noticing the white and purple color to the fabric confetti.
The march to Alastor’s room was easy, as it was 10 feet in front of your door. He had placed you directly across from him, because, ya know, Mania.
He clearly hadn’t expected you to leave your room in your underwear, eyes like saucers as he yanked you in.
“What in heaven are you doing?! Anyone could see you.” He hissed, closing the door with a little too much force.
“Whose fault is that?!” You seethed in return. Anger was something you rarely ever felt but he was inspiring new things in you. “Someone shredded my clothes.”
Alastor’s ears folded back, eyes looking to the left and up, “Odd. Are you sure? Maybe you accidentally threw them away.” That devilish grin you’d come to expect. He knew damn well how stupid that was.
You stomped your foot, if you had two working hands you’d try to rip his antlers off, “Are you serious?!” You turned to leave, kicking the door before attempting to open it.
A large hand pressed back on the door, slamming it shut. His breath was dropping down the back of your neck despite his considerable height, “You will not be leaving this room in such a state of undress, my dear.”
His voice was so low and close, had anyone ever spoken to you with such a commanding tone? A new feeling twitched in you. You blocked it out.
“You don’t get to make decisions for me,” said too softly.
His other hand came to press on the door, too. An arm to either side of you, trapped, as he leaned in. You pressed yourself against the door to make distance from his body.
“Oh, I absolutely do. Who is going to stop me? You?” Alastor’s voice had noticeably dropped an octave as he whispered what felt like a challenge against your hair.
Who indeed…you had no strength, an arrow would either be useless or complicate things. Lucifer seemed preoccupied and jittery. Heaven wasn’t returning your prayers.
He took your silence as an answer.
“Exactly. Now, I’ll only ask nicely once.” His hands left, warmth on your neck fading. You turned to look at him, sensing his eyes burning holes into your back.
He was holding a two piece set. Older style, 1920s American maybe. Black and burgundy. When did he have time to get this when every hour seemed to be spent near you?
“May I help you get dressed?”
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You’d gotten quite close with the few residents who didn’t run at the sight of Alastor. Husk was one of them. You became fast friends, often drinking and lamenting about Alastor’s general existence as Alastor sat some 15 feet away on the sofa. Still not allowed outside the hotel gates, your second week you spent many hours at the bar talking to the surprisingly kind grump.
To your delight Alastor didn’t seem bothered by it, oddly, as long as you were in eyesight he seemed content.
You thought maybe his mania was already waning. Sure you hadn’t attempted to leave the hotel, and you hadn’t argued when he dressed you, but…Ah, hm. Fuck.
Mania can look like Love when you don't struggle against it. A fly motionless in a web can elude the spider for a little bit.
Don't push against the restraints and you can forget they are there entirely.
But push you did, accidentally. Husk was making some new cocktails, trying to enjoy himself and be creative. 
“Yeah, that’s it.” He grinned.
“Good?” 
He took another sip before handing the glass to you. You grabbed it, taking a taste. Sweet but a bite as it went down. Something with citrus. When you looked up from the glass, he was gone.
A choking noise from behind the bar made you stand up in your seat, eyes flying from Husk to Alastor. A glowing green leash dragging Husk across the floor, his hands desperately pulling at the collar as he struggled to breath. 
“Stop!” You shouted, crawling over the bar and grabbing the chain with your good arm. You tried to pull back, to slow the choking force, but got pulled along with it. “Alastor!” You screamed as your shoulder hit the floor and sent searing pain down your arm. 
You could hear Husk gasp, the green glow disappearing from past your clenched eyelids. 
“Why can’t you-,” Alastor started to speak a he came to your side. Husk scurried away, crawling back from the demon. You hit the hand Alastor offered you but were surprised to see his face painted with concern.
“I said stop.” After rolling to your feet you began to march away. “Every time I find something nice in this piece of shit domain you remind me I’m in hell.”
You had almost made it to your room when a hand pulled you by the good shoulder and pushed you against the wall. It still hurt. 
“Don’t you know? Sharing a drink, it’s as close to a kiss as you could get without bringing your mouth to his.”
“It was a drink, Alastor. You had no right.”
His hand settled on your throat. No grip, just a gentle placement, “I have every right.” His brows knit together in worry, in confusion. “What should I do to make you understand me?” His hand came to your chin, thumb ghosting over your lips.
“If I let you go too far, someone will surely take you. Who wouldn’t? Please. Stop pushing me so much.” His eyes were almost loving as they shined down at you. His breath was picking up. You could hear the desperation in his voice. 
Those damned eyes were unrelenting in their stare into your own. There was no creature in presence or audacity in heaven like Alastor. You’d never encountered anything like him. 
“Of all the Love you had to take a stray hit from, Mania really was the cruelest accident.” You held your hand at the crook of your neck, wondering if you did more damage. No, if he did more damage.
“Mania? Is that the arrow I caught? How fitting.” His finger pulled down on your bottom lip. You’d seen this movie, you’d been there for these scenes in dorm rooms and under rainy awnings, in darkened beds and sunny fields. You could move, no part of him was actually holding you physically. “Yes, maybe I am obsessed. But whose fault is that? Will you take responsibility for it?” His chest was shaking with every breath. Why didn’t you move? Just walk away. Knock off that touch as you had been doing. You hadn’t noticed how quickly you were breathing, too, until his hand was pulling your chin up and towards his face.
It only came out as a whisper, half said as it was only half meant, “don’t.”
A laugh, “At least pretend you mean it.” 
Your knees came together in some desperate attempt to stop the feeling creeping up your legs and to your lap, “Apologize to Husk.”
“Why would I ever do such a thing?” His breath was so warm on your mouth, face tilted to keep his nose from hitting yours.
“What a terrible reply!” You slid down the wall and slipped under his arms, “If you shadow work your way into this room I will fuck that horny spider on camera just to spite you.” You opened your door, pausing to make sure he was still down the hall, “Angel on Angel, working title.”
Your whole body went slack, the sounds of a wild animal loose in the hallway rocking the door as you took shaky steps to the bed, paintings on the walls rattling as he did unseen damage. Sounds of an unknown, unholy animal raging just past the thin drywall. 
Had you ever seen Mania work so quickly with so little fuel? Hand coming to your mouth, a burning where his finger touched you. 
No one had touched your lips before. No one could ever hope to. Humans were beyond the realm of feeling you, and you didn’t allow kissing with the partners you took in heaven. Personal rule. As in, it was too personal.
The lights in your room flickered, briefly shrouding you in darkness before coming back to life.
Deja vu.
Oh.
What had he introduced himself as? The radio demon? It wasn’t heaven who brought you to the hotel. Of course not. 
No. Obviously not.
ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months
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Can we have more of domestic Jason but now with him needy of touch? 🥹
the reader got out of bed early to go drink water and he wakes up from a nightmare needing her and he thinks she left him and he starts crying in panic, but then she appears and calm him down with kisses, words of affirmation and lots of love.
Thank u! I love ur writing btw!!
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I don’t know if this is what you have in mind, the ending might be a little half-assed but I was half asleep whilst making this 🦦also thank you for enjoying my writing! It really means a lot!
Your side of the bed had barely gone cold which indicated that it hadn’t been long ago that you had left but it was the reason why you’ve left that haunted Jason, who was fresh out of a nightmare and drenched in his own sweat and finding difficulty in calming his uneven breaths.
He had meant to reach out to you for comfort.
Only to be greeted by air just as palm of his hand then hit the lukewarm mattress below.
It was enough to break Jason’s resolve as his innate belief that everyone he ever cared for was destined to leave him- especially you- began to worsen with every passing second the longer Jason allowed himself to be poisoned by the possibilities that you were gone. Disappeared. Or worse yet; taken.
‘Y/n?’ He calls out softly.
‘Baby?’ He tries again, a little louder this time, not having realised that his eyes had started to tear up and blur his vision of his dark room, or that a lump in his throat had started to form, making it difficult for him to swallow down his overwhelming anxiety.
‘Don’t leave me here…please don’t leave me all lone.’ Jason pleads with the darkness of his room as though that would be enough to give you back to him. ‘Haven’t I done that enough?’ He then asks as he clenched the bedsheets between his powerful hands, trying to bound himself to something to combat his discomfort in being left alone with his mind for too long. ‘Being left alone when I was proven too difficult to save? Too far gone to be helped? Am I just that broken to be given just a sliver of happiness?’ He cries out at he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes as he chocked back his own sobs.
Despite building himself a strong body that could endure punishment, the pain of that of an broken heart had been so excruciating it had Jason keeling over in bed, wanting nothing more then to tear it out of his chest as though it burned him; Or was it in fact just phantom pains from a heart that had been hollowed out by the hands of another.
The door to the room opened and golden light flooded in, eradicating the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole. ‘Jason?’ Your voice called out and Jason never felt more alive than he did in hearing you say his name in that angelic voice of yours, so much so that he didn’t notice that he had begun to cry harder but out of relief this time. ‘I thought- I thought you left. I couldn’t feel you. I tried reaching for you but you weren’t there.’ He began to say but was cut off when you brought him tightly into your arms.
‘Im sorry that I kept you waiting my beautiful boy.’ You cooed as your fingers reached up to comb through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp now and then to assure him of your presence. Jason didn’t hesitate to bring you into his lap as he buried his head deep into your shoulder, wiping his tears against your sleep shirt, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he was holding onto you as though you were bound to disappear once he lets go. ‘Where did you go?’ He asks. ‘I got a little thirsty and so I went to get a drink of water.’ You explained, kissing him anywhere that was made available to you.
‘You’ve been strong for a long, long time and I’ve never been more prouder of you for holding out as long as you have with everything you’ve been through, it never fails to amaze me how resilient you are Jaybirdie.’ You felt his breathing even out as he began to lean back into the bed, still holding onto you. ‘You’re truly an incredible man for being able to stand on your own two feet and still find it within yourself to fight.’ You softly told him as you continued to hold him in your arms as he squeezed your waist in response. ‘I’m so unbelievably lucky to have someone like you in my life and I will do everything in my power to make you believe that.’ You promised him.
‘Even if it’s impossible and might take forever.’ Jason says, starting to feel the lull of sleep as it began to weigh heavily on his eyelids.
You smile softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. ‘Even if it takes an eternity I would still find a way to prove just how beautiful you are.’ You replied, nuzzling into him as his bodily warmth began to ease you into a sense of security. ‘You are the most beautiful man I have ever met Jason Todd.’ You moved to look him in the eyes. ‘A butterfly may not be able to see the colour of their wings but that doesn’t retract the fact that they’re undeniably beautiful.’ You added as you pressed a couple of kissed to his forehead. ‘Now gets some sleep my beautiful boy, I’ll be here when you wake up.’
‘You promise?’ Jason asked, biting back a yawn.
‘I’d be stupid to break a promise I made to you.’ You responded, thinking all was said and done when Jason brought a hand up to your face, showing you his outstretched pinky. ‘Pinky promise me that you’ll be here with me when I wake up.’ He says and you smile softly at the inherent innocence of that of a pinkie promise but still went ahead and linked your pinky with his, pressing a kiss to his calloused and scarred hand with reverence before resting it on his chest. ‘I pinky promise that I’ll be here when you wake up. Was that good?’
‘We’ll see in the morning when I get to wake up to you chipmunk.’ Jason replied, holding you more against his chest and fell asleep but you weren’t complying as you soon followed him into dreamland, your pinkies still linked to one another as a reminder of your promise.
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queer-for-science · 1 year
Text
One of my closest friends I aroace, and he's talked to me about the experience of being made to feel like he's missing out on something or getting left behind in a way when his loved ones enter romantic relationships. But it really hit home for me how much he deals with and expects this recently when I started dating someone new after being single for a few months and I wanted to share.
During the months I was single, we got a lot closer and we both relied on each other more to have our needs for love fulfilled. For example, we both have physical touch as a primary love language, so we did a lot of platonic physical affection and cuddling. We became main supports in each other's lives even more than before. But the day I told my friend about my new partner and my friend met him, he seemed to kind of instantly back off a bit. He and my partner get along really, really well too. He mentioned that he didnt expect my partner and I to make the hour drive to visit him as often because "it's not like the nature of y'alls relationship". I'm having difficulty explaining, but it was apparent that my friend expected to be taking a back seat to this new relationship in my life despite the fact that I know my friend way better and that broke my heart a bit. I immediately thought, how many times has he had to deal with that? How many beloved friends has he lost to this situation? That must be so horrible to go through! I still very much consider him one of my closest supports and while I know it would never be a necessary choice I would absolutely choose him over a partner I haven't had nearly as much time with. I really want to find a way to tell him that he isn't any less of a priority to me just because I'm not single anymore and I think it's important for us alloromantics to remind our aro and aroace friends of things like that. It's even more important to stick to that statement and show them we mean it.
My aroace friends, you deserve people in your life that prioritize you and engage in the kinds of intimacy you need. You deserve just as much closeness and love as anyone else and you will find it if thats what you want. You don't deserve being put on the back burner when your loved ones get into new romantic relationships and it's really shitty that so many people do that.
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juicedaloe · 9 months
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Mithrun and brain damage
I'm not sure if anyone is interested in this, but I wanted to make a post talking about why I think that Mithrun has brain damage from a traumatic brain injury instead of him being a representation of other neurological disorders or mental illness. I'm not that involved in the dunmesh fandom so I don't know how common this headcanon is, though I've seen a few people mention it here and there.
This is just my own opinion so if you disagree then that's fine. Some of this is just speculation and I can't say what Kui's intentions were. This post isn't meant to be that serious. I just wanted to talk about it and hopefully inform about how brain damage can affect some people in a way that I hope is interesting and relevant.
This will be kind of long because I like to talk so it will be under the cut. Apologies for the length and how much I ramble. Feel free to give input especially if I got anything wrong or if this is too confusing.
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Okay let's go
Traumatic brain injury (TBI) is incredibly complex. The long-term effects of a TBI include a wide array of symptoms. Each injury is different, and some people can completely recover rather quickly while others can become permanently disabled, even for seemingly "minor" injuries. What I'll cover here isn't a definitive representation of the experiences of all those who have long-term effects from TBI, nor do I speak for everyone with brain damage.
Here are some long term symptoms relevant to this post:
Alexithymia (inability to process and name emotions)
Inability to process and name physical perceptions
Mood swings and emotional regulation difficulties
Communication difficulties
Social impairment
Apathy about caring for oneself
Lack of motivation
Alexithymia and inability to process physical perceptions
This one is rather obvious. While Mithrun is shown to feel emotions and have physical sensations (for instance, describing his location when he gets lost in the dungeon as "a cold place"), he is also apathetic to how this affects him. This means that his physical and emotional perceptions are reduced in some way. He says that becoming lord of the dungeon will leave someone "empty", showing he is aware of his dulled emotional state.
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A good example of this is can be seen here in a bonus comic where he doesn't give much of a reaction to burning his mouth on hot food.
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(I love these two a lot, by the way. Pattadol is really under appreciated.)
He is also not able to recognize bodily signals, such as hunger or when he is tired. Despite collapsing from exhaustion and not eating for long periods of time, he still insists he is not tired or hungry.
Mood swings
Mood swings in combination with alexithymia can be an especially disorientating experience. Those who struggle to perceive their own emotions can still feel them even if they don't know how to recognize it.
Individuals with brain injuries often experience drastic mood swings, particularly anger. To those around them, they can appear to go from 0 to 100 in an instant.
This is more speculation/headcanon on my part, as the strongest emotion Mithrun has for most of his appearances is anger. However one could interpret this as being unrelated as he is seeking revenge for a traumatic experience.
Communication difficulties and social impairment
Not only can naming personal experiences be incredibly difficult with a brain injury, but other areas of communication are often affected as well.
Mithrun is not able to set boundaries for himself even if someone is doing something he would not actually want them to do, which can leave him in a vulnerable position.
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People with brain injuries can sometimes have a paradoxical experience when it comes to communicating with others. They can go from being very quiet to speaking at length about one topic, seemingly without regard for the importance of each bit of information. (I see it like Newton's first law of motion. It is hard to start speaking and it can be just as hard to stop.)
I really like this aspect of Mithrun's characterization. Usually, he is very quiet because he has no reason to speak. However, once he starts talking he is shown to be overly specific and goes on for long periods of time. Kabru has to spend multiple days figuring out his story.
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In a side comic, Kabru tells Mithrun he should condense some of the personal details that Kabru finds irrelevant to the topic of the dungeon.
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Mithrun shares many details about himself because his desire not to do so is gone. This mirrors the experience of many people who have brain damage to overshare and not understand how their words will come across to others. Sometimes they say or do things that are insensitive or inappropriate for the situation.
Caring for oneself and motivation
In the dungeon, Mithrun becomes reliant on others for self care. He also seems especially incapable of motivating himself to take care of his body when he is particularly focused on his goals.
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In these panels, thus far he had been fairly receptive of Kabru trying to take care of him. However, he could sense that the demon was close and was too focused on that to care to eat.
Refusal of care and treatment is often an effect of traumatic brain injury. This can be for seemingly no reason, even if the person knows that this will help them. Sometimes people will lie about receiving treatment or doing things to take care of themselves, either so they can avoid it or avoid having someone take care of them.
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He knows that eating regularly and not pushing himself too much will help him - he's been told multiple times on-screen - but he still has to be continuously told by others to give him that motivation to take care of himself. He's very apathetic to his physical state, even if it seems his only desire is for revenge and he should be doing anything he can to achieve that.
Other things of note
I wasn't sure where to put this, but while Mithrun's sense of direction is speculated by Kabru to be left over from his time as lord of an ever-changing, confusing dungeon, having poor sense of direction in the way he does could also be indicative of brain injury as well.
While the dungeon is confusing and illogical, he is known to have a poor sense of direction and to get frequently lost by those around him, even trying to exit an entrance he just came through. He is shown to be very intelligent, but memory is greatly impacted by brain injuries which affects a person's sense of direction and location.
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Something that really stands out to me about Mithrun is how much the things that help him are particularly helpful to those with brain damage. He is physically capable of performing tasks, but he needs an outside source to remind him and get him started. He relies entirely on routine, and when that regularity is taken away he shows extreme difficulty taking care of himself.
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Sometimes, the care that some people need is simply someone else to encourage them or to tell them when to do things. The care that he needs is pretty consistent with a person with a brain injury who does not need a full time caretaker and would prefer to have some independence.
Also, healing magic is specified to not work with brain injury unless the person is killed and revived. Mithrun had not been revived after his injuries, so it is entirely possible for him to have sustained a TBI. I don't think this matters that much because one is still allowed to have headcanons even if there is a magical explanation or isn't really possible in canon, but I thought it was an interesting detail.
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In conclusion
Because of all this I don't believe that his lack of self care is due solely to mental illness. While mental illnesses like depression or PTSD can cause a decline in self care, the reasons why the affected individual is avoidant of these tasks differs. These disorders can also cause cognitive difficulties and emotional regulation issues, but not to the same extent or in the same way that brain damage would. I think that he does have both depression and PTSD (both are common after a TBI) but those are not his only disabilities.
And on a personal note, I just think that having a character with brain damage is really cool. Most of the time I've seen it the characters are not given very much respect and they are treated as comic relief and a joke. Regardless of whether you agree with this post or not, it is still nice to see a character with a disability like this.
Thank you if you read all of this. I hope it was easy to understand and I did not ramble too much. I don't have anything else to say but I've been wanting to write this out for a while.
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Okay bye
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Text
| Shut up for me, love, | (part 2)
Part 1 (finding out you're pregnant w/Megumi)
Toji Fushiguro x Wife!Reader
Toji can't help but love you and your baby bump!
Word Count: 1.6k
CW: SFW, domestic fluff, Toji has a job, slightly suggestive, lots of pregnancy (mentions symptoms)
A/n: This has generated so many pregnancy fic ideas...
Your husband, Toji, had been a great help through the first trimester of your pregnancy. He was always giving you massages, bringing you water and snacks, and spending lots of quality time with you, among other things, and you were very grateful for it all. 
Many changes were going on throughout your pregnancy, as to be expected now in your second trimester. While the morning sickness was now gone, there was a number of new troubles you could note. Most importantly, the bump. 
For the most part it was a blessing, even when it caused a number of effects, such as walking differently and feeling a rather strange weight on your hips, something you hadn’t dealt with beforehand. It was proof of a growing baby, and both you and Toji couldn’t be more happy about it. Instead, the effects it had on your husband were the real concerns. 
When you were starting to show, your husband couldn’t stop taking pictures of you. It was quite out of the ordinary for Toji, who rarely ever customized anything on his phone or computer, when he finally took it upon himself to learn such things, pasting your image everywhere he could. His new favorite pastime during breaks at work was scrolling through his pictures of you (some of which were taken in the last 5 hours), saving them in a special folder and smiling to himself. 
Your pregnancy in general made him clingy. Along with the pictures, he cut his hours at work and stayed home to assist you, which was appreciated but put a hindrance in your housework. Toji would stand around watching you do everything from unloading the dishwasher to changing the sheets on the bed, leaning against the wall as he tried to lock eyes much to your dismay. 
Fully confident in your ability to do such things, he still found himself keeping a much closer eye on you, only comforted when he was in the same house and could hear, if not see, you. Toji had already began to realize this himself, that it wasn’t an increase in safety concern that caused his behavior. While he always wanted to have eyes on you, to make sure you were out of harm’s way regardless of your pregnancy, there was something he missed so much when he was away from you. 
Watching you cover your swollen tummy with a nightgown, one he picked out specially for you on a shopping trip. It sinched in high, right above the bump that was evident and growing larger each day. Seeing the light apprehension you had when bending down to pick things up, and hearing the compliments your friends gave you whenever they saw you, asking how the baby was coming along. Little things were a constant, and appreciated reminder for him that the two of you were building your family together. Something he loved more than anything. 
Because of this, your husband stopped doing his regular outings all together. Usually he would go out to watch sports and drink with his friends at least once a week or so. Him being gone gave you more time without him interrupting your chores, and he was careful with you in mind. But this new Toji, that was a soon-to-be father, figured he could just watch the game on the TV and didn’t need to go out anymore despite your protests.
“It would save us money, we should be saving up for the nursery,” Toji argued, sitting down on the couch. “I know, honey, but…,” you tried to explain to him, just how annoying he had been. Staring at you all the time, offering you a hand for every minuscule task the moment you had any difficulty with it. Reaching up ahead of you to the top cabinet and grabbing the bowl you were trying to get, when there was a stepping stool right next to you. 
It made you embarrassed, really. His eyes always so sharp, the way he looked at you every time you mistakenly fell into his trap, breaking your three minute personal best at ignoring him properly. Your cheeks heated up each time, scoffing a little as you turned back to the dirty dishes in the sink. It was truly bothersome (in some ways more than others). 
And so, it led to his great discovery of at-home sports streaming. Toji was sprawled out on the loveseat everyday, after he got home from work. Carefully using up his extra home hours, after you persistently told him to give you some space. 
While Toji enjoyed his free time, you, on the other hand, were doing laundry. The warmth of a fresh dry load, coupled with the absence of breathing down your neck, allowed you to relax for a brief moment. You piled all the clothes into a large basket, making your way down the hallway to the living room, where you usually folded it. 
Except… Toji was there. You turned around, hearing the voice of a dull commentator surely explaining something interesting, though what it was you didn’t know. Your house didn’t have too many rooms, and usually the bedroom or even the laundry room would work just fine for folding… if you could bend down well enough. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, your feet barely touched the floor from how high up it was. Bending down over the bump was impossible to do comfortably, and the task could only be done at all if you leaned down to the side and awkwardly grabbed at the basket below while maintaining your balance. 
After a few more attempts, you figured out that there wasn’t enough room on the floor and sitting like that wasn’t very comfortable for long periods of time either. You were reminded why the living room had been your favorite for doing this task, the couch was low enough and comfortable to sit on, with space for folded clothes on the side. 
Holding the basket with two hands, you stood in the hallway watching around the corner to observe your husband’s movements. Toji was lounging comfortably, with one arm laid across the top of the couch. His legs were spread wide, covering most of the seating area. If the game was almost over, there would be no reason to ask him to move… or so you thought. 
The two of you were in reverse positions, your eyes almost trying to lock with his as you admired them from afar, your original mission forgotten as he stared intently at the screen and rubbed the tiredness from his face. Now unlike you, he found your gaze to be rather relaxing, enjoying it before you would inevitably make your move. His chuckle didn’t come from the commercial on the screen, but from you, who was still standing there after 10 minutes, greatly struggling to hold the basket which was feeling extremely heavy. 
Setting it down would make a noise, so you finally decided to give up on finding some kind of good time to interject. “Is the game almost over?” You asked meekly, setting the basket down in the middle of the floor. “10 minutes, about,” he replied, still staring at the screen. You huffed under your breath, unsure of what to say. To that, Toji smirked to himself. He knew exactly what you wanted, and was very much prepared to give it to you… but why not have some fun with it?
“Need a little help?” He asked while you walked a bit closer in curiosity. “My wife doesn’t know what she wants, it’s my duty to give her some guidance…” he finally tilted his head towards you, though he had been ignoring the screen since you arrived. “C’mere… lil’ closer…” he motioned at you, as you looked at him confused. 
It only took him a second to stand up and move behind you, throwing his arms underneath your legs and back, carrying you to the couch with him. He settled you down between his legs, his body back how it was before like nothing had even happened. 
“It’s more comfortable with that bump, hmm?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “I still have to have room to do the laundry, Toji…” he chuckled, moving his legs closer together so you could feel them squishing your thighs. “That better?” you turned your head to blushing smile on your face. 
Toji grabbed the remote while you dragged the basket closer with your foot, still trapped between him. “But there’s only 10 minutes,” you watched as he changed the channel to a show you liked. “I’m gonna lose anyway, what does it matter,” he muttered. “I thought you said you stopped doing that!” you scoffed, looking back at your husband who rolled his eyes. “It’s five bucks, a work thing people are doing,” you shook your head in disapproval. 
As you relaxed into his lap, you got to folding. Part of the enjoyment you felt was due to your husband, softly rubbing your back and occasionally playing with your hair as you got to work. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to kiss me,” you frowned facing the TV, though Toji could still sense your disappointment. “That’s your reward for getting this done - I’m gettin’ pretty hungry…” he continued his massage, but wrapped his arms around your waist to hold your belly. You would make dinner after you finished.
“It feels good Toji, thank you,” you sunk back enjoying the feeling. “You deserve it, you’re doin’ so good, my wife,” a blush crept onto your face again from his words. “Was gonna ask you for a date night sometime anyway,” he mentioned, “and there’s no time like the present.” Toji gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. “So just stay nice… and… still…” he smirked. “Once you’re done, we have the whole night ahead of us.”
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primofate · 2 years
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You faint during an argument/disagreement [Genshin Impact] (Part 1)
Summary: You’ve been feeling under the weather for the whole day, you just didn’t bother to tell him nor anyone, thinking that the headache would go away. He doesn’t notice at all due to him getting caught up with some work, or in general just having a bad day himself. 
Notes and credits: Wholly inspired by minejiro.tumblr.com (They’re inactive now, according to the blog, but they wrote a Haikyuu one a while ago and I loved their rendition of it so much that I just had to bring it over to Genshin. I asked them for permission a while ago and they agreed :D)
Characters: Tartaglia, Diluc, Zhongli, gn!reader
Warnings: might have some harsh words/arguments, fainting spells, feeling unwell, panic attacks/hyperventilating maybe, not proofread, you and the genshin character live together, I seriously had trouble writing about what you might argue about with Diluc and Zhongli because these two are usually calm and collected. Not really a disagreement on Zhongli’s part, maybe just a misunderstanding. zhongli changes your clothes but its completely innocent.
Tartaglia
Could have a short-temper, depending on how his day has gone.
He adores you and thinks you’re his whole world but he does get some stressors once in a while, mainly because he works in the Fatui
Could easily overlook things when he has a lot of things on his mind
He comes home today tired and rather annoyed. Something about Dottore not taking his suggestions seriously, and Pierro never taking his side. It must be one of those Harbinger meetings again. He always seemed to be in a sour mood after one.
He hangs his coat on the hanger by the door, kicking his boots off and wanting nothing more than a hot bath, a quiet dinner and spending some rest and relaxation with you. “Y/N?” he calls through the house and you, half awake on your shared bed, stir a little, pushing yourself up with difficulty.
It feels so hot, despite the cold country you were in. “Tartaglia, welcome home. I’m just in the room,” you call out, stilling to hear his response. Tartaglia thought it was a little weird, cause you would usually come up to greet him when he arrived, but he just guessed that you were busy with something in the room. 
“Alright! I’m taking a bath first, love,” he shouts. “Have you eaten?” He asks and you answer after a short pause, mostly because you found it difficult to even concentrate on keeping upright, and you wondered if you could handle preparing dinner today.
“I haven’t, I’ll get it ready when you finish,” Still, maybe you just needed to walk around a little and get some fresh air. So, as he took his time in the bathroom you struggled to make dinner, in the end you only made enough for him, seeing as you didn’t have an appetite today. 
“Here you go,” You smile at him as he dries his hair, putting down the meal in front of him. If he wasn’t busy, he actually cooks a lot for you too, it just so happened that it was your turn today. 
He blinks when he sees that there’s only one set of food just enough for him. He narrows his eyes, a little disappointed that you didn’t seem to be planning on eating with him. He was looking forward to spending a bit of time with you.
“You’re not eating?” He asks and you shake your head.
“No, I don’t feel like it,” you simply reply and you hear him scoff a little. 
“Don’t feel like it? Well, that’s okay. Are you at least going to sit and talk with me while I eat?” He looked as if he wanted to vent about something, but your head was really bothering you now.
“...Actually I was just planning on going to bed early today...” You breathe out, your eyes dart up to the ceiling, it looks to be swaying a little. 
“...You know, I wonder why you’re so tired. You had a day off today,” Tartaglia’s voice borders on mocking, as if accusing you of doing nothing all day and yet going to bed earlier than him who was at work till late.
“I’m not feeling well Tartaglia, that’s all,” You quip back with a sigh and move away to get yourself a glass of water. The clink of cutlery against the plate signals to you that he started eating, but not before he mutters a resentful “Suit yourself...” 
You ignore him, having no energy at all to argue and bring back the glass of water with you to the room. You left the bedroom door open, just to get a bit of air circulation, but you stop in your tracks when the walls start to turn into squiggles, your perception of reality starts to distort and you try your best to tell yourself the bed is just there, just a few steps away. 
A sharp pain attacks your temples and you drop the glass, it shattering on the floor just before you yourself come toppling down on your side, blacked out. 
Tartaglia freezes at the sound, he’s midway to taking a bite of the stabbed steak on his fork but he retracts it to call out to you again. “Y/N?” You’ve disappeared into the room already and he can’t see what’s going on, but the sound had alarmed him. He waits a few seconds, before he drops his cutlery and pushes his chair back to stand and check on you.
“Y/N?” He repeats, walking at a leisurely pace over to the room. His mouth falls open at the sight of shattered glass but his throat closes up at your unconscious form. “Y/N?!” He hurries next to you and cradles your upper body in his arms, patting your cheek to get some sort of response from you. “Y/N, hey,” he gently tries to coax you into waking up, but realizes that it’s not working.
Now he’s conscious of the way your face flushes pink, and now it dawns on him that you really weren’t feeling well, your forehead was burning up. He picks you up and sets you down on the bed, calling for a doctor immediately. 
“Are they okay?” Tartaglia asks once the doctor was done checking up on you. The doctor shrugs. “Not to worry, it’s just a simple fever. They’ll be fine with some bed rest,” The relief that spreads through his being is unreal. For a moment he thought it was something serious, you’d never fainted before, and he was also just guilty that he didn’t spot it out sooner. 
When you woke up he was still awake and sitting on a chair next to you, there’s a damp cloth on your forehead and it takes you a moment to piece together what happened. You sighed and closed your eyes again, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pass out, it was just--” and you started to feel nauseous again. 
Tartaglia gave you a stern look. “Don’t apologize for that, stop thinking too much and rest,” You obeyed as he continues. “You could’ve told me earlier that you were feeling unwell,” he rants. 
“I DID tell you I was feeling unwell, you were just being snappy today,” you state as a matter of factly. That makes him open his mouth then close it again, defeated by your statement. 
“...I know, I’m sorry... That wasn’t...my best moment,” he admits and has a look of regret on his face. You sigh and shake your head a little, used to his tantrums from time to time. He asks you once again, now willing to make up for it and make amends. “Is there anything I can do for you? Do you need anything? You haven’t eaten so I made some food in case you were hungry,” 
And there’s the doting Tartaglia that you knew. The one that always listened to your beck and call, he’s like putty in your hands, just melts at the sight of you. “I’m alright honey, I just need some sleep. Come join me? You must be tired as well,” 
He sighs again, unsatisfied with how little he has done but relents and leans forward to land a kiss on your forehead. “Alright, but wake me up if you feel worse, got it?”
Diluc
Has deep-set issues, particularly when it came to family. 
You’ve always tried to repair his relationship with Kaeya but soon noticed that it probably wasn’t your business, despite Diluc respecting you a lot and putting your opinions in high regard.
He was just a little sensitive when it came to topics like that.
“It was just a suggestion ‘Luc. You don’t have to think too much about it,” Said suggestion was you wanting to spend your birthday with your beloved partner, but also the Knights of Favonius. However, you weren’t really one for eating out or fancy dinners, so you suggested that your birthday lunch could be done in the mansion, essentially suggesting that you wanted to invite them to Diluc’s house. 
Maybe you imposed too much, but Diluc’s face fell the moment that suggestion came out into the open. “You say not to think too much about it but this is something that YOU want, it’s your birthday wish, how can I say no?” he counters and you can feel a petty argument coming up.
Your hand absentmindedly massages your forehead as you sit at the long table, eyes closed and focusing on the soothing sensation. “I have other birthday wishes Diluc, and I’m flexible, we don’t have to do something that you don’t want,”
“And like I said, this is the FIRST suggestion you made, which means that you must like this idea the most,” He crosses his arms over his chest, gaze lingering over you, clearly disappointed. 
“I didn’t mean for it to come off like that, I promise we don’t have to do this. It’s selfish of me to assume that I can use your house for anything I want anyway,” You attempt to give him a small smile, but he looks to be past being nice.
“I wish you had thought about that before saying anything,” He continues, gaze stern. “Instead of spilling it out and making me feel as if I have no choice in the matter,”
“It.was.a.suggestion.” You say in between grit teeth. This wasn’t helping the intense headache you were having right now.
“Clearly you haven’t been listening at all,” Your eyes snap up to look at Diluc, he had never taken that tone towards you before. He sounded extremely displeased. “If you MADE the suggestion, then it means that it’s something that you WANT. Is this something that’s not clear to you?”
You wince at the tone he takes, somehow a part of you starts to unravel, as if you feel like you don’t know this person in front of you. “Diluc, that’s not--”
“And for someone like me, who only wants the best for you, I have to follow every wish that you desire,” there’s a sarcastic tone to his voice, like the tone he takes towards Kaeya and it somehow bruises you so well. 
He starts to look as if he hates you, or was that your imagination? His mouth keeps moving, but none of the words register in your mind. You can’t grasp the fact that Diluc is angry at you. Your usually sweet and subtle Diluc is gone. It suddenly feels like the ground under you is falling apart. You stand up all of a sudden and feel your breath waver.
Diluc cuts his speech off, watching as you anchor yourself to the table with both arms. Your breathing is deep and your hands are trembling. “...Y/N?” You shake your head, unable to answer him because all you can feel is the sense of doom, as if the world was ending. Your peaceful world with Diluc shattered all because of a selfish request you made. 
“Y/N,” Diluc stands when he finally realizes somethings wrong, you’re sweating and you’re breathing so heavily, as if you couldn’t catch your breath. He takes you into his arms hoping that it was some form of comfort. “Y/N, deep breaths, you’re fine, love,” 
But you go limp in his arms and it takes him a huge amount of self control not to panic himself. He races up the stairs to put you on the bed, opening the windows to give you some air and asking one of the passing by maids to call a doctor. 
Sure enough as Diluc describes what happened the doctor confirms that you were probably overwhelmed and panicked, in addition to running a small fever. He feels like trash after that, and almost wants to stab himself for engaging in such petty squabble with you. 
When you wake up you hardly remember what happened, until you see Diluc’s concerned face looking at you and you can’t help but wince at the expression you remember on him. You almost can’t bring yourself to look at him and instinctively turn your face away. 
That breaks his heart into pieces. “Y/N, I...” he sits at the edge of the bed next to you, carefully placing a hand on your shoulder. “Is it ok if you look at me, love?” He gently requests and you blink, unsure of why you were so deterred by him. 
“I don’t mean to look away, it’s just...I don’t want you to hate me,” because that’s the look you remember on his face, like he despised you. 
You hear his intake of breath. “Y/N I can never hate you,” he explains. “I...I apologize, I should have dropped the matter and listened to you but I was...I only wanted to have your wishes come true, but I didn’t know how to do that with your request, so I...” he paused a little, and realized that the more he talked the more it sounded stupid. He opts to change his direction. “...I won’t ask for your forgiveness but...please, let me take care of you,” 
Diluc had always been sincere with his feelings towards you, and you knew that was hard for him. In some senses you understood where he was coming from, and you also played a part in the little disagreement. You sigh and your eyes easily glide towards him. “...It’s alright ‘Luc, let’s not dwell on it anymore, okay? We can talk about it tomorrow...I’m a little tired right now,”
It seems as if he breathes a sigh of relief at your nickname for him, that brought a little bit of normalcy back into the situation. “Of course,” he agrees and brushes your forehead with his hand. “You’re still running a fever, I’ll wake you up when it’s time to take your medications,” 
“You’re not sleeping with me?” You ask and he takes a moment to answer.
“...Not yet, I...I’m not all that tired yet,” 
In reality, as you slept peacefully on your shared bed he tenderly looks at you and drowns in his regret, unable to believe that he had pushed you over the edge and thinking over and over again that he doesn’t deserve you in his life, but he will definitely fight to be better and worthy of you.
Zhongli
Rarely gets angry and you rarely have arguments or disagreements with him because he’s always wiling to communicate or see other people’s point of view.
It doesn’t mean that he never gets displeased though, he’s just good at hiding it or concealing it with better sounding words.
Zhongli sometimes likes to make trades with the people of Liyue, mostly for valuable ore, artifacts or keepsakes. When he does this he usually has you to tag along (mostly because he can’t keep track of how much mora he has and relies on you to guide him through that part)
“Ready, darling?” Zhongli asks, his hand placing itself on the small of your back. You’re jolted to attention and you look up at him with a smile. 
“Mmhmm, I have our balances and notes ready,” It was like a small hobby of yours and his, collecting treasures and valuable artifacts. It was really mostly his thing, you just loved watching him converse with others and bargain his way through, even though he wasn’t good at it. That’s what you were there for. 
Today, however, you’re a little out of it because of a dull pain on the whole front part of your head. It somewhat feels as if you’d been punched in the nose, and the pain was resonating upwards to your forehead. It was a strange feeling, but you pushed through it and thought that it wasn’t a big deal. 
Stepping out of your home you instantly realized that this was not going to be a good day. The sun was high in the sky and it was sweltering hot, you were already sweating 5 minutes into walking. Luckily, the man you were trading with opted to meet at a nearby teahouse so you arrived and sat down. The only unfortunate thing was that the seating was outdoors, and so you couldn’t completely escape the heat.
The man greeted the two of you, and invited you to sit. The talks started at once, with Zhongli first relaying a wonderful story about the artifact the man possessed. Frankly you were hardly listening, all you could focus on was how uncomfortable the sweat running down your neck was, for a moment you thought to excuse yourself, but that was strange since you just arrived. 
You toughed it out, and tried to keep up with the conversation, opening the notebook on the table as the servers continued to pour tea. 
“100,000 mora is not a bad price,” You heard Zhongli state, and that was usually your cue to follow up on your approval or disapproval, but this time, it took you longer than usual to think. 
“Ah, um...” You looked at the notes in front of you, you barely wrote anything and the letters were starting to look a little blurred. “A 100,000 mora is fine indeed, but since it’s a little aged and older now, it wouldn’t be impossible to lower the price down to 80,000, right, good sir?” You forced a smile.
Zhongli has a good eye, and observes that you’re rather out of your element today, though he’s unsure what the problem was, so he continues the talk further. 
Somewhere down the conversation the two of them look at you, and you blink back at them. There are questioning gazes on their faces and you realize that they had asked you a question. 
“Oh...I...apologize, could you repeat that? I must have missed the question,” The man chuckles and talks, but you could only see his mouth moving and there was no sound except the ringing in your ears. The heat was getting to you.
“...Y/N...Y/N,” It was Zhongli’s voice that snaps you out of your stupor, he’s looking at you with concealed worry, but you also see a hint of disappointment there. “...Perhaps it’d be better if you went home first, I’ll put you up to speed on my and the good sir’s conversation later on,” It sounded as if he was trying to get rid of you, but he was merely worried about your lack of concentration today.
“...Yeah, alright,” You agree with a weak smile and bow towards the two of them, gathering your notes and balances when Zhongli stops you. “Leave those, I’ll handle them,” he says it rather curtly, but you nod your head and turn to leave, feeling a little useless. 
You took two steps and feel the world spinning around you, bright spots appear in your eyes and it was hard to see anything at all. You force yourself to move forward, not wanting to pass out in the middle of a teahouse, but your fears came true when you trip over your feet and come tumbling down the cobbled pavement of Liyue. It was just so incredibly hot, and your head was killing you with pulses of pain and discomfort. 
Zhongli rises to his feet in a hurry, striding towards you and picking you up in his arms easily, careful not to jostle you. Your eyes are shut tight, grimace on your face and it was clear that you were in pain. “Beloved, tell me what’s wrong,” there’s a sense of urgency in his voice, and people around you were staring, though you weren’t aware of it. 
You whimper in response, the heat is still beating down on you and the sun’s rays were not helping. “It’s...I can’t breathe properly, it’s...It’s too hot,” you writhe in his hold, just wanting some form of breeze but it was also a windless day today. 
Zhongli moves fast, he grabs the notes you left, excuses himself from the good sir and makes it home in a minute. He lays you down on the bed and grabs water and a newspaper from the living room. He lays the glass on the bedside tale and starts fanning you with the folded newspaper, watching your flushed, uncomfortable expression. 
He feels disappointed only at himself for not being mindful enough of your condition, sometimes he forgets how fragile humans really are. “Drink some water, please,” he coaxes you, knowing that it would help your overheated system. He’d wanted to get you out of your current clothes as well, and have you change into looser and cooler ones. 
“Y/N I’m going to help you out of your clothes and into new ones, would that be alright?” He’s been intimate with you a thousand times, so this was not something he was unfamiliar with. Only this time he was far too worried instead of feeling intimate.
When that was done, you had easily fallen asleep and he had called for a doctor, just to make sure everything was fine. Heat exhaustion was the answer that he got, and he was given a few home remedies and tips as well as medication to help regulate your temperature a little better. 
He spent the whole time silently scolding himself at the fact he missed the tell tale signs. You being distracted during the whole trade was already a sign and yet he thought you were just tired. He sighed and closed his eyes as he sat on a chair next to the bed, feeling that he had really failed in taking care of you today. 
“’Li?” Your voice snaps his eyes open and causes him to lean forward towards you. 
“Is there something you need, darling?” he asks, the rare expression of worry etched on his face. You shake your head, already feeling better now that you were indoors. 
“...Sorry we couldn’t go through with the--”
“Y/N, please don’t apologize for that,” his stern voice stops you, but his gaze softens and he takes your hand in his, cradling it as if it was porcelain. “There isn’t anything that’s more important to me than your health, do you understand?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for you to answer. “However small or slight it is, please let me know next time if you feel unwell or uncomfortable. You have to promise me this...”
You can’t help but smile at how serious he sounds, but you completely understood. “Okay, ‘Li, I promise to let you know,”
He sighs, and presses his lips onto your knuckles. “Thank you,”
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fatuismooches · 4 months
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At the beginning of your relationship with Dottore, there had been numerous times when he had tried to leave you, or rather, attempt to force you to leave him in the Akademiya. Ignoring you, snapping at you... most notably literally kicking you out of the dorm (to waking up and nearly stepping on you, as you had decided to knock out right at the door.) Merely because he still had difficulty believing he was loved by you, despite having known you for years. It took much time but, eventually, your feelings finally clicked in that genius head of his.
However, uncharacteristically enough, there was one time you debated on whether you should leave Zandik. Only one time. And he had found out. If only you had been more careful.
It happened during the later stage of your illness when your ability to do many basic tasks had been stripped from you, leaving you reliant on Zandik for many things. You felt very guilty, for making him so do much work for both himself and you, but there wasn't much you could do about it, being the way you were now. Did you tell your lover about this? No, of course not.
But today, today would just be another regular day of what you had accepted to be your new life. However, you had noticed in the morning he seemed rather irritated, but you had no chance to ask him about it since he had to leave for class. You wondered what that was all about. (You, somewhere in the depths of your mind thought. You were continuously being a burden on the knowledge-driven scholar, no wonder he'd be irritated.)
When he returned to the dorm, you could tell that the foul mood still remained. Though, you could not understand what had caused it. He was perfectly fine last night, something must have happened after you fell asleep... As you watched him, the words "welcome home" could not seem to come out as they usually did, especially when he had not even acknowledged you yet, only emptying his bag with all of his books and other tools. You swallowed nervously, wondering how you were going to go about this when he spoke.
"Where?"
"Huh?"
"Where do you plan to go?" You were understandably confused by this seemingly random question.
"Um... nowhere?" A nervous smile made its way to your face, as Zandik only gave you a blank look, before carefully unfolding a piece of paper, and reading it over once more, no emotion on his face. Which, was already quite alarming for you, because Zandik was the kind of person who always had a hint of annoyance written on his face. He then turned the paper to face you and you squinted, reading the contents.
Oh. You instantly recognized what it was. It was a form that one had to fill out if they wanted to move out of the Akademiya's dorms.
When you said you felt guilty for everything, you meant it. Meant it to the point you worried if you were still good enough for him, if you had become annoying, a bumbling nuisance that had become more of a chore rather than a partner. It worried you, and you couldn't help but think about it. What if you were right? What if he did feel all of those things? Then maybe, maybe you should relieve him of this burden. You. Then, he could continue to pursue his goals, without the added hindrance of taking care of you.
It wasn't something you were set on yet, more like something you mulled over in your head. But you had filled out the potential moving out form tentatively just in case you decided to go through with it. Ah, you probably had shoved it in your bag along with your many missing assignments, and Zandik must have found it after trying to check your homework... But now, your lover was staring holes into you, expecting an answer.
"Well, I- I didn't mean it. It was... just in case," you were just spewing words at this point because you really had no defense. After all, how do you explain to your roommate of many years that you were going to move out and disappear without telling him?
"Just in case," the scholar repeats. "Just in case..." And then Zandik laughs. At what? You're not sure, because you've only seen him laugh at other people's foolishness, or in scorn and bitterness. It's a bit unsettling, seeing him act this way, but you have no time to think about it before the paper is torn right in half twice and then abandoned in the trash bin.
"No." Well... alright then.
"Za-"
"No, no no no. How utterly absurd. Ridiculous. You are not going anywhere." The way he says it simultaneously sounds like an order to you yet also an attempt to reassure himself of your impossible departure. You wondered if he interpreted your reason for leaving as something more... drastic.
"Hey-" You stand up, hoping an embrace would calm his nerves, but he begins to pace around. Now, this wouldn't be unusual, he tends to do this while he's ranting or deeply thinking about his research but obviously, it's different this time.
"Leave? No," Zandik scoffs to himself, "the possibility is nigh on impossible. There is no need to plan for such lengths, I shall make sure it doesn't come to that." When he finished mumbling to himself, you tried to interject before his gaze snapped back to you.
"And you. You, how dare you go behind my back and do such a thing? Do you think me incompetent? Do you think me a senseless fool that I would allow you to do this?"
"..."
"I find this quite tasteless, especially after how much you parroted about 'always being by my side' or 'never leaving'. Or have you finally shown your true colors? Leaving me after-" Zandik cut himself off because the words he was going to say next shouldn't be said out loud. Leaving him after he's already obsessed with you, when he's already in love with you and would go mad without your presence. But then all he could feel was your arms around him and your face buried in his chest.
"Zandik please, I'm sorry," your voice was but a whisper. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything like that." Zandik's hands itched to hold you back, but he restrained himself, needing to hear your reasoning.
"I don't want to leave you, I really don't. I love you! So... that's why I filled that form out. Because I... am scared of burdening you too much. I know how you are. I know you want someone who is useful, w-who can be of assistance in all kinds of ways, not someone who is dead weight. So I... I don't want you to force yourself to- ow!" Your increasingly pitiful dialogue was interrupted by a flick to your forehead and the clicking of a tongue.
"Fool..." he moved his hand to rest on the top of your head. "You can be quite intelligent, but the reasons for your stupidity can be headache-inducing sometimes. Now that you've said all of that, has it clicked how idiotic it sounds?" Though your partner's words sounded harsh, his tone was noticeably softer. You could only cast your gaze downward as he sighed.
"I too wonder why you do not take your own advice. Were you not the one who said to... 'talk things out', before jumping to conclusions? So why have I not heard of this?" (The phrase feels out of place and rather disgusting on the man who normally refuses to hold a conversation on anything other than research, but he forces it out for your sake. Unfortunately, he can also hear your sing-song voice in his head as he replays the words.)
"Because... it's dumb, like you said. I shouldn't waste your time anymore..."
"I usually do not entertain dumb inquiries but... you are an exception. My assistant's questions must always be clarified." And as his lover, your troubles must always be assuaged, but that part was left unsaid, although you knew what he meant. "Yes, your usefulness was a great help, but I couldn't care less about that right now. I care about you, and if taking on extra responsibilities happens to fall under that feeling, then so be it. I don't care," Zandik said bluntly. Was it elegant? No. Was it truthful? Yes. It made your cheeks warm a bit.
"Well... thank you for the honor," you couldn't help but crack a tiny smile as Zandik only mumbled something incoherent before pushing you back to bed. Ah, you were feeling a little drained from all of that.
"Now that all that is sorted out, and that hopefully every inch of that nonsense has left you, I suggest you go to sleep quickly, unless you want to be kept awake by the sounds of my latest experiment." You only giggled at your boyfriend. He's unkind... in a kind way if that made sense. But before you could be whisked away to the land of dreams, Zandik spoke once more.
"[Name]."
"Mhm?"
"...Do not try to leave me ever again."
"...I know, Zandik."
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tongue-like-a-razor · 11 months
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Brother's Best Friend - Part 6
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who has sent in thoughts and ideas for this fic! It's so fun writing it in your vision :D Y'all are really good at this plot thing XD
Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.
CW: Intoxication, swearing, slow burn, angsty but also a fluff factory
WC: 2000+
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Masterlist
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“Can you please stop swerving?” you whimper, clapping a hand to your already throbbing head.
“It’s called turning,” Jake responds sarcastically.
You stare ahead impassively. “You’re doing it a lot.”
Jake looks over at you with an amused grin. “You are phenomenal company, have I ever told you that?”
You eye him with contempt. “Shut up, Seresin.”
He laughs. “I’m not joking.”
“Whatever,” you say. “Make fun of me all you want. I’m not going to remember anything tomorrow, anyway.”
Jake considers your words for a moment. “You think?”
You close your eyes. “Who knows if I’ll even wake up.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
Suddenly, you jolt upright in your seat. “Pull over!” you command. “Pull over right now.”
Jake hits the breaks and veers to the side of the road and you’re pushing your door open before he even comes to a complete stop. You detangle yourself with some difficulty from the seatbelt and stumble out of the car. You’re barely out of the vehicle when you start puking all over somebody’s neatly trimmed lawn.
Jake jogs around the car to get to you, but you stretch your arm out to keep him back. He ignores your silent request and comes up behind you, grasping your shoulders tightly. “Go away, Jake,” you say in a shaky voice, feeling the onset of yet another attack.
Jake rubs your back gently while you liberate the remainder of your stomach contents. “Shh,” he says quietly. “Just let it out.”
When you’re finished, you pull away from Jake, teetering as you go. You bury your face in your hands, leaning into the side of his car with your hip, completely mortified.
“Hey,” Jake says. “You alright?”
You wipe at your face, nodding, and look up at him despite the sting behind your eyes.
“Woah, hey,” he says, brushing the hair out of your face as tears start rolling down your cheeks. “What’s the matter?” Then, more aggressively, he adds, “Did he do something to you?”
You shake your head, sniffling. “I didn’t want to throw up,” you say with a small sob halfway through the statement.
“Aw, c’mon,” Jake says, wrapping his arm around your neck and pulling you into his chest. “We’ve all been there,” he continues, rubbing your arm with his hand.
But you’re not so sure that Jake can truly sympathize. After all, not only did you ralph, but you also happened to do it in front of the one person whom you’ve loved for as long as you can remember.
Jake helps you stumble your way to the front door and then holds you up as you try to rip apart the straps of your heels to get them off.
“Need some help with those?” he asks, seemingly amused.
You huff in frustration as a wave of perspiration hits you without warning. “I. Can. Do. It!” you pant, clawing at the clasp.
Jake winces as he watches you struggle. Finally, he bends down and hooks his arm behind your knees. Before you know it, he’s lifted you off the ground. “We don’t have all night,” he says, carrying you, bridal-style, down the corridor. He starts for the second floor with you still in his arms as though hauling you up the stairs takes no effort at all.
“I can’t sleep in them,” you mumble, resting your weary head on his shoulder.
“Can’t you?” he responds, kicking lightly at the partially open door to your bedroom and walking inside. You brace yourself for an impact, thinking that Jake is going to toss you down onto the mattress but, instead, he squats to set you down gingerly onto the bed. He glances over your face and removes some of the hair that’s stuck to your cheek with either sweat or tears or – well, you prefer not to consider an alternative. “How’re you feeling?” he asks quietly.
You swallow uncomfortably, letting your eyes meet his despite the whirlwind in your chest that’s perpetuating the already pronounced nausea. “Uh,” you utter. “Dizzy.”
Jake nods with a sympathetic smile. He reaches for your foot and starts undoing the clasp.
“Yeah, good luck,” you say flatly and fall backward onto the bed with a groan.
Jake chuckles and, within seconds, removes your shoe.
You sit back up in a daze. “How…?”
Jake gives you a humorous look. “You’re going to laugh so hard about this tomorrow.”
Once he takes off your second shoe, you lift yourself off the bed and start to unzip your shorts. Jake promptly turns away. “Sorry,” you say, shimmying out of your shorts as Jake starts inspecting the frame of your bedroom door intently. He runs his fingers along the trim as though nothing has ever fascinated him more.
Normally, you’d never even consider changing in Jake’s presence but, in your inebriated state, you’re feeling far more brazen.
Once your shorts are off, you kick them aside unceremoniously. Jake’s head moves slightly as his eyes follow the trajectory of the flying shorts and you can tell that he’s very purposefully trying not to look in your direction. You start to pull off your top, certain that he wouldn’t turn around even if you yelled ‘Fire’. You toss your shirt into a pile with your shorts and grab a t-shirt out of the hamper, pulling it over your head and crawling back onto your bed. “I’m decent,” you say, dropping into your comforter.
Jake turns back cautiously, as if he doesn't fully trust you and, as he makes his way toward the bed, he’s distracted by your attire. “You’re gonna be sleeping in that?” he asks, somewhat surprised.
You glance down and notice that you’re back in his Pantera shirt. You shrug. “I guess.” You shuffle around the bed, swaying as you try to find the edge of the blanket so that you could crawl underneath. Eventually, you end up collapsing on the bed in frustration. “Everything is spinning!” you moan.
Jake reaches for the comforter. “You’re sitting on it, genius.”
“Oh,” you mutter as he helps you unravel the sheets and climb inside. “Thanks.”
Jake covers you up and says, “Turn onto your side.”
You sigh, having finally gotten into a semi-comfortable position on your back. “Why?” you whine.
“Just do it,” he says firmly, putting his hand behind your shoulder to turn you.
You whimper but follow his instructions. “Are you leaving to get Bradley now?” you ask.
“No,” he responds, lowering himself onto the floor by your bed and leaning his back against it.
You lift your head weakly. “Why not?”
“I told him to catch an Uber,” he says. “Besides, he’s probably not gonna be home for a while.”
You make an “mm” sound and lift yourself further off the pillow. “Jake,” you say curiously. “What are you doing?”
He glances over his shoulder at you. “What do you mean?”
“Why are you sitting on the floor?”
Jake sighs. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re very drunk.”
“So?”
“Just stop talking and go to sleep,” Jake responds grumpily.
You furrow your eyebrows. “Are you going to stay up all night?”
“I’ll sleep if I get tired.”
You narrow your eyes. “On the floor?”
Jake breathes out in exasperation. “Where else?” he says, turning his head to look at you again.
You glance down at the unused half of your bed pointedly. “I don’t think you have to stay,” you murmur, even though what you want to say is ‘There’s enough bed here for the two of us’.
“You want me to leave?” Jake asks and you’re forced to look him in the eye once more.
Slowly, you shake your head. “I don’t want you to have to sleep on the floor,” you respond.
“It’s not a big deal.”
You gulp. “You can come on the bed if you want,” you say hesitantly, dropping your gaze.
Jake lets out an uneasy chuckle. “Imagine?” he says.
You release a quick laugh because it’s all you’ve been imagining for years. “Jake?” you say quietly.
“Mm?” He turns to look back at you after repositioning himself on the floor.
“Thanks,” you say.
Jake watches you earnestly. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do.” You nod with your head back on the pillow. “You saved me.”
Jake scoffs. “Hardly.”
You reach forward and rest a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.”
Jake places his own hand over yours. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”
You nod as your eyelids become increasingly heavy. “Will you give me advice on my sex life?” you ask sleepily.
“Anything but that,” Jake responds.
A smile spreads on your face and you shift your body closer to the edge of the bed so that you can more easily keep your hand on his shoulder. “We did the thing,” you mutter almost incoherently.
Jake’s posture stiffens as he lifts his back away from the bedframe.
“It was alright,” you continue without opening your eyes.
“Alright?” you hear a hint of distaste in his tone.
“Wasn’t as good as he said it would be.”
“Then he did it wrong,” Jake responds flatly.
You open your eyes minutely. “You don’t even know what it is.”
Jake is watching you soberly. “I don’t have to know.”
You shrug. “Guess I won’t know until I do it with someone else. To compare, you know?”
Jake cringes. “What will it take for you to shut up and go to sleep?”
You chuckle. “Why does it bother you so much?”
“It’s gross,” he responds curtly. “Anyway, forget about that loser. You’re obviously never gonna see him again.”
“Why not?”
“What do you mean, ‘why not’?”
“I’ll probably see him tomorrow.”
Jake stands up briskly. “Are you kidding me? He abandoned you at some random house party!”
“So? He was just pissed about losing to a girl. He’ll get over it.”
Jake puts his hands on his hips. “You shouldn’t.”
You gaze up at him sleepily. “It’s fine, Jake. He’ll call and apologize.”
Jake shakes his head. “Don’t you dare consider seeing him again.”
You grimace. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“I can if you’re gonna be stupid about it.”
You grit your teeth. “Are you calling me stupid?”
“If you're gonna be seeing him again, then yeah. Very much.”
You seethe. “Well, maybe you're rubbing off on me.”
Jake stares at you coolly. “Very mature.”
You roll your eyes and turn away to face the wall. “Go to hell.”
Jake spins on his heel and heads for the door. “Whatever,” he grumbles, flicking off the light and slamming the door behind him.
“What the fuck is your problem?” you call after him, scrambling out of the bed and stumbling haphazardly to the door. “Why are you such a dick?” you yell, opening your door.
Jake gives you a harsh look from the top of the staircase. “You’re going to continue dating that shithead after all these red flags?” he shouts back. “Your brother told you to be careful!” he continues, pointing an accusing finger at you.
“Maybe I am being careful!”
Jake scowls, shaking his head. “It doesn’t sound like it.”
“Stop judging me!”
“I’M NOT JUDGING YOU!” he roars. “I’M WORRIED ABOUT YOU!”
“WHY?”
Jake exhales steadily as he tries to regain his composure. Then, he begins descending the stairs.
“Where are you going?” you say.
“Home,” he replies brusquely.
“I thought you were staying,” you say, making your way toward the stairs as he disappears down the corridor.
“You’re fine,” you hear him say.
You start down after him but, when the curve of the stairs starts to coil right before your eyes, you gasp and cling onto the banister for dear life.
Instantly, you hear Jake running back toward the staircase from the front hall. He arrives at the foot of the stairs and breathes a sigh of relief seeing that you’re still upright. “Why are you following me?” he asks aggressively, climbing back up the stairs, taking three at a time.
“I don’t want you to go,” you say desperately, sinking down onto the step you’re standing on.
When Jake reaches you, he kneels down, placing a hand on your leg and another on your arm as though he’s afraid you might lose your balance again, even as you’re sitting. He lets out a wavering breath. “Are you insane? You could’ve broken your neck,” he says.
You stare at the space between the two of you moodily. “I guess it’s just one poor decision after another,” you mutter irritably.
Jake sighs, brushing his hand over your bare thigh. “Tell me about it,” he says. You shoot him a dirty look and he gives you a tight smile. “I’ll stay, alright?”
You nod.
“Let’s get you back to bed,” he says, helping you to your feet. He leads you back to the bedroom in silence.
You aren’t sure exactly if the two of you have made up or if he’s just reluctant to leave because you’re being reckless. But, regardless, you’re relieved that he still cares enough about you to stay despite being angry.
Once you’re under the covers, he sits down on the edge your bed. “I don’t get it,” he says. “Why would you keep seeing this dumbass? You could do so much better.”
You sigh tiredly. The truth is, you weren’t entirely sure whether you’d ever talk to your boyfriend again. But Jake’s pushiness hit a nerve and you made your mind up out of spite. Now, you’re not really sure how to respond. “It’s just nice to be liked,” you finally say.
Jake lifts his eyebrows. “I like you.”
You shake your head. “Not like that, Jake. You know what I mean. It’s nice to feel…” you bite your lip, slightly more reserved now that you’re starting to sober up.
“What?”
You shrug. “Wanted,” you finish sheepishly. When Jake furrows his eyebrows like an idiot, you decide to elaborate. “You know – physically. To feel like someone needs to have me. An all-encompassing, mind-altering desire that can’t be helped.” You stop talking as Jake’s blinking eyes go round in his shock and decide to omit the fact that you basically just want someone to hunger for you the way you do for him.
Jake grimaces. “That jackass makes you feel this way?” he asks.
You purse your lips, realizing that you’ve never actually noticed. “Not really,” you admit. “I mean, he wants sex, I know that much.”
Jake cringes, bringing a hand to his forehead and rubbing at his brow. “I swear to god, if you mention your sex life one more time, I’m going to throw myself out your window.”
You snort. “You’re so dramatic,” you respond, repeating his own words from earlier in the night.
Jake turns around and lowers his back onto your bed to lie down next to you over the covers. He puts his hands over his chest, looking up at the ceiling. “I know it’s not my place,” he says, and then turns his head to look at you, his face barely six inches from yours. “But I am begging you, please dump his sorry ass.”
You sigh, contemplating his request.
“Trust me, sweet cheeks,” he adds. “You've got options.”
Read Part 7
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boldlyvoid · 1 year
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Sweet Nothing
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Spencer Reid x Fem Reader
Summary: Penelope made a friend on the internet over covid who just so happens to live in the same town Dr. Reid just got a new job... and playing Cupid is her favourite thing in the world
Warnings: strangers to lovers, meet cute, 40-year-old virgin Spencer, Virgin reader (late 20's/early 30's), picnics, food mention, lots of Taylor Swift references, first times, Spencer is on anti-depressants, oral sex fem receiving, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sweet sex, lots of communication
Word Count: 12.6
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Making friends on the internet was never easy… it always came with its own set of unique difficulties. People lie, anyone could be secretly crazy and when actions don’t really have consequences on the web, they can get crazier. 
That being said, Y/N has recently made a wonderful friend in a woman named Penelope. 
Penelope’s Tumblr page was pretty normal, very pink and vibrant and happy, but normal nonetheless. She’s in her early 40s, an internet veteran, an ex-employee at the FBI and known for creating a brand new, very safe, social media platform for young people. She was very easy to trust, very forward and easy to open up to as well, which made the two of them bond instantly. 
And despite the age difference and the long distance, Y/N would consider Penelope to be her best friend. 
She knew everything about her from her favourite colour to her hope and dreams and favourite singer… and also the fact she was a virgin well into her adult life and dying to get out there. They’ve spent most of their friendship discussing their equally awful dating lives, would-be lovers and almost hookups. Both women have tried time and time again to find love, however, nothing ever seemed to work out… until the day Penelope got an idea. 
“I have a friend…” Penelope leads, something sinister in her eyes. “And he’s single and pretty cute, too…” 
“Do you have a crush?” Y/N lights up thinking this is a happy moment for Penelope. “Oh my god, Penny tell me all about him!!”
“Well, no, actually… I want to set you up with him,” she explains further, in a much softer tone. “He’s so soft and sweet and a few years younger than me… and still a virgin.” 
Her eyes grow impossibly wide and her jaw drops momentarily, “you’re kidding?”
“Nope.” 
“Wow,” she takes a moment to soak it all in. She sits back in her chair and lets her shoulders drop as she thinks about it. And for once, Penelope is quiet too. “How much older than me is he?” 
“He’s 41… which I know it’s a lot older than you but he’s what you’re looking for and you’d be so perfect for him. He’s so wonderful and he’s waited for so long to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and I know you’d love everything about him if I told you everything but I want you to meet him and find out for yourself… sorry, that was a lot.” 
“No, no, that’s okay,” she actually loved when Penelope went on little rants like that. “I just don’t really have the funds to fly to Virginia right now—
“That’s another reason why he’s perfect for you, he’s moving to Reno next week!!!” Penelope can’t help but shake her hands with excitement while her voice raises at least a pitch if not 3. 
“Is this the same friend who’s already from Nevada?” Her eyes light right up like a cat staring at a laser… she’s seen photos on Penelope’s personal Facebook, everything from selfies in new glasses to the parties with friends  and throwbacks from working at the FBI… “doctor what’s-his-name?” 
“Spencer, yeah oh my god? I can’t believe you remember him?” Penelope asks and she just shrugs, “See, this is why you’re perfect for Spencer, he talks a lot like I do, only about much smarter things but you’d be able to keep up.” 
“I’d love that, actually,” she swoons, feeling slightly embarrassed about how the possibility of having a boyfriend makes her so giddy. “I’d love to listen to someone talk about what they love and just sit there and look at them…” 
“Perfect, I tell you! Perfect!!” Penelope exaggerates, “he’s moving in a few days but all his things are already there. The department paid for his relocation and everything, I’m so surprised he actually decided to go this time, he’s been thinking about it forever.” 
“Ask him if he wants some help unpacking when he does get here and I’d love to give him a hand,” she agrees fully, taking a leap of faith and seeing where this could go without the fear of the unknown weighing her down. 
She shows up at Spencer's apartment 2 days after he arrives in Reno, a bottle of Welcome to the Neighbourhood sparkling cider and an assortment of muffins in her arms, thinking it would be quick and easy for him to take the muffins to work over the next few days, unlike a flower arrangement he didn’t need taking up space in his downsized apartment. 
She takes a deep breath before she knocks, her knuckles are barely off the door when he opens it. She barely has a moment to prepare before she’s smacked with the realization that this man is very handsome and incredibly smart… and so, so intimidating. 
“Hi,” he smiles at her. “Is that— you didn’t need to bring anything?” 
She looks down at the basket she’s holding and then back up to see those beautiful brown eyes, “I know… sorry, um, Hi, welcome to the neighbourhood,” she hands him the basket with the best smile she can muster, slightly embarrassed to be so flustered by the mere sight of him. 
“Thank you, come in,” he steps out of the doorway so she could walk in, he steps away from the door completely and sets the basket on a moving box. “Sorry, it’s a mess, the movers just put the boxes wherever they wanted, so I’ve been reorganizing where they were supposed to go,” Spencer explains, gesturing to the room around them. 
“It’s okay, that’s why I’m here,” she’s cheery as she shuts the door and starts to take her coat off. “Can I just leave this over here?” 
“Yeah, actually—“ he reaches for the closet door, “I found the box with hangers first so you could hang your coat when you got here.” 
“She said you were a genius,” Y/N teases, holding her coat up so he could slip the hanger inside and hang it on the bar. She sets her purse down inside the closet too, just for safekeeping. 
“I hope she hasn’t talked me up too much,” he’s honest with his fears. “I’m afraid I’m actually quite average, maybe tilted towards the strange side…” 
She gives him another smile, but ultimately shakes her head, “Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me anything really personal. I only really know about you from stories she’s told me about her old job, but nothing in detail… I was just starting to get to know her when you were hospitalized before the pandemic and she was by your side a bunch so she wasn’t online and I was actually worried something happened to her 'cause she’s never that quiet.” 
“Oh, yeah, that was awful,” he agrees, pressing his lips together awkwardly while he thinks about it. But then he takes a deep breath and his shoulders drop. “So I was thinking we could start in the kitchen? I’ve found most of the boxes.” 
“Yeah, lead the way,” she says, following him through the front room to the living room that was connected to the kitchen by means of an archway. “Oh wow,” she muses aloud, “this is going to be nice to decorate…” 
“You think?” He looks a mix of worried and confused, “I have no idea what to do with the place.” 
“I’m sure once we start taking out all your things we’ll figure something out,” she knows she can make a room out of anything, it's how she decorates her classroom each September. Just with sheer will and pure hope.
“I had to downsize a lot to come here, I donated most of my books so I wouldn’t cost the department a fortune moving them out, but I still have a lot,” he shares, both proud and a little embarrassed that 50% of his boxes are for books. “I don’t have many personal things or decorations… I honestly wasn’t in my last place enough to make it feel homey.” 
“You’ll be here often, though, right?” She asks, selfishly, she can already see them becoming somewhat good friends and she wants to be able to see him regularly. 
He nods, “Yeah, I’m going to be working with the sex crimes unit, 9 to 5 every day unless there’s a big case,” he explains. “Like human trafficking or a pedophile ring or something, but I doubt I’ll see an overwhelming number of those right now, it’ll be nice to downsize to just a city instead of dealing with the entirety of The United States.”
“I have 4 different groups of teenagers that I teach, which is like 120 kids alone, I can’t imagine being principal and having a thousand kids to watch out for,” she can relate it back. “I’m sure this will be less stressful for you… still awful sometimes but—
“But I’m good with stress,” he assures her. “Especially this kind of stress. You know, when I first started at the BAU I had a co worker who transferred over from sex crimes in New York, she actually had a great time cause she got to kick some creeps ass every now and then.” 
“Oh that’s cool, I guess,” she tries not to be jealous, knowing he’s probably had lots of meaningful relationships with women throughout his life, but that’s not going to stop him from getting to know her. 
She grabs a box that says mugs and lifts it to the edge of the counter island instead of dwelling on these bubbling feelings for who is essentially, a stranger. “Which cupboard did you want the mugs to go in?” 
“Uh,” he gets nervous then. “I have about 3 boxes of mugs… so wherever they fit?” 
“Sounds good,” she can’t help but smile, it was cute. “Do you like to collect them or something?” 
“Kinda,” he reaches into his pocket and takes out an exacto-knife, handing it to her so she can open the cardboard box. She pushes the knife out of its plastic sheath and starts to cut along the tape seam. 
The first mug she pulls out is a pink octopus, “oh, this is so cute?” 
“That’s Mildred,” he can’t help but smile, “I got that from Penelope on her last day at work.” 
“Oh,” she holds it to her chest in a sweet hug. “I can’t wait for her to come and visit, I just know she gives amazing hugs.” 
“Actually, she hugged me before I left and said that I was supposed to pass it along to you at some point…” he looks at her softly, slightly terrified. “Which is strange 'cause she knows I don’t like touching and we’ve never met before but for some reason, she knew I’d still want to hug you upon meeting you…” 
She can’t help but laugh, placing the mug down on the counter, “is that an invitation?” 
He nods, opening his arms and allowing her to step into his space. She wraps her arms around his middle and holds him close, feeling his large hands on her shoulder and upper back, his thumb lightly caressing the fabric of her shirt. 
She stays there in the hug for a moment and then pulls back, “I’ll be sure to tell her that you passed that along.” 
“Good,” he’s smiling like an idiot, bright red and flustered, falling head over heels for her already. 
At least, the little voice in her head thinks so. Making her smile back at him with the same giddy hopefulness that she’s longed for most of her life. 
He feels like the most awkward person in the whole fucking world. Hiding away in the living room to unbox something alone and give himself a moment of anxiety without having to play it cool in front of her any longer. 
She’s pretty, she’s nice, she smells like honey and happiness and new beginnings… Penelope raved about her for days when she heard he was moving to Reno and now he can see why. 
Y/N is amazing… it’s almost too good to be true.
She’s in his kitchen humming while she unpacks box after box of his dishes, moving around his new space like she was always meant to be here too. Like she’s a ghost or an extra piece of the pre-furnished listing. Like it was hers first. 
He can’t quite place what song it is that she’s humming, but it’s nice. He wanders over to the archway and leans against it, watching her in admiration as she slides some more mugs to the back of a shelf. He knows he wants to ask her out for real. Not just as friends, not just for help or convenience but because his aura is drawn to hers and the colour they could make together has never been made before. 
When she turns around to grab another mug she’s startled by his presence in the doorway, “gosh,” she gasps and places her hand on her chest to get over the initial shock. “What the heck, Spencer?” 
“Sorry, it’s just…” he licks his lips and thinks it over before saying it, “It’s so nice to have you here… it feels right.” 
“Oh,” she softens, he can see a weight lift off her shoulders and her eyes glimmer under the lights. “Thank you, thats the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?” 
“Would you want to go on a real date, tomorrow?” He can’t help but ask. “I know Penelope was hoping for us to date and I hate that she’s always right but, I would really like to go on a date with you.” 
“Yeah, absolutely,” she makes her way around the counter and over to be closer to him. “I’d love that, what do you want to do?” 
“Um,” he really didn’t think that far ahead… “can I surprise you?” 
“Sure,” she gives him the sweetest, most hopeful smile that makes his heart swell. 
“Is there anything you don’t like? Or are allergic to? Anything I should avoid?” He can’t help but ask. The last thing he wants is to surprise her with something that makes her distance herself from him. It’s happened too many times before. 
She shakes her head, “not that I can think of?” 
“Okay,” he smiles at her, stepping into her space more. “I found my Alexa that Penelope got me years ago, did you want me to put on that song you were humming?” 
She looks like a dear in the headlights, she clearly forgot he could hear her when she was humming. “Oh, um… no? I don't think you’d like the song.” 
“It sounded nice when you were humming?” 
“It’s embarrassing…” 
“What is it?” 
She sighs and gives in, “Taylor Swift has this song that I listen to when I dream about the life I want and it’s been stuck in my head all day cause I’m in your kitchen… and the lyric is outside they’re pushing and shoving but you’re in the kitchen humming, all that you ever wanted from me was Sweet Nothing…” 
“That’s not embarrassing,” his heart swells. “Penelope is a matchmaker, has she ever told you about all the couples she created at the FBI? She’s responsible for 5 marriages and by proxy about 10 babies.” 
“Wow,” Y/N’s a bit taken aback by that. “So you’re saying she’s like Cupid?” 
He nods, “Or she’s able to see fate's design a lot better than us.” 
“One hug? That’s all it took?” She teases him. 
“A few mugs?” He teases right back. 
“Hey, you can tell a lot about a person by what they hoard,” she bites back, trying not to smile too hard. 
He just shakes his head and backs up, headed back to the living room with her in tow. “Hey Alexa, what’s the Taylor Swift song that says you’re in the kitchen humming.” 
“That would be Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Midnights By Taylor Swift, released October—“ the British man's voice comes booming from the small speaker only to be cut off.
“Hey Alexa play Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift,” he orders with a smirk plastered to his face. 
“Okay, here’s Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Amazon Music.” 
Within the first few notes, he knows this is going to be their song. He extends his hand to her, silently asking her to dance even though he doesn’t really know how… and by design or some exquisite happenstance, she takes it. 
With one hand in hers, his other hand lands on her hip while her extra hand is placed ever so gently on his shoulder. Chest to chest, eye to eye, they smile and sway along to the flow of the tune. Her hand squeezes around his own slightly tighter, the tune matches exactly how she was humming in his own kitchen and then he hears the lyric she mentioned. 
They said the end is coming,
Everyone's up to something,
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.
Outside, they're push and shoving,
You're in the kitchen humming,
All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.
He spins her around making her laugh as she crashes back into his chest and holds him tighter. She wraps her arm around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. The music is loud, but his thoughts are louder. He wants everything this song mentions but with her. Only her. And it’s been only an hour and a bit that he’s known her. He doesn’t even really know her but he craves to. 
“Do you write poems?” He asks after the song mentions them. 
She shakes her head, “no, but I know you read a lot of them… do you write them too?” 
He nods, “Sometimes… maybe I’ll make you one.” 
“I’ll probably cry,” she admits. 
Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors
And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other
And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"
To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it
She is soft-hearted. She’s sweet and kind and wonderful, too. She tilts her head to the side to rest against his own. Now cheek to cheek, he lets out a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. She hums along to the song, just soft enough for him to hear, not quite on key, but it’s endearing. 
They’re quiet for the rest of the song and keep swaying, knowing it’s going to end soon and they’re going to have to pull away. They don’t want to… luckily the song is on a loop. It starts right back up and so they don’t pull away. 
His place is still a mess when he gets ready to leave the next morning. After their dance, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on unpacking and he knew he’d be too tempted to hold her all night long… so she went home. He helped her into her coat, he hugged her goodbye and she left, taking a piece of his heart with her. 
He’s not as used to Reno as he was with DC, but one look at the map and he was able to find the grocery store quite easily. He walks there because he opted not to bring his shitty car with him. He sold it with the promise of looking for a new one here in Nevada, but it was actually a lot nicer to walk in a sunny place like this. And on days when it’s not as nice, taxis exist for a reason. He really didn’t need a car, anymore. 
He didn’t realize how much he missed Nevada until now. 
He spent a lot of last night thinking about what he wanted to do for their date and came up with the splendid idea of a picnic. The first thing he did was call Penelope, it wasn’t too late for her back in DC, so he didn’t feel too bad, but he had to ask her some questions. He wanted everything to be perfect. She talked his ear off and then gave him an extensive list of the things she knows Y/N likes from past conversations, it turns out they’ve spent a bit of time talking about snack foods and it was finally coming in handy. 
He comes back to his newly unpacked kitchen with bags of groceries, he prepares sandwiches on croissants and cuts up cheese and puts them on toothpicks with fancy slivers of meat… and he bought some new Tupperware so the meats and cheese can be in one and the fruit he bought can be in another. He bought her favourite drinks and some cute disposable cups to put them in because he didn’t have anything other than coffee mugs, which he was sure she wouldn’t mind, but he did. 
He wanted this to be perfect for her. 
All while he was packing their picnic basket, he listened to Taylor’s music, thanks to Penelope he had a playlist of her favourites to get himself caught up on them and ended up liking most of them himself. Especially one called Maroon. The lyrics are so powerfully written and wondrously sung, it’s as if a heart-stopping novel was put to music and all told within 3 minutes and 38 seconds. Taylor Swift is a genius, that much her lover got right in sweet nothing. What a mind, indeed. 
Just a little past her apartment, there is a little park with a lovely field of flowers beside it. It’s a perfect spot for a picnic, so once he’s finished packing their picnic, he sets off on a walk to her apartment, thinking a walk to the park together would only add to the ambiance of the day. 
He makes it to her place a little before 11, like he told her he would, and spends a few seconds in the hallway to catch his breath and fix his hair before he knocks. And when he does knock, it’s 3 times and he hits the wood pretty hard with his knuckles. Inside, it’s pretty quiet and then he hears her call out, “Just a sec!!”
He waits patiently for a minute or two and then she wipes the door open while putting in an earring, “Sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was.”
She’s breathtaking. She’s all dolled up and it’s all for him. He can’t believe it. 
“That’s okay,” he manages to breathe out, leaving his mouth hung open as he stares. 
She just smirks and reaches out for him, touching his chin and redirecting his jaw closed. “You don’t want to catch flies…” 
He blushes, uncontrollably, and bows his head, bashful as ever. “Sorry, you just look beautiful… I’m not used to someone getting all dolled up for me.” 
She lets out a huff of breath through her nose, settling all her nerves, her shoulders drop and she stares at him like he’s the only man in the whole world. “You’re so sweet, I almost can’t believe you’re real.” 
“That feeling is mutual,” he assures her. 
She finally looks down at his hands to see him holding a picnic basket. “Oh my god, are we going to have a picnic?” She lights right up. 
He nods, “is that okay?” 
“Okay? It’s perfect, Spencer!” She’s so excited and it’s real. She’s not playing it up or anything. She’s genuinely over the moon. “Let me just put on my shoes and grab my purse, you can wait in here.” 
“Okay,” he steps inside and closes the door behind himself as she runs off into he bedroom.  
It’s a small apartment. Her bedroom and bathroom are separate rooms, but the kitchen, living room and the washer and dryer are all exposed. She has it set up really nicely, it’s warm and inviting and happy and he could see himself making a home on her couch in the upcoming weeks of getting to know her. He couldn’t wait to learn about her favourite shows and movies and books. He wanted to hear all about her family and friends and co-workers, even her favourite students and the ones who irked her. He wanted to hear about it all. He wants to know her favourite colour and how she likes her pizza and her pasta and what her favourite baked good is. There’s an endless amount of personal things that he can learn, and he wants to know it all. He wants to love it all, too. 
When she returns, she has her shoes on, her purse over her shoulder and a blanket draped over her forearm. “I don’t want to sit on the grass, and I didn’t think you fit a blanket in there…” 
“Oh, shoot,” he looks down at the basket and realizes that was the one thing he forgot. “Yeah, we’re going to need that.” 
“Thought so,” she smirks. She walks back over to the door and grabs her keys, “anything else you need?” 
“Just you,” he replies without thinking it over. 
“Stop being so sweet,” she nudges him, staring up at him like he hung the stars, himself. 
“Or else?” He teases. It’s remarkable how easy it is with her. It just flows out of him like the script was already written between them. 
She steps even closer into his space, “you get a kiss for every compliment,” she says, standing on her tip-toes, she presses her lips to his cheek for 1, 2, 3 seconds of pure bliss. 
She drops back down to her normal height, a smirk plastered to her face, proud of the lipstick stain that’s almost as red as his blushing cheek. She reaches up to wipe it off but he pulls back, “don’t…” he’s adamant. “I want everyone to know you’re mine if you’re going out looking this beautiful beside me.” 
“Okay then.” 
Like a real man, Spencer insists on standing closer to the road as they walk along the sidewalk. A few moments into their walk, he transitions the basket to his right side so that his hand that’s closest to her is free and she notices it right away. She has draped the blanket over her left arm, leaving her right hand free… all but begging him to take it. But he’s shy and quiet and he doesn’t know how to just do it. 
So she does. 
She takes his hand in hers and interlocks their fingers, smiling up at him as they keep going forward, “have you ever been to this park?” 
He shakes his head, “No… is it nice? The reviews online said it’s clean and there isn’t a lot of illegal activity there.” 
She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, it’s a nice park. Sometimes I hit up the bookstore down here and then I go read in the park. It’s nice in the summer when I have a week off between my regular job at the school and my summer job.” 
“Summer job?” 
She nods, “Mhm, you know, 'cause I only work at the high school when school is in session and I don’t make enough to take two whole months off so each summer I take a new job. Like last summer I worked at a daycare but the summer before that I was at a ladies' clothing store a few streets over.” 
“What are you going to do this summer?” He asks, intrigued. 
“I’m not sure yet… I’m still friends with some of the girls at the daycare so I might go back, but honestly, I’m also thinking of putting in my application for summer school and I might tutor some of the kids that need help graduating,” she explains. “Cause I know how hard it is to try your best and still just not get it. They shouldn’t be punished for having a hard time.” 
“You sound like a wonderful teacher, I’m sure they’d really like to have you in the summer, too,” Spencer compliments. “I was always closest to the kids that didn’t do very well in school. It’s not that I pitted them or felt like I could improve them, I just liked who they were as people, more.”
“They’re lovely kids, they just get pushed to the side because they either learn differently or they can’t do the work at home for whatever reason. And they shouldn’t be punished for that, it’s not their fault that most kids nowadays have to work to help their families or become a second parent to help their younger siblings. They barely have the time to take care of themselves let alone do 5 hours of homework a night,” she rants, “I genuinely hate how the school system is currently.” 
“My nephew is in high school currently and he isn’t having the best time,” Spencer shares. “He calls me for help on his math homework sometimes and it always floors me that even if he got to the right answer, if he didn’t follow the exact formula that the teacher uses then he gets a 0. There are many different ways to solve an equation, and as long as he shows his work it should count.” 
“Exactly!” She raises her voice a little and startles a lady passing them. “It’s frustrating to watch them struggle with shit they’ll never use again unless they’re going into a math-dominated field. It’s not fair.” 
“More kids need a teacher like you,” Spencer says, giving her hand a little squeeze. 
“Why, thank you,” she gleams. “If we weren’t in the middle of the walkway I’d kiss you again…”
“The books store is just up here, you can kiss me in the aisles… if you really want to?” he kids, but not really. She can tell he wants another kiss from her. 
So she drags him into the bookstore, they tell the worker that they’re just looking and perusing the store, calling out the titles they know and rating the backs of the ones that seem interesting until they’re in the back aisle. She turns to him with a smirk, “Are you gonna make me stand on my tip-toes every time, bean sprout?” 
He smirks and places the picnic basket down on the floor so his hands are free, “I could just kiss you, instead, you know?” 
“You wouldn’t be so bold?” She tempts, secretly hoping he will. 
He tentatively reaches out, placing his beautifully soft hand on her cheek and caressing her skin with his thumb before he starts to lean in. She closes her eyes in anticipation, just mere seconds before their lips touch and like the big bang, universes were created in the pitch-black darkness behind her eyelids. Colours she’s never seen before, feelings she’s only read on pages that surround them, and a warmth in her chest that seems so foreign… yet so right. 
He goes to pull away and she leans back in, dropping the blanket in the process to kiss him again and again until his tongue slips past her lips and it's more than just a kiss. It’s the start of something beautiful. Something more than Penelope ever thought possible when her two friends ended up in the same town at the same time. 
They’re brought out of the moment by the sound of a woman clearing her throat, “You actually have to buy something you can’t just make out back here.” 
“Sorry, sorry.”
“I’m so sorry!”
The two of them rush out with equally guilty mugs. She grabs the first book she see’s, “We’ll take this.” 
“I’ll meet you at the register,” the keeper replies rather snidely and over it as she walks away. 
Looking down at the book, it’s a poetry book by an author she’s never heard of before. “You know this one?” 
Spencer shakes his head, “surprisingly, no.” 
She picks up the blanket again, he grabs the basket and the two of them slowly make their way towards the cash. “Sorry, again,” Y/N says, pressing her lips together awkwardly. “I don’t know where that came from, we really just wanted a book for our picnic.” 
“I’ve been in love before, I get it,” she waves it off with a growing smile. “This is a good choice… it’s only 6 dollars as well.”
“I’ve got it,” Spencer steps forward, taking his wallet out of his pocket and handing the woman two 5 dollar bills. “Do you take tips or donations?”
“Always, it keeps the lights on,” she’s happy to take the extra money, exchanging one of the 5’s for 4 1’s and placing them in a jar behind the desk. “Thank you, I hope to see you back here sometime.” 
“Definitely, I’d love to have a real look next time,” Spencer teases as Y/N takes the book. He places his hand on her back, “thank you.” 
“Have a good rest of your day,” she adds for good measure, following Spencer towards the door. 
“You too! And enjoy your picnic!” The lady calls back just before they leave. 
“God,” Y/N scolds herself, “I can’t believe that happened.” 
“Spencer just laughs, “It’s not that embarrassing… believe me, I’ve walked in on much worse.” 
“I can imagine, I mean, Penelope told me about some of your cases,” she says with the roll of her eyes. “I really don’t know how you did it for so long.” 
“Honestly, me either,” he agrees with her there. “How much do you know about me? Because she never told me much about you and I’m worried we’re not on even playing grounds…” 
“Oh, not much!” She tries to sound as believable as possible. “She basically told me you’re a genius, she loves you like a little brother and some little anecdotes like you were shot in the knee once and were on crutches for months and you wear a lot of purple which I’ve also seen in the Facebook photos she has of you… but nothing super personal.”
“Okay, that’s good then… cause she’s seen me at my worst,” Spencer admits as they make their way toward the park entrance
“She was basically big brother to you guys,” Y/N teases. 
Spencer manages to laugh, “Yeah, she was.”
The gates to the park are open, there are children running about cheering with one another while their parents sit on the benches and talk, barely watching on. They pass everyone and head right back to the grassy area behind the playground, past the soccer fields and take cover under a baby Willow tree that still has lots of growing left to do, however, she’s still big enough to cast a good amount of shade on them. 
She lays out the blanket perfectly and takes a seat while Spencer gets down on his knees, placing the picnic basket in front of himself. All while they’re still talking about Penelope. He takes out two plastic champagne flutes and hands them to her first, then he sets out the bubbly drink he got, followed by 4 Tupperware containers. “Speaking of which, I called her last night and she told me about your favourite snacks…” 
“No way?” She can’t believe it. 
He simply nods, a smirk growing, “It would seem you two love food.” 
“Well, it’s always late when we call so she’s seen a lot of my nightly snacks,” She admits. “Is that? No way…” She takes one of the containers and opens it up to find little croissant sandwiches. “You want me to fall in love with you? Don’t you?” 
He’s startled to hear it and she can’t believe she said it. It was forward and real and incredibly honest. But Spencer nods. Of course, he nods. “Yeah, I do.” 
She looks at him like that 'I do' was the big one. The most important one. And to her, it’s almost more important. “Really?” 
“I’ve spent most of my life completely alone, I’m tired… and I’m not settling, not at all, no,” he stutters out and worries he’s offended her. “I just mean, I like you, you’re wonderful already and everything I look for in a person and if you loved me I’d be the luckiest man in the world.” 
“Wow,” she can’t believe it. 
“Sorry—
“No, no,” she reaches out, dropping the container so she could touch his knee instead, “don’t, I’m just shocked, really…” 
“Really?” 
She nods, “Yeah, not many people have just openly told me that they like me let alone want me to love them?” 
“Me either,” Spencer admits. He’s ready to lay his whole heart bare to her. “I really want someone to love me and if that someone was you then I could die happy.” 
“Not on my watch,” she manages to smile. “My love means taking care of you. My love includes worrying and obsessing and making you entirely mine… it’s driven people away before we could even start anything real, I don’t want that to happen here.” 
“It won’t,” Spencer is quick to reply. “It can’t drive me away, it’s exactly what I want… and I want to love you just the same.” 
“You won’t have to try hard,” she teases, smiling up at him. “Come on, get comfortable, grab a sandwich and talk to me. Tell me about yourself and watch it happen.” 
“Okay,” he follows her instructions. 
He gets comfortable on the blanket, taking off his shoes so he can sit crisscross applesauce and he pours them each a glass of sparkling cider. “I’m sober,” he shares first. “I had some drug problems in my 20’s and I find if I avoid all substances, except coffee, then I won’t slip.” 
“Wise man,” she compliments. “I don’t drink either, mostly cause drinking alone is sad and I don’t like how it makes me feel.”
“And I picked this pinky one cause of the line in Paris…” Spencer admits which makes her peak right up. “You know, fake wine makes believe it’s champagne…” 
“Oh my god, you listened to Midnights?” 
He nods, “I went back to listen to Sweet Nothing and thought why not?” 
She can’t help but shake her head and smile, “That’s so cute, you have no idea how cool this is for me. No one I know really likes her, everyone acts too cool for Taylor Swift and then you come in and listen to her on your own accord? That’s— that’s everything to me, Spencer.” 
“I think she’s amazing, well, so far, at least,” he admits. “I’ve only listened to the one album but it was a great album, I particularly enjoyed Maroon.”
“Her track 2’s are always my favourite,” Y/N raves. “She saves track 5 for her personal favourites or songs that mean the most to her, like on Red there’s this one called All Too Well and it’s originally 5 minutes but on the new recording of Red it’s 10 minutes and it’s so good. It’s insanely beautiful.” 
“I can’t wait to listen to it,” he can’t help but smile. “I love listening to you talk about her, you glow.” 
“Here,” she pulls out her phone and headphones from her purse and plugs them in. “We can listen to it now if you want?” 
“Okay,” he agrees, taking an earbud and placing it in his ear while she moves closer to share the other. 
And for 10 minutes they sit there in silence, she eats her sandwich and he listens to the words with the most admiration. The hurt is palpable, the passion is gut-wrenching… he loves it and she can tell from the look on his face. He’s so focused and enthralled. She feels a warmth in her chest that she hasn’t felt before, something in this moment is what makes her really love him. She isn’t just infatuated, he isn’t just cute and nice… he’s special. 
“That was amazing—
“I never want to feel like that,” she whispers, staring at him intently. “don’t break my heart, please.” 
“I don’t plan to?” 
She lets out a deep breath she didn’t mean to hold, “I’ve never dated anyone before because I can’t go through the heartache. She made it seem so fucking awful I never want to feel it.” 
“It’s awful,” he admits, all the hurt he’s experienced comes forth, pooling behind his eyes as tears form. “I was in love only once. She died before I could tell her.”
“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry,” she can’t believe it. “When?” 
“In 2013.” 
“Have you been single for 10 years?” 
He nods, “Basically. I tried to date before the pandemic but she wasn’t really my type, it was more convenient so it didn’t last.” 
“Oh.”
“This isn’t like that,” he assures. “You’re kind and beautiful and you have a normal job and you make people's lives better… you’ve made Penelope’s life better. You are sunshine—
“Do not call yourself midnight rain I will laugh,” she cuts him off, biting back a smirk.” 
“I wasn’t,” he laughs too, “but it works here, too.” 
“I’m not always sunny,” she adds, making sure he knows that. 
“That’s okay,” he’s fine with it, really. “Even on gloomy days, the sun is just behind the clouds.” 
She can’t believe he just said that. It’s so beautiful and kind and about her? It makes her just stare at him, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out. She doesn’t know what to say. “Oh, man… I’m going to fall in love with you so quickly.” 
“Me too,” Spencer smiles, reaching out to hold her hand. He grips it tight and doesn’t break eye contact with her, “and I’m excited about it.” 
He only lives around the corner from her which means they see each other every day for the next week. They wake up at the same time, they get coffee before work, she drops him off at the police station and then she heads to the high school. After school, she goes and picks up something for dinner and he Ubers right to her apartment to eat. They talk well into the night, they listen to music, they watch documentaries and movies and they cuddle… she knows almost everything about him and he knows almost everything about her. He’s going to meet her family in the summer, hopefully, and she’s going to meet Diana in a few weeks. 
Being together is the most fun she’s ever had in her entire life. 
And while they’re not going on dates to get to know each other, they are dating and Penelope is happy about it for the most part. She’s just upset she lost her nightly chats with Y/N on Zoom. They barely even text now. 
When Penny finally does get Y/N on the phone, however, it’s on a night that Spencer has an intense case in Reno. The BAU are back in town… 3 women have died this week, all online sex workers, they never walked the streets and yet that’s where they’ve ended up. It’s heartbreaking. 
“I called him today during his break and he just sounded so defeated, it breaks my heart,” Y/N says with her hand over her chest and pleading eyes, “it’s too bad you’re not working with them again.” 
“Their new tech guy is good,” Penelope assures her, “and he’s got JJ and Luke with him so he’s fine… he’s more than fine, he’s Spencer.” 
She rolls her eyes playfully, “he is fine…” 
“You guys really like each other?” Penelope digs, she wasn’t going to pry and press too many questions but she can’t help herself. 
Y/N nods, “Yeah… I think I love him.” 
“Really?” Penelope lights right up, “Oh my god?” 
“I know! It’s been so nice, we were going to go on another date tonight but, you know, duty calls…” 
“How many have you had so far?” 
“Uh,” Y/N doesn’t really know. “Well, we unpacked boxes last Saturday and then on Sunday we went to the park and I’ve seen him every day this week…”
“I know,” Penelope pretends to be mad about it but she can’t stay fake mad for long. She loves them both too much. “I’ve missed you.” 
“I miss you too, I just like cuddles with my boyfriend more…” 
“Boyfriend?” 
She nods, “Yeah, I think that’s what we are, I mean, we’ve already talked about what we want and he said he wants to fall in love with me so I think that makes us boyfriend and girlfriend?” 
“Spencer said that? Shy, nervous, Spencer Reid?” Penelope can’t believe it. 
She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, I guess that’s him… I don’t know, he’s a lot less shy with me.” 
“Have you—
“No, no, not yet,” she waves her hands in front of the screen and looks panicked. “No. We haven’t even talked about it yet.” 
“No?” 
She shakes her head, “No… I mean, I want to and we’ve had some nice make-out sessions but we haven’t done anything more than kiss.”
“Wow,” Penelope is genuinely shocked. “I thought you would’ve jumped him by now.” 
“Hey,” she says with a cheeky smile. “I have self-control… so does he, I guess cause he hasn’t even tried to cop a feel or anything, he’s super reserved.” 
“Well yeah he’s spent 40 years being a virgin,” Penelope says without any malice, she’s just stating a fact. “He’s used to things not going there. I think you have to make the move.” 
“I was thinking that too,” she doesn’t sound excited about it. “I’m just really scared even though I know I shouldn’t be when it’s Spencer. He’s going to be very sweet and he’s already told me he thinks I’m beautiful and I feel it around him… it’s just so nerve-wracking.” 
“I was still a teenager when I had sex the first time and it was so scary, I wish I waited,” she really emphasizes Wish. “I wish I was mature and chose someone good and deserving and I wish he cared about me. But you have all those things right now, it’ll be worth it now.” 
“I know,” she tries her hardest to believe her. “I know it’ll be okay… it’s just the anticipation feels more like anxiety.”
“Which is totally normal, but it’ll go away when it happens, believe me.” 
“I do.” 
Spencer's cause goes on another 4 days. She brings him coffee and donuts after work, she meets his friends and ex-collogues and she understands now why he had to get out of it all. Emily is just a few years older than him and fully grey, JJ sneaks out to make phone calls to her family who she doesn’t see as often as she wants and Luke is still single no matter how hard he tries. The job takes things from them. 
She gives him a hug before she leaves each time, never a kiss, that would embarrass him in front of his new co-workers and his old ones would never let him live it down. So he gets just a hug. It’s long, they linger and then she goes home. 
It’s weird being home without him now that he’s been there often. She misses him dearly, every day. All through the weekend, he works. And then the case ends on a Tuesday at 3 in the morning and stays up just for her. He buys them coffee, he walks to her place and he knocks on her door right at 6:30, 15 minutes after he knows her alarm has gone off. 
She opens the door dazed and confused. “What are you doing here?” 
“I missed my best friend.” 
“Get in here,” she tugs him inside and makes him put the coffees down so she could have a proper welcome. 
She cups his face in her hands and kisses him with so much force and passion, it startles him. But he kisses her back. He wraps her up in a big hug, bringing her in closer, he deepens the kiss with the swipe of his tongue and she pushes him back against her door. It’s as fiery as the first time, it’s better than the kiss in the bookstore, there’s so much more feeling in it now. 
His hand roams up the flat of her back, over her shoulders and rests on the nape of her neck. His thumb caresses the skin under her ear, causing her to moan into the kiss and pull away, embarrassed. Her eyes go wide and she stutters on her way to find an excuse but Spencer just smiles, still caressing her, he brings his other hand up to cup her cheek, “It’s okay… you’re so cute.” 
Her cheeks heat up and she feels bashful as all hell. “Shut up,” is all she can manage to say. “I’m still half asleep, I mean, you should be lucky I already brushed my teeth before you surprised me.” 
“Mm,” Spencer hums, running his tongue over his teeth, “that’s why you’re so minty.” 
She just pulls away and reaches for her coffee, “And now I can’t drink this until the minty-ness goes away, so thank you.” 
“Should I go awa—
“No,” she rushes out. “No, you can stay. I can drive you home on my way to work.” 
“Okay,” he can’t help but giggle a bit as he makes his way closer to her, reaching out for her waist. “You like me…” 
“Shush!” She swats him away, “I have to get ready, don’t tempt me.” 
“Just one more kiss? Come on, isn’t it the deal that I compliment you and you kiss me?” He begs. “You’re so beautiful and smart and lovely—
She steps closer to him and presses her lips right to his only to pull back just as fast. He cups her face in his hands and stops her from moving away too fast and peppers kisses to her lips. “Spence— Spencer!” She giggles while trying to pull away, “Seriously, I have to go to work!!” 
“Fine,” Spencer sighs as he lets her go, only to pull her back in for one last kiss. “Okay, now you can go.” 
She just laughs as she pulls away and heads back to her room, “Come on, you can sit in my room while I get ready.” 
“Really?” He follows even though he doesn’t believe her. 
“Why not?” She doesn’t see why it’s a big deal, “I’m just doing my makeup and then I have to pick an outfit and I’ll change in the bathroom?” 
“Okay, yeah, sorry I just thought you meant you’d change in front of me and I didn’t think we were there yet?” 
“Oh, no,” she agrees. Taking a seat at her little makeup desk, she turns to him. “When do you think we should be ready for something like that?” 
“When do you want to?” He questions her right back. 
She shrugs, “I don’t know… this Saturday is 2 weeks of us being together so, I mean, most couples start moving further around then?” 
“We’re not most couples,” he reminds her. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Well,” Spencer hesitates, he looks a little nervous but he sits on the end of her bed anyway. “I’ve never had sex before… I’ve wanted to, I’ve tried.” 
“I’ve never even tried,” she’s incredibly honest. “Making out is as far as I’ve gone with anyone.” 
“Really?” He almost can’t believe it. “Why?” 
She shrugs, “I’m over-emotional and incredibly soft. I can’t do one-night stands and I’ve never trusted anyone enough to experiment before.” 
“Oh,” Spencer softens, “you feel safe with me?” 
She nods, “Extremely.” 
He gets up and wraps his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. She snuggles into him and holds onto one of his forearms, they both sigh. Completely content with one another. 
They agreed to try and go further on Friday night. They both have weekends off, so they could spend the whole weekend together if they wanted to. 
And when Friday comes, she isn’t nervous. It’s just a Friday. 
She placed an order for Chinese food when she got home from work and texted Spencer right after so he could get it on his way over. It was closer to his place and convenient this way and he just liked to get it for them. And while he’s on his way, she takes the time to bring out some comfy blankets to put on the couch for their cuddles later and she lights some candles and turns on her fairy lights. Her whole living room is set in a soft, romantic mood with the hopes that they could do more than just cuddle tonight… 
Spencer knocks 3 times to let her know it’s him and then he walks in, “Hey, so they ran out of spring rolls but they gave us egg rolls instead, is that cool?” 
“Yeah, that’s fine,” she doesn’t care, rushing over to the door she takes the bags from him and puts them on the table by the door instead.
He slips out of his shoes and puts them beside hers, then he takes his bag off and places it beside his shoes, next he takes off his coat and hangs it up. He even locks her front door for her, these are all things he’s used to doing after 2 weeks of visiting. She clears her throat when he takes too long to turn back to her, “excuse me, I’m waiting,” she teases. 
“Sorry,” he steps closer to her and places his hand on her cheek as he leans in for his welcome home kiss. It’s a new tradition that she loves so much and clearly he does too as she can feel him smile through the kiss. He kisses her once, twice and a 3rd time just because he can, “there, happy?” 
She shakes her head and cups both his cheeks, pulling him in for a longer, more passionate kiss. His hands go to her waist, holding her closer to his body, he wraps her up in a hug as well. She pulls back with an audible “mwah,” and a smile on her own face. “Now I’m happy.” 
“You’re so cute,” he compliments. “I missed you so much today.” 
“I missed you, handsome,” she compliments right back. “Um, I missed you so much I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay over tonight?” 
“Oh?” He’s only slightly surprised, “yeah, I’d like that… I just need to check my bag, hold on.” 
“Okay?” She’s a little confused about why he has to, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She just watches him open up his satchel and search the pockets. 
“Oh, good,” he says with relief in his voice as he pulls out a bottle of pills and his toothbrush. “I haven’t told you yet, but I’m on antidepressants… I take them every night before bed.” 
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she says without a second thought. “Do they help?” 
He nods, putting them back in his bag until later, “Yeah, I like them.” 
“Good, now, come on,” she grabs the bag of food and makes her way over to the kitchen so she can start dishing everything out. “Did you check that they had everything?” 
“You bet, after they forgot the red sauce last time I’m never not checking the bag again,” he says as he follows her. 
They spend a few minutes in the kitchen as they fill their plates with a variety of food. Spencer opts for a fork while she uses the chopsticks provided in the bag and then they move back to the living room. They put their plates on the coffee table and sit down criss-cross apple sauce together on the floor in front of the couch. The remote is on Spencer's side of the table, and the TV is on and ready for them to pick a show, but instead, Spencer asks how her day went. 
“Oh, it was okay with my juniors we worked on SAT prep and then with my 3 freshman classes we worked on their independent study unit and I’m now considered the cool teacher cause I let them listen to their music while they read,” she shares with a smile. “And then for my spare I filled in for Miss Tyndall, the arts teacher, so we watched a David Bowie doc while they all worked on different projects.” 
“Sounds like a fun day,” Spencer loves to listen to her talk about it all. “You’d be my favourite teacher too.” 
“I know,” she can’t help but smile. “How was your day?” 
He shrugs, taking a forkful of fried rice, he covers his mouth with his hand while he talks, “It was okay, no one died so that’s a bonus.” 
For the rest of their meal, they share little stories, about their day and things they heard on the news or on TikTok, funny anecdotes and memories from their separate pasts. It’s nice. She could listen to him all day and he felt the same. When their plates are empty, they both lean back against the couch and Spencer turns to stare at her with so much love in his eyes. 
“I’m really enjoying my nights with you,” he shares, and in the silence, she feels it. But he says it anyway, “I love you.” 
“I love you, too,” she says and a feeling of relief flows out of her in the form of a sigh. Her shoulders drop, and she looks over at him with a sweet smile, silent as they take in the moment. “I love you so much.” 
He places his hand on top of hers, both of them are in too much of a food coma to move closer or kiss or anything. They just hold hands and stare at each other. 
“I get it now,” she whispers. “I understand what she’s been singing about all these years… this feeling right here. It’s worth the heartbreak, I think.” 
“I can’t tell the future, but I know I never want to leave you,” Spencer replies, voice equally as soft. “I want everything with you.” 
Her heart starts to beat out of her chest but she knows she has to ask it. “Would you be my first?” 
“Only if you’d be mine?” 
She nods, tears bubbling behind her eyes, and she squeezes his hand. “I’d love nothing more… but I’m in a food coma right now.” 
Spencer breaks out in a burst of historical laughter first, causing her to laugh just as hard and lean into his shoulder. 
“Well, then it’s a good thing we have all weekend,” Spencer finally says, he wraps his arm around her and holds her close. 
“Even if we don’t do it tonight, do you want to sleep in my bed with me?” 
He nods against her, “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that a lot actually. It’s really hard to leave here in the middle of the night knowing you’re sleeping alone in there when we were just cuddling right here,” he motions to the couch. “I want to wake up with you next to me every morning.” 
The warmth that fills her stomach is a mixture of extreme happiness but also anxiety… it’s almost too good to be true. She pulls away and looks up at him with fearful eyes, “is it normal to fall in love this fast?” The words just tumble out of her. 
Spencer shrugs, “I mean… I’ve always heard the saying ‘when you know, you know’ and I’ve read a lot about love at first sight and the way we pick our mates based on familiar facial structures that make us feel safe… and I’ve been in love before and I never met her—
“But I understand why you loved her, she was the only person in your life other than your mother to truly take care of you and listen…” Y/N cuts him off, remembering the night he told her all about Maeve. 
“Yeah, and from the first day I met you, you’ve done the same,” Spencer reminds her. “You brought me muffins so that I’d have something to eat before work and you wanted to help me unpack and every day since you have cared for me more than anyone I know. Onto of that you’re beautiful and easy to talk to and you’re not only wonderful to me, but to everyone, you know. It wasn’t hard for me to love you, I’m just surprised you love me.” 
“Why?” 
“Well, for starters I’m a 42-year-old man who’s spent the last 20 years of my life hunting serial killers and I had a drug problem and I’ve killed people and I was in prison… you know everything and you still love me?” Spencer really can’t believe it. 
“Mhm, I love you because despite all that shit that’s happened to you, you still have a sweet smile and a big heart and the best mind I know,” Y/N confirms everything he needed to know. “I love you because you’re you. There’s no other reason.”
He cups her cheek and looks at her with the softest expression known to man, “I’m going to love you forever.” 
“Show me?” she whispers, pleading with her eyes to know just how much he loves her. 
“Do we just leave our plates here?” He teases, going to stand up. 
“I guess we can put them away,” she agrees, she moves to her knees and gathers up her own plate while Spencer does the same with his. 
They meet again in the kitchen, placing both plates in her dishwasher, she turns to the leftovers and starts to pack them away while Spencer moves back over to his bag. He grabs his phone and something else while she’s not looking and he opens up Spotify. He doesn’t have many songs saved to his account, just some classical music and the most important song… Sweet Nothing. 
She turns to him within milliseconds, “Spence?” 
He places his phone on the counter and hands her a little rock, one he picked up on his walk over to see her before work last week. He never had the time to give it to her between all their kissing and her getting ready for work. “Here… it’s only May but I can get you another rock in July.” 
She doesn’t want to speak or she’ll cry, but she manages to say: “okay,”  as she takes it from him and steps into his space to dance again. In her kitchen this time… 
She rests her head on his shoulder, his arms around her waist, they sway to the sound of the music and hold each other close. And then he kisses her shoulder and the side of her neck up to her ear. He cups her face in his hand and stares into her eyes, “bedroom?” 
“Bedroom,” she agrees, taking his hand in hers, she leads him back into her room and turns on just the one table lamp she has beside her bed, “should we light candles and stuff?” 
“Do you want to?” 
She shrugs, “I don’t know, isn’t that what people do when they have special sex?” 
“Special sex?” 
“You know, first times, birthday sex, anniversary sex… emotional sex,” she redefines what she meant and surprisingly she isn’t embarrassed. 
“Candles would be nice, then,” Spencer agrees with a smile. “Do you have condoms? Are you on the pill?” 
She smirks, “I bought some condoms on Tuesday after work.” 
He watches her open her bedside table and take out the box of condoms and a lighter, she hands him the condoms, “Here.” 
“Thanks,” he reads them over, latex-free, real feel, they’d work perfectly. 
While he’s reading over the box, she lights a few candles in her room and he takes a seat on the side of her bed, watching her. When she returns to him, she stands between his legs and rests her hands on his shoulders. “You’re sure?” 
“Absolutely,” Spencer smiles up at her and reaches out to hold her hips. He plays with the hem of her shirt, “how do you want to do this?” 
“Can we strip down to our underwear and get into bed and kiss for a bit and see where it goes?” 
“Of course, yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer agrees, he pushes up her shirt and she lifts her arms to help. Spencer has to stand up to pull it all the way off and then he looks down at her in her bra. “wow…” 
“Thanks,” she smirks, shaking her head as she reaches for his shirt to undo the buttons, “they’re just boobs…” 
“Just boobs,” he repeats with a small chuckle. “I’ll have you know everything about you is spectacular.” And with a rush of confidence, he cups both breasts with his hands, he runs his thumbs over where her nipples are hidden under the fabric and she has to bite her lip so she doesn’t moan. 
“Do you like that?” 
She nods and pushes his shirt off his shoulders until it's discarded on the floor. “Yeah. I don’t think you’ve ever noticed but… your hands… I watch them when you talk and when you’re tracing a page as you read really fast and you use two fingers instead of one and I’ve wanted you to touch me from the moment I saw you.”
“Mmm,” he turns her around and motions for her to get on the bed and she moves quickly, she’s resting her head on the pillows when he’s suddenly hovering over her. 
He runs his pointer finger from her chin, down her neck and between the crease of her breasts before cupping them both again and places kisses on her exposed chest. She arches into the contact and his hands follow both her arms until his fingers are interlocked with hers. Holding them over her head as he kisses her neck and shoulder. 
“So beautiful,” he whispers, “how’d I get so lucky?” 
“We have a great mutual friend, remember?” She teases,
He groans “Don’t mention her when I’m about to go down on you…” he says as he nibbles at her skin and it makes her moan, grinding her hips up against him, she wants him so bad but she still has her pants on. He sits on his knees between her spread legs and undoes the button as she lifts her hips, helping him glide them down her legs and off. He tosses them to the floor and goes right back in, gripping her by the hips he leans down and kisses her stomach… something she never thought any man would do. 
He wants her just as bad as she wants him and it’s prevalent in the way his eyes are blown out as he looks up at her, pleading with his eyes, all he says is “Can I?” And she nods. He pulls her underwear down and tosses them off only to lift one and kiss from her ankle and all the way up to her knee and then he dips in closer, smothering her inner thigh with kisses and nips and then he sucks a deep purple mark into her skin, lapping over it with his tongue before blowing on it softly. 
“Holy fuck,” she moans as he gets closer to her pussy and all she wants is his hands on her. 
Almost like he reads her mind, he moves to the other leg and hurries along until he’s kissing right along where her underwear used to meet her thigh. Then, he spreads her pussy and licks a broad stripe along her cunt. He presses a kiss to her clit next as she bucks her hips into the sensation, “Oh my god, Spence?” 
“Shh,” he whispers, looking up at her from between her legs like a man starved. “Just enjoy it, I’ve always wanted to do this.”
She’s so turned on from the teasing alone, and then he adds a finger, he gently circles it around her hole before inserting it slowly, seeing how much give she has before he takes it all. The feeling of his tongue on her is unlike anything she’s ever felt before, he’s soft yet rough and sweet yet disgusting with the noises he’s making. She can’t help reaching out and gripping his hair as her hips lift from the bed again. With only one free hand, he pushes her back down against the bed and she whines. When he adds a second finger, the stretch isn’t too much to handle, he’s so much better with his hands than she figured he’d be as he finger fucks her. His tongue on her clit and freehand trails from her hip up to grip her tit as he grinds against the mattress, he’s so into it she’s worried he might not get to really fuck her. 
“Spencer,” she pants, “holy fuck Spence, please, oh my god,” she can barely make it through the sentence when his fingers curl and her legs tremble.
“Cum for me,” he growls against her and her body listens as she jolts forward and she feels the rush flow through her bloodstream. 
“Oh!” she cups her breast and arches her back, oblivious to how he watches her while still lapping at her clit. 
When it gets to be too much for her, she grips his hair tighter and pulls him off, “fuck me, now… please?”
“Is it an order or a suggestion,” he teases as he kisses back up her body with his glistening and wet lips, “well?”
“Please?” She looks at him with the sweetest, most fucked out expression. “That was amazing, baby.” 
“Fuck,” he groans and drags himself off the bed so he can push his pants and boxers off in one fell swoop. Now, only in his mismatched socks, he doesn’t really have the time to take them off as he reaches for the abandoned box of condoms at the foot of her bed. 
She watches contently as he hastily rips it open and rolls it on before he gets back on the bed. He gets right back to where he was, between her legs, he places his hands on her knees and soothes them down her inner thighs, “you sure?”
She nods, “I’m ready.”
“Okay,” he says with a deep breath, readying himself in the meantime, he grips himself at the base and pushes the head into her, inch by inch, he watches as her mouth opens in a silent gasp. 
“My god…” he coos, “it’s like you were fuckin made for me.” 
She’s speechless, reading out for more of him, she’s desperate for his touch. Her hands land on his hips, his skin is so soft and warm and then they’re flush together. He bottoms out and stills, he drops down so that they’re chest to chest and she cups his face instead, “Hi…” 
“Hi,” he manages to laugh, holding himself up with one arm, his other hand pushes her hair back off her forehead and stays there. “I love you.” 
“I love you,” she says as she pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, he collapses onto her and wraps his arm around her, angling her hips up as he starts to thrust. 
The kiss gets hungrier, and they moan into each other as he picks up the pace, really fucking her just like she asked him to. She has no idea where this side of him came from but she can’t explain how much she likes it, the hand that was once in her hair is now pushed into the pillow, bracing himself as he hovers and fucks her deeply.
She absentmindedly runs her hand along his forearm and takes his hands in hers, interlocking their fingers before he holds it over her head again and fucks into her with vigour. Her legs wrap around him, every trust grinds his pubic bone against her clit and she’s still so sensitive, she’s so incredibly close that all she can do is sloppily kiss him and moan into his mouth.
His hips snap faster and faster as he fucks her and she can’t hold back anymore when she tosses her head back and sucks him in more. “Oh my god,” and “Holy fuck,” is all she can say, making him smirk. 
He’s trying his hardest to keep his composure, breathing quickly, it’s the best workout he’s ever had trying to keep the pace and please her right. “I might,” he says between pants, “I might last a while… cause my meds—
“I don’t care,” she uses her free hand to cup his cheek again, “I want to stay here forever, holy shit.” 
“Yeah?” 
She tosses her head back again, “Oh my god, yeah!” 
He just laughs and it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever heard. She’s right there at the edge when he retrieves his hand from behind her back and rubs his thumb over her clit, “you can cum, if you want.” 
“No, no, it’s fine,” she says, running her hand down his chest and looking between them to see what he’s doing, “I want to finish with you.” 
His grip on the hand she’s holding gets tighter, he’s sweaty and losing stamina and nowhere close to being done. “Do you want to switch positions?” She asks, “It’s okay?” 
“Can we?” He slows to a stop, “you’re okay with that?” 
“Spence, I love you,” she reminds him, “It’s fine, it’s better than fine, actually… I’ve heard all my friends talk about dudes who last 5 seconds, this is more than I ever expected.” 
“I’m just anxious, you can see why I take them,” he gets all blushy and bashful as he lets go of her hand, pulls out and sits back up on his knees. 
She sits up too, taking her bra off in the process. She tosses it to the floor and his jaw drops when he sees her naked chest, “fuck..” He mumbles under his breath. 
“Here, you sit up against the headboard,” she suggests, moving out of the way so he can take her place. 
Once he’s settled she straddles his hips and takes his cock in her hand, angling it toward her entering as she sits upon it. Once he’s fully inside she drapes her arms around his shoulders and smiles at him, “We can do it this way… now you’ve got a face full of tits.” 
His hands soothe down her bare back down to her hips, he licks his lips as he looks at them and helps her glide her body against his. “My god,” he all but moans, watching her boobs jiggle as she starts to really ride him. 
“You’re so deep,” she moans, tossing her head back again to free up her neck, he pulls her in and kisses her from her shoulder up to her ear, lighting sucking at her earlobe, he brings his hand up to cup her cheek and ends up gripping her hair at the nape of her neck and pulling her to the side so he can messily smother her in kisses. “No marks, I have teenagers to teach, ‘member? They’re fucking ruthless.” 
“Mhm,” he mumbles, too into it to really care, his other hand reaches down to thumb at her clit, he’s getting close and she wants to finish with him. 
He finally does cup her face with the hand that was just in her hair, he caresses her cheek with his thumb, pulling her back in for a kiss that’s all tongue. She moans into his mouth, running her hands down his chest, she uses his as leverage to keep pushing back before grinding down on him, he’s right against her g-spot and so fucking deep she can feel him everywhere, “Spence,” she whines, pulling back from the kiss, “are you close?” 
“Uh-huh,” he pulls her back in, kissing her deeper, he wraps both his arms around her back and lifts her up, laying her back against the bed and slams his hips into hers over and over. 
Her back arches again and she opens her mouth in a silent moan, it’s so good she can barely breathe. She reaches out for him, gripping his biceps, he attacks her neck again, covering her in sloppy kisses and hot breath. His pelvic bone grinds against her clit, again and again, bringing her right to the edge again until she finally peaks, moaning, she arches her back as her orgasm rushes through her but he doesn’t stop. He fucks her through it, chasing his own high. 
“Fuck, I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbles, through his last few thrusts, and then he stills with a groan, filling the condom, he drops down against her. 
they’re a ball of limbs, holding each other so close she doesn’t know where she ends and he begins. He buries his face in her neck, still kissing her, she holds him tighter, “I love you so much, too, Spencer.” 
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@reidsbookclub @samuel-de-champagne-problems @superskittles @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @midnightreids @ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129
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aonungsmate · 1 year
Note
Hellllooo
So I was reading ao’nung x reader fanfics and like I came up with an idea that was stuck to my head ever since. So like there’s a sound on TikTok where it’s like : “you’re not good enough for my daughter and I don’t want you to be around her, end of story” …..”so why don’t you give me one last chanc-“ but on ao’nung x sully!reader where she’s like younger than neteyam and Lo’ak, she’s the kind of girl who can be strict but gentle at the same time, help her grandma and mom to make food, heals, the type of girl that dads would be like “girls like you shouldn’t be bla bla bla” the type to walk grandmas on the cross way, type to open a bakery by herself and call it the Sully’s Family Bakery 💀 . So ao’nung wanted to court the reader but Jake, Neteyam and Lo’ak aim buying it so ao’nung had to come with some Metkayina specialty and gifts and maybe even fruitier a song 💀 but Jake is just a protective dad and it turned down to reader scolding 4 dudes who’s like almost twice her size about how she’s mature enough to know who would treat her right and stuff and kiri, Tuk and neytiri is just enjoying the scene 💀
I Hold The World, But You
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Ao'nung x Sully!Reader[Word count: 2.8k]
Ask and you shall receive- This is me ditching my written reports to feed all of you <33 Thank you so much for requesting anon!
Warnings: Nothing notable! Please do inform me if there is!
Ao’nung has never really known what it means to be alive.  He never faced any oppression nor any hardship of notable difficulty due to his social status.  Being the son of the olo’eyktan entails so much prestige, but he’s never really known how to live.  Not until he met you.
The moment you were born, you have always known the dangers of living.  Having been born into a family with warrior parents, who were both victims of war, evident pain is still visible in their eyes.  You were Jake Sully and Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite’s third child, their first-born daughter after they decided to call Grace’s daughter, Kiri, their very own.  Growing up as the daughter of the Toruk Makto and olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya meant bearing the horrors of reality that the na’vi have been facing for years.  Your father was deemed responsible for leading the forest people into many victories against the sky people, along with your mother and the former olo’eyktan, Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyitan, one of the finest warriors that the omatikaya clan who was known for leading the na’vi against the RDA forces in the assault on The Tree of Souls.  
“I tried to kill your father the first time we met.”
Having been born into Jake Sully’s family meant so much more than being a warrior’s child.  Your childhood was filled with love.  Your older brothers, Neteyam and Lo’ak, complete polar opposites but are both very protective of their younger siblings.  Neteyam, the finest candidate for the next olo’eyktan, the one who obeys to live up to expectations and earn the title of being a mighty warrior, and Lo’ak, the older brother who gets into so much trouble  to try and live up to expectations, most protective of you, but incomparable to your father, who acts as both armor and bow against the dangers of the world.
You grew up being taken care of by your older sister Kiri, befriending nature through her imaginative mind and immense affinity for connecting herself with the things that surround her.  Your family always knew that there was something special going on between Kiri and the world itself.  As if she’s connected to the things you see everyday, she would always see things from a perspective that you would assume Eywa would have.  
The scientists were not the only people left in Pandora.  You have also been introduced to Spider, a human child that was too young to be put through the cryo chambers.  He has greeted each of you as friends, and you do the same with him.  Despite your mother’s distaste in his presence, she couldn’t really do anything, for you and your siblings loved him as you would a friend.  You thought he was a strong person.  Someone you look up to, because he always seems to overcome his limitations as a human.
It wasn’t long before Tuktirey was born.  The most adorable sister you could ever have, although a bit of a telltale, much to your brother’s chagrin, she was loved by the whole family.  She looks like a bit of your father, and a bit of your mother.  Tuk practically looks like a mix of your parents.  You love it when she would play with your braids.  But most of all, you love it when she would turn to you for more stories and dreams that you would have, carrying the innocent curiosity that a child like her would have.  
You loved your siblings.  You really do.
But right now?  Things are just being so ridiculous.
“No, you cannot court my sister, Ao’nung,” Neteyam shook his head firmly, placing a protective arm in front of you, attempting to shield you from your suitor.  There your brother was again.  He’s having one of those stingy fits where he would deprive you and your lover of spending time together.  Apparently, there was this thing called ‘codes’, where you cannot see your friend’s sister in a romantic way.  The idea of it was ridiculous for you.  
Really.
“Brother, you cannot have a say in this.  You are not the one who is being courted,” you pushed his hand away, flashing a bashful smile at Ao’nung, being enraptured by his viridian eyes.  Your eyes were swirling with love and a mix of nervousness as they met those of Ao’nung’s, only to be interrupted by Neteyam.  “You are not to be courted by him (y/n), that is final.” 
Just what bad deed have you done to deserve this?  You obeyed your elders, went to hunt when told to, helped your fellow na’vi when being asked for help, learned healing, and healed others.  Eywa!  You even learned to cook many dishes after hearing your grandmother complain about how the food being prepared is becoming bland, if it were not for her cooking teylu.  You would always say yes to anything that your family asks of you.  
You always thought that you would not be able to say no to your family.  Maybe there are things that do surprise you.  Just like how your brother Lo’ak, is hissing at Ao’nung at this very moment.  
“What is going on?” you ran towards the direction of the two young men, carrying firewood that your mother had asked you to fetch for her.  There, you found your older brother hissing at your friend, for an unknown reason that somehow, you didn’t want to know.  Therefore, being the most resourceful person in the scene, you opted for the firewood, pushing them in your brother's arms and pulling him away from the metkayina boy.  “I am sorry Ao’nung, we will see you tomorrow!”  With a sweet smile on your lips, how could Ao’nung complain?  A boy who’s as smitten as him could never go against your wishes to stop the fight before it escalates.  Ao’nung’s head always tends to tell him to go big or go home, but right now, that saccharine smile was his priority.  He wouldn’t take the risk and make you cry, no.  
He would rather battle a hundred akula than do that.  He vowed to protect you after all.  
Even from himself.
But that one just seemed impossible.  He feels Eywa whispering to him that you are his muntxate.  
He sees you as someone he would spend the rest of his life with.
Arriving at your marui, you sighed at your father’s questioning gaze after just seeing you drag your older brother back, as if he was asking just what trouble he got up to.  
“What is it this time, Lo’ak?”  He crossed his arms, tapping his left foot in impatience.  You squinted at your father, knowing how he’d react if he knew he was in a disagreement with Ao’nung.  
“Dad, I found him hissing at Ao’nung again–!” “You telltale–  I knew that bastard had a bad influence on you!” Lo’ak hissed, his tail swaying back and forth with betrayal written on his eyes.  You scoffed, side-eyeing him for a second before facing your father with pleading eyes.  
“Bravo Zulu–” “Dad!” you yelled in disbelief, your jaw dropping when your father shook Lo’ak’s hand with pride evident on his face, menacing grins both on their faces.  You could feel a migraine turning into aneurysm when your eldest brother entered the marui, “Dad, you wouldn’t believe Ao’nung– Oh, you’re here baby sis!”  He chuckled nervously once he noticed your small figure in front of his father.  You responded with a glare, crossing your arms at the three men towering over you who take pleasure in making Ao’nung suffer.  
Clearing his throat, Neteyam puts a hand on your shoulder, coaxing you out of the pod, telling you that he has something to share with your father and Lo’ak.  Refusing to be excluded in a conversation you knew was going to be about how they were going to torment the metkayina you love, you stood your ground and bore your fangs, something that you did very seldom towards your family.  
“No.” 
Neteyam squinted at you in return, turning to your father for help, instantly getting his support in a matter of a few seconds.  “Yeah babygirl, we really need to talk about that trouble tailing your shadow every minute of the day, ‘kay?”  Your father said, giving you a smile of reassurance and pressed a kiss on your forehead that did not faze you, even for a bit.  Fate seems to be on your father’s side as you heard your mother calling for you in the background.  You groaned in annoyance, rubbing a palm on your face causing Lo’ak to snicker at you, “Oh yeah sis, best get moving before mom gives you a whooping huh?”  
You’d definitely get back at him when the time comes for him and Tsireya.
Bearing no choice in the matter, you were forced to evacuate your home and walked towards the direction of your mother. 
Your brothers and your father on the other hand, were having the time of their lives imparting their knowledge about your suitor and what they would be doing whenever they would see the boy approach you.  They have devised ‘the most sneaky’ plans to make Ao’nung back out in his courting, but were not able to deduce that the said young man was actually on his way to their pod as they were conversing with each other, bringing them to this very moment.
“I would like to court your daughter, sir.  She is as beautiful as the ocean, and her whole being might as well be my sustenance as I cannot imagine life without her.”
The na’vi are known to be spiritually connected to Eywa, singing and dancing is embedded in their hearts.  So no one could really blame Ao’nung when he broke into a song.
“I want to court your daughter,” he started, undulating notes while clenching his fist.
His eyes meet Lo’ak’s and then Neteyam’s, going back to Jake’s, “I know you don’t think I ought to.”  He smiled, reminiscing his earliest memories with you, a smile tugging at his lips, “I’m not bad, I’m a great guy you’ll see,”
“I think that you should be–”
They were all sitting on the marui, silence overtaking when Jake suddenly slammed a hand on the floor, hiding his face from view, until Lo’ak burst into fits of laughter, wheezing at Ao’nung his father and Neteyam following suit.  Ao’nung chose to ignore Lo’ak’s outburst, pursing his lips in deep contemplation.  He would definitely get him back for this when he asks his parents to court Tsireya.  Ao’nung licked his lips out of nervousness, seeking validation from your father’s eyes.
“I’ll be honest Ao’nung.  I don’t care if you're the goddamn chief’s son,” Jake straightened his posture, emphasizing that he was much mightier than Ao’nung was at the moment, he was Toruk Makto for god’s sake.  “You’re not good enough for my daughter, and I don’t want you around her, end of story.”  
Ao’nung winced at Jake’s statement, his insecurities taking over his mind.  He was the mightiest hunter in the clan that’s for sure, but who’s to say that you were looking for a hunter?  A na’vi as charming and lovely as you is sought by most men.  He would know because you were much like his sister, whom he finds himself being protective of, most of the time. 
“With all due respect JakeSully, I understand why you are being protective of her.  I have a sister myself, and might I remind you, your son desires to court her too–  So why don’t you give me one last–”
“Get outta here.”
He sang his heart out, yet he still got denied?
Does Eywa hate him?  Ao’nung immediately mutters an apology after thinking that way, his mind going in circles as he thought about his options.  Then he remembered, go big or go home.  Of course the answer to his problems has always been inside of him.
And so, Ao’nung prepared all sorts of things that he could give to show you and your family that he’s a good provider.  He foraged in the morning, hunted in the afternoon, twisted the most intricate design he could do on a necklace.  This very process went on and on for days.  He figured that he would rather put his feelings into action than waste his time bumping shoulders with your brothers to convince them to let him see you.  He knew that they would be as stubborn if he didn’t show them what he could do.  
His preparation did not go over five days, eager to please you in a matter of short time.  He wants to prove himself and he will.  After putting his gifts into baskets, he asked Tsireya to come with him in an attempt to distract Lo’ak and avoid disruptions from him.  His sister was aware of the Sully brothers’ antics and pitied her own brother, giving him a nod of agreement and took one of the baskets to carry towards the direction of your home.  He carried in his left arm the biggest catch he could find that day to offer to your family, along with numerous baskets balancing on his right arm.  
It didn’t take long until he reached the opening of your marui, catching the whole family on the floor, preparing dinner.  He carefully placed the baskets on the side of the marui and kneeled before the entrance, making you raise your eyebrow at the sudden gesture.  Your heart soared when you heard him speak, “Yawntu, I ask for permission to extend this gesture as the beginning of our courtship,” his voice growing smaller as he went on, “So, I offer you this necklace as a promise of love and declaration of commitment to you and only you..”  
He pulled out a smaller basket from the satchel he was carrying, presenting you with the most exquisite necklace you have ever seen, precious stones attached to both ends of the fang in the center.  You could feel your face heating up, getting nudged by your mother, with Kiri snorting at the corner as soon as she laid her eyes on your flushed face, and Tuk, she was giggling on your mother’s lap, casting a knowing grin at you.  
“I accept–” 
“No. no. no.”  Jake immediately interjected the proposal, standing up from his position, towering over Ao’nung in a matter of seconds, effectively making Ao’nung feel intimidated, his tail swishing in newfound threat, whilst your father’s was flicking from left to right, the end of his tail dragging on the floor to display his protectiveness over you.  Proving to be your father’s sons, Neteyam and Lo’ak copied him, standing behind their father, hissing at your suitor.
You have prayed to Eywa that she would somehow bless you with everlasting patience, but perhaps she simply does not want to show mercy to your father and older brothers.  
As if Kiri, Tuk and Neytiri were anticipating what was going to happen, they all huddled up together in one corner, deciding to watch things unfold.
“Yes, I accept.”  You said with gritted teeth, walking towards the entrance, your tail in full display as it seemingly found vigor from all the pent up anger that you have been feeling ever since your brothers found out about Ao’nung’s plans to court you.  Your mother’s smile widened in pride as she saw you display protectiveness over the mate you wanted to choose.  You glared at your father, walking in front of Ao’nung to shield him from their gaze.  
“This is my life, and I will find a mate for myself,” you said, “I have been nothing but compliant my whole life, and I will not break that streak by not following my heart!”  
The three tall men feet taller than you gulped, their ears flattened at your dilated pupils and snarl, currently afraid for themselves.  You momentarily turned at Ao’nung, smiling at him sweetly and showed him your neck, gesturing for him to put on the necklace that he had assembled for you, earning angry hisses from your father, making you huff, unfazed by his threats. 
“I will rip your throat into shreds if you so much hurt a single hair on–”  “Ma’Jake.”
“Oh no, dad we are not done yet,” you crossed your arms, making Jake look away in defeat.  Neteyam chuckled at his father’s surrender, making you raise an eyebrow at your brothers, “The two of you have a lot to explain as well.”  “We do?” Neteyam frowned, making him elbow Lo’ak.  “Damn sis, I have a good reason for–”  “No you don’t!  You are in the middle of asking Tsireya to be her mate too!”  
As if on cue, they all sat before you simultaneously, their tails tucked between their legs.  They could only wince at your words, a flurry of apologies thrown at Ao’nung, making you raise your nose up at your brothers and father, threatening them that if they so much treat your suitor badly again, you would find a way to live in a separate marui with Ao’nung.  
And they knew to take your words seriously.  
Muntxate - wife
Bravo zulu - military slang for well done
Teylu - beetle larva; delicacy in Omatikaya
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lady-dulcinea · 7 months
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Something the October 11th entry really highlights is how much Mina and Jonathan are sure about each other. How much they know each other to the point they can read each other without any perceived difficulty, and how their devotion, their partnership, although treasured and seamlessly reciprocated by both, is never even questioned by them.
When Mina receives news that Jonathan is alive, she goes, an unmarried and unaccompanied woman, all the way to find him and marry him, even tho he’s still traumatised, half mad from his stay at Castle Dracula, and in the eyes of society could very much be considered an “invalid”. But she marries him anyway, and although Jonathan does gently reaffirm the delicate state of his body and specially his mind, he never really seems overly surprised that she chose him despite it all. And in the same entry we see a similar reaction from Mina when Sister Agatha feels the need to inform her that she shouldn’t worry that Jonathan’s malady might be because of some other woman; she all but scoffs at the idea, because it hadn’t even crossed her mind. Of course there isn’t another woman. Similarly, as she eventually makes acquaintance with several men, all of them rich bachelors who grow a quick and openly affectionate bond with her, Jonathan has not a single moment of insecurity about it. Of course they all love Mina, why wouldn’t they? Jealousy requires a certain lack of confidence in your partner that neither of them has. Their worries concerning each other are always ALWAYS directed at external influences: That something will hurt them, or that something will keep them from each other.
Which brings us to October 11th, when that sureness is brought to it’s highest, most tragic peak. Jonathan knew what Mina intended calling them all to meet her before their trip. He was so sure of it he spoke with Jack beforehand to make sure it would all be documented correctly, as he himself would never be able to write down such a thing as a symbolic funeral for his beloved. And he also knew what she would make them promise to do.
Because Mina, beyond just wishing to have the littlest bit of agency over her own death, is being strategic here. She knows Jonathan will “be with her to the very end”. She does not need to know of the promise he made to her in the solitude of his diary. Their devotion to each other is a given, one they do not take for granted, but that they expect nonetheless because they know each other and the strength of their love. Had she read the promise, she would undoubtedly be shocked by it, specifically by the utter heresy of it, devout as she is to her faith. But she would not be surprised, and this entry shows her anticipating what the Worst Case Scenario could potentially do to her husband, and trying to avoid it at all cost.
No, I don’t think she gone as far as assuming that Jonathan would deliberately choose vampirism for her. He has been as much of a devout christian as her for most of their lives, and tho she is not blind to the changes the last few months (and specially the last few days) have caused on him, she would not there suggest the Holiest Love conclusion is anywhere close to his mind. For after all, she has explicitly stated that she wants to be received by the grace of God, wants the same freedom granted by the boys to the soul of dear Lucy, and Jonathan simply wouldn’t deny her that.
Right?
And guys, as much as I love Jonathan’s vow and how he absolutely refuses to let her “walk into that unknown and terrible land alone”… it is a selfish vow. Romantic to the core, but selfish. Jonathan knows that’s not what Mina wants. He phrases it in a way that makes it seem like he is doing it purely out of love for her, so she’ll not be alone, but really, the selfless thing would be to do what she asked of him today. Her soul would be free, there would be no more Dracula to torment the world and kill innocents, and when Jonathan’s time came, he would join her in heaven.
But as I said before, the only thing that ever worries them about their relationship is whether or not they are hurt and when there is something keeping them apart. Jonathan goes to Transylvania and Dracula tries to keep him there: they both suffer from the distance. The first time Jonathan went to meet a client was the first time he and Mina were away from each other since the wedding, and she expresses anxiety about that. The men want to keep Mina away from vampire business to “protect her”: both her and Jonathan are unhappy with suddenly keeping secrets from each other. “A door is locked between them” because there is a part of Dracula inside Mina’s mind and she cannot be trusted to know all their planning, and Jonathan is crestfallen about it. Their deepest source of misery is always not being with each other, not being able to communicate properly, not just be together. And they both know that. Mina is just severely underestimating how far Jonathan would go so they’re not separated. As it is, she knows her death would bring him terrible grief, and by asking the help of their friends today and making him read the burial service, she’s trying to both a) Guarantee that should Jonathan’s hand falter, more steady ones would fulfil her wish; b) Unite them once more in the care they all have for her and show Jonathan that, should the worst happen, he won’t be alone. The other will be there. He shall not be so lonely if/when he becomes a widower; c) Perhaps by reading the burial service he can become more used to the possibility of her death and ease his heart to the matter.
However, Jonathan promises nothing to anyone. He asked for Jack to make an accurate description of what happened so that no detail would be left out, and yet we hear no word of confirmation from him.
And I’m sure she noticed it, too.
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