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#I think the dad might show up at some point
blitzwhore · 23 hours
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I really really hope we get to see how Blitz and Millie met.
She's always so lenient with him when he oversteps her and Moxxie's boundaries, always so chill around Blitz no matter how unhinged he gets. And the more I rewatch the show, the more I feel like the reason she's so chill might be she knows things about Blitz the others (and maybe even we the audience) don't.
It makes sense that the way they met affects how she sees him, too, because we already know how the way Moxxie and Loona met Blitz impacted their relationships. Moxxie was at his lowest point in life, with no friends, family or partner he could trust; a victim of abuse and a member of a mafia he knew nobody outside of. And in prison, on top of it all. And just when he was about to give into despair, Blitz showed him sympathy and took him under his wing. So now, even though they bicker and get on each other's nerves, Moxxie does show that he appreciates Blitz (for example, in Truth Seekers after their bad trips). The same is true for Loona, who everyone had given up on, but who Blitz took in as well. Even if she complains about his displays of affection, she constantly gives him small smiles and softens around him, and takes care of him, like after Bee's party.
From what we know, Millie had a pretty good family life before she joined IMP. Unlike the rest of the IMP crew, she doesn't seem to have a horribly traumatic past. So, while there could be more that we don't know, it doesn't seem likely that her appreciation toward Blitz comes from him taking her under his wing when she was at a low point, the way he did Loona and Moxxie.
So I can't help but wonder if the opposite could be true. If maybe she met Blitz at a low point in his life—low enough that he couldn't keep his facade around her. There are theories going around that Millie could've been Loona's babysitter (the one Blitz mentions when he meets Moxxie). I don't know if it'll turn out that way, but I do like the mental image of Millie meeting Blitz at the very beginning of his parenting journey, desperate to fight for the humanity and the well-being of this extremely violent and unhinged 18-year-old girl. Desperate enough to hire a babysitter for an 18-year-old. I wonder if, maybe, one of the first things Millie learned about Blitz was just how desperately he wanted to be the adult role model and caregiver that Loona needed. I wonder if she saw him taking Loona's violence over and over, and still not giving up on her; not just that, but giving Loona the only bedroom in his flat and sleeping on the sofa every night just so she could have her space to decompress and feel safe. I wonder if, at some point, Blitz broke down and told Millie how scared he was of being a bad dad, or of Loona deserving someone better than him.
I just love the idea of Millie being this completely chill and functional young adult, and Blitz being this struggling 30-year-old dude who clearly cares so deeply and feels so inadequate that his whole life is a massive trainwreck.
So now, whenever Millie witnesses Blitz being overbearing and obnoxious and over-the-top, she immediately recognises it as an act, and understands that it's his way of communicating appreciation and seeking connection, which he can't do in other ways because he doesn't think he deserves those things.
Idk man. I just hope we get to see more of Blitz and Millie. I just think their interactions are neat.
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yesimwriting · 3 days
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I love ur felix fics sm!! ur one of my fave writers on here<<333 and no I don’t think itd b crazy to write for Nate!! I’d love to see how u would write him!! (Maybe grumpy x sunshine hehe)
hi!! this is such a nice ask :)) i'm so happy you like my felix fics
omg i love ur train of thought for a nate fic!! i've been thinking about that kind of dynamic for them, but in a really niche way
anyways let's have some thoughts on nate jacobs and sunshine/kind of sheltered reader!!
----
thinking about the moment in which you find out nate jacobs is your assigned partner for a project that's worth 35% of your final grade. if this was happening to you a year ago, maybe even two or three months ago, you might have been nervous for an entirely different reason.
but you're not that version of yourself anymore. you go out to parties now; you wear shirts to school that your mom buys for you the same way she used to buy you impulse barbies, with a wink as the cashier scans them, making you promise that you won't show dad what you got at the store; you're friends with maddy and cassie...you're on your way to best friends with maddy and cassie.
so you can't dismiss the gossip and the stares nate gets in the halls as a standard part of high school, not the way you used to. you can't just see him across the hall at his locker and mentally acknowledge that you get why girls talk about him the way they do. you can't just get paired up with him for an extremely long assignment and think oh, at least he's cute.
every story maddy's ever mentioned during sleepovers, everything she's teared up about after one too many drinks hits you at full force when your teacher reads your name and then his off of her list.
would she see this as a betrayal? it's not like you picked him and asking for a new partner is out of the question, a fact your teacher made clear at the beginning of the year. but maddy's loyal...fiercely loyal, and she expects that kind of commitment to be symbiotic.
you don't move, can't move until jules leans towards you, so close her hair spills onto your desk. "no fucking way." she whispers it in a way that'd make you laugh if this was about someone else.
you're silent, eyes finally pulling away from a brightly colored poster explaining the roles of each branch of the US government. you turn your head enough to look at where nate sits, the back of the room with a few other football players.
he's already looking at you. and when nate realizes you're finally staring back, he has the audacity to let the corner of his mouth pull into a smug sort of smile you're sure another version of you would have considered swoon worthy.
you're all instructed to use the last few minutes of class time to talk to your new partners, to make some kind of preliminary plan. nate's standing up and you're still recovering from the whiplash.
helplessly, you look over at jules who's clearly trying to get to the other side of the room before nate can get to you. she mouths a "sorry" that feels genuine, and points at the girl she's supposed to work with in a way that feels like over kill. you roll your eyes, picking up your pen and pressing the pad of thumb against its side to have something to do.
nate's in front of you before you know it. he's so tall it's a little intimidating when he's right there, especially with you still sitting. "you're everywhere now." a reference to the fact that you were both at the same party last weekend. you can still hear maddy's slurred i can't believe he's fucking here, before she dragged you out to the house's patio.
he's probably seen you more places. you're around maddy pretty regularly these days and from what you've heard, you wouldn't put stalking above him. he's probably a stalker in the way guys from the news are stalkers, calm and untouchable until they feel like the girl they're watching is moving on. then they snap and some news anchor reports that there were warning signs for months beforehand.
you're partially aware of your potential exaggerations, but you can't bring yourself to care. you've never really interacted with nate, but you want to hate him as more than the monster you hear about when maddy feels like ranting. you want to viscerally hate him. it's such an instinctual tug that you can't pretend it's all about morality. you're craving innate repulsion the way an elementary school girl wants the other half of a magnetic necklace with the word "best" etched into cheap metal. it's kind of pathetic, but then again...
"not last year, or last semester--"
he's baiting you and you're completely aware and you still can't help yourself. "what? it's illegal to make new friends now?"
your tone surprises you more than the fact that you interrupted him. you've never been overly shy, but you've also never been much of a fighter on your own behalf. maybe this is like the parties and barbie-style-bought-shirts, just another facet of the improved you.
nate seems surprised too, only he wears it like there's something funny about it. "no, you've always been friendly."
he says it like there's a joke in there that'd make the football players a few rows back laugh. it digs at you more than it should. he gets under your skin in a way that bugs. maybe that means genuine hatred is on its way.
you look up at him, eyes as unimpressed as you can manage. "so," the word is definite, intentional. "the project..." you're glad for the excuse to turn your attention back to your notebook, "i don't know if you want to work out a time to--"
"i'm leaving in like five minutes." you're about to point out that class doesn't end for another when he explains, "football game." ugh. another thing you can decide to be annoyed about. your homework schedule is now going to revolve around high school football. "can i get your number?" the idea of existing in nate jacobs's phone feels so wrong you can't immediately reply. he picks up on your hesitation, because he tacks on the one phrase that could get you to do anything, "35% of our grade."
you nod once, expression as blank as you can manage as you write out your phone number on the corner of a page. You tear off the bottom corner and hand it to him. "don't save my number."
it's so rude, your jaw almost drops, "what?"
"you're going to see maddy before the project's over, right?"
the implication immediately makes your stomach knot. you're not--you can't not tell maddy. she won't like it, but she can't hold a random partnering against you. and--and it's worse if you don't tell her, because then it's like you're sneaking around with nate. and it's--it's all for school.
"i'm not going to lie to her for you." it's so ridiculous, you can't even hold eye contact. his silence adds a second loop to the knot in your stomach. "why would i lie?" your own genuineness sickens you, you're backtracking immediately. "and--and it's just a dumb school thing, so she probably won't care that much."
"and you're sure she's going to believe that?"
"yes," the word is firm because it has to be. "because that's what it is."
"she gets paranoid."
no, no--he's doing this to get into your head and cause problems. "if she's paranoid it's because you're crazy."
"fine." he shoves the scrap of paper into his pocket. "save my number, don't save my number. tell maddy, don't tell maddy."
you sigh. "why do you care?" they're broken up...even if maddy takes it the wrong way, the fall out will be a you problem.
"she's going to think i fucked you to hurt her." you hate this--the situation, the conversation, the fact that you can't completely dismiss his train of thought. "who's known maddy longer?"
you're about to try again, to defend your friendship with maddy and call him crazy again when the static of the intercom speakers interrupts you. all football players are being called out of class to leave for an away game. nate gives you one last look before turning towards the door.
when jules slips back into her seat and asks if you're okay with everything, you nod and attempt a joke about catching fuck boy germs, but it doesn't come out the way you want it to. she still laughs, so you do too, but that's not as natural as it should be, either.
----
lmk if you like this concept/want more of it!! i had fun writing this :))
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masochistartt · 2 days
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okay fuck it jamie self perception post
jamie has been signed to city since he was a child. this is how the academy system works - they recruit players (children) from local grassroots leagues and bring them into their club system, hoping to raise them up to play for their club in the future (or sell them off to other teams for profit). these players are typically between the ages of 9 and 10 when they're first recruited, but can be younger/older. they're evaluated every year, and players can be cut at any time.
i think jamie joined city when he was around 9, solely because of the fact that he said his dad started showing up when he got good at football, and georgie my beloved would not let jamie go on a trip abroad with a complete stranger to him when he was 14. i think james started coming back around when jamie was somewhere between 11 and 12, playing for city's u14 team, and his skill at that age level is how james heard about him (it's not uncommon to hear about great players who are that age. city recently signed a like. legendary 14 year old and i've heard about it (young boys should not be having their egos inflated like that at 14 but that's beside the point)).
that's a whole lot of rambling before i even start touching on the original point – the contract jamie's had signed since he was ~9 that dictates what he must and mustn't do. this is the idea that he's had of himself in his head from that very young age.
screenshots are provided from the 23/24 premier league youth development forms bc honestly i cba to go back and find anything older (i've tried looking and it's not working so you're getting this) but
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the scholar here is the academy player. 5.1.3 and 5.1.4 are what interest me here. jamie was obligated to not only train & play to the best of his ability always, but he was obligated to maintain a high standard of physical fitness at all times from the age of 9.
think of the thoughts that might put in a young jamie tartt's mind. he had to be at his peak always. if he wasn't at his peak, he was disobeying his contract. he was owned by his club, and he knew that if they sell him, they'll make a whole lot of money off of him (there's a certain base fee x number of years the player was trained + extras = total homegrown player transfer fee algorithm but i don't want to do math rn so im not touching on that). i don't think jamie ever wanted city to sell him, so i think he put pressure on himself to be at his best always, to never let his standards slip, and when james came back into the picture, that pressure only grew exponentially.
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it's also interesting looking at the "the scholar shall not" section of the contract. 5.3.1 is interesting bc like. if the club (city) didn't think his house on the estate was safe they could've fully just. Moved Him. but 5.3.3 is insane to me. especially the beginning. "the scholar shall not indulge in any activity or practice which might endanger his fitness". this means no fun roller skating birthday parties. this means jamie probably knew how to ride a bike before he was 9 bc if he "indulged" in learning when he was with city that might have endangered his fitness. no rock climbing. no tree climbing.
and if jamie took things as seriously as i think he did (boy really wanted to play football, that was his dream in life, i don't think he would've purposely done anything to endanger that dream), i think he missed out on some fun in his childhood solely bc he was Keeping His Body In Full Fitness For His Club.
which brings us to Adult Jamie. bc he was raised in this environment, raised with the mindset of My Body Belongs To My Club, My Body is an Asset for my Club, it makes even more sense why he'd put up with the auction at the gala without starting a fight (even if the whole manipulate keeley & possibly bribe bex thing happened behind the scenes).
his club (even though he was on loan, it was his club for the season), was auctioning off Its Own Asset (jamie's body) to the highest bidder for a night. jamie's body, from a very, very young age (does jamie remember much before he was signed to city? i don't think so) has always Belonged to His Club.
this is also part of the reason that i headcanon jamie doesn't like driving - driving is, in his mind an Activity Which Might Endanger His Fitness.
also. for the record. this stuff is also in the professional player's contracts too.
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the player agrees to maintain a high standard of physical fitness at all times and not to indulge in any activity sport or practice which might endanger such fitness.
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3.1.6 is another reason i think jamie went along with the stuff at the gala too. the player agrees to comply with and act in accordance with all lawful instructions of any authorised official of the club. rebecca/higgins/whoever put on the gala is an authorised official of the club. he kind of. had to by contract not put up a fight with them about this
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the player agrees that he shall not undertake or be involved in any activity or practice which will knowingly cause to be void or voidable...policy of insurance maintained for the benefit of the club on the life of the player or covering his physical well-being including injury.
he still can't do anything that might get him hurt. i ignore that he engages in kink practice both in canon and in my own headcanons bc i think the heavier kink stuff really only comes in later seasons' timelines and even then he's engaging in that kink stuff with someone(s) who knows that this stuff is in his contract. they know his limits.
anyways something something jamie's body is an asset for his club (city and then richmond) and i think that says a lot about the way he views himself. you know ?
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thaliagrayce · 7 months
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i've been talking abt my voltron playlists and @iveofficiallygonemad asked to hear them and i want to share with anybody who wants!! i know they're not perfect, i'm working on them & trying to make them better. if you have any recommendations for any of them, let me know!! there's like A Lot and i want to give a lil explanation for most of them, so i'm putting them under the cut ^-^
SO first i have my favorite one <3 it's just. all of them. it's the whole team. it's a mess and it's a bunch of different genres because it's them fighting over the aux cord on a road trip. it's them trying to make each other laugh or annoy each other or play something catchy enough it will infect everyone in the vicinity with brain worms.
Hunk: i'm pretty happy with my Hunk playlist! chill vibes. he strikes me as the kind of guy who listens to calm music to try to find his own calm, and that's what i got here :)
Pidge: this is messier and less cohesive than my usual playlist because frankly i think pidge would have a shit taste in music. all over the board. this is a mix of meme songs and 8-bit covers and vocaloid and stuff that i think pidge would genuinely connect with, and i think pidge listens to all their music on shuffle without any regards for genre or mood because they're a gremlin. nobody gives pidge sole control of the aux.
Coran hears 80's music for the first time and loses his mind. He thinks ABBA is humanity's single greatest achievement.
Lance: i have ideas about where I'm going with this but haven't really settled yet. Lance seems like the kind of boy that loves to dance (is that canon? i forgot) so most of these are Bops That Make You Move in some way or another. he likes to present an upbeat face to the world, so there's no angsting in this playlist! we are clinging to the things that make us happy with both hands until our knuckles turn white!
Keith: i'm gonna be honest. i made him a playlist but i honestly don't think he cares about music very much. it's very important to some people! he's just not one of them! i haven't cracked this playlist open in a while but i'm pretty sure it's full of songs that i think he would conceivably train/work out to.
Shiro: this playlist involves the dumbest headcanon i have for shiro that has just not left me alone since i first thought of it. most of the playlist reflects the fact that he had an emo phase in middle school (that one isn't a headcanon, you just have to look at him to know) but BUT there are a few songs on here that are on here because. little known fact. he also went through a Twilight phase that he told nobody about. (keith knows. keith was there.) he has the entire twilight soundtrack memorized. he moved past the story but the music stays forever. he used to daydream about slow dancing to Flightless Bird, American Mouth. the first time Coran mentions that they have to avoid a place because there's a supermassive black hole there, he has to bite his tongue in order to keep a straight face. do NOT ask me why i believe this so wholeheartedly.
Allura's playlist sucks right now. I think it's because in my heart of hearts i know that, were she on earth today, she would go fucking nuts for taylor swift. i have ambivalent feelings for taylor swift. i cannot do allura justice like this. if you see my vision and have recs as to what might actually fit her, PLEASE.
Klance: i haven't done it yet but i'm gonna go through this and sort it to be a sort of progression of their relationship, starting with the more combative Rivalry songs, then slipping into "oh shit oh shit" songs, then maybe ending on the more lighthearted purely romantic songs <3
(i have two songs in a shallura playlist which does not at all encapsulate how much i'm obsessed with them. the tiny cop inside my head is just constantly screaming at me that i'm going to get yelled at for liking shallura. i am going to kill the cop inside my head.)
#mj talks#oooooh i don't know if i actually want to put this in the show tag. that's a lot of people. that's a lot of people that might see this.#fuck it we ball#voltron#anyway. as i said if you like music and you have songs that you think fit please send em over#also who wants to talk about shallura? i want to talk about shallura.#i rewatched the first ~3 seasons (the best part of the show and some of season 3) with my roommate a while back and.#ngl if we're strictly talking about the show itself and not fanworks. i care about shallura SO much more than i care about klance.#oh i should probably tag#klance#in case anyone has that blacklisted and just doesn't wanna see it#BACK TO MY POINT.#rewatch seasons 1 and 2 and you will see there was a REASON everyone included shallura in the background of their fics#and it wasn't just shoving 'space mom' and 'space dad' together#there is a very real and very compelling dynamic there. the mutual respect. the connection that comes with taking responsibility.#watch shiro's whole deal after allura gets herself captured so that he can go free and try telling me it's all in my head. just TRY.#anyway i have a lot of complicated thoughts about shiro's sexuality and most of them boil down to I Don't Think It Was Planned#i think they shoved it in last minute because somebody higher up#(not the writers i don't blame u writers i know that you have people breathing down your necks telling you what you can and can't do)#some higherup didn't like any queer storylines that might have been in the works and pulled them from the show#but then there was fan backlash because... gay people are loud now? people wanted A Queer In Space? wild thought#so they had to save their ass and actually deliver on what they had promised in interviews/on the internet/idk i didn't keep up too much#because it was so clumsily revealed! there was no buildup!#it felt very shoehorned to me unfortunately. when a) they had already built a solid and compelling potential relationship for shiro#(see above)#and b) klance was? right there? like. dude. you /had/ to have seen that. or at least some of it????#backstory dead fiance was not the best move vis a vis queer representation and i reject him#if you want me to care about a relationship try going back to storytelling basics and Show Don't Tell :)#not giving you brownie points for that 'queer representation' :)#anyway. that's my shallura manifesto in the notes.
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jrueships · 1 year
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Hi, so you know about the rumor that Josh cheated on his ex and that was very bad. But another rumor is not only did he do that, he also bought her a bunch of fake designer purses and fashion-minded fans could all tell 😱. But I don't think Josh would do that maliciously. I think Josh asked Stef about bags she might like because he knows Stef is into Fashion™️ but Stef being the petty bitch he is knowingly recommended fakes because of jealousy and evilness etc. I needed to tell someone this.
josh: WDYM it's FAKE??? it CANT be i- WDYM?????? STEF WENT SHOPPING WITH ME FOR IT AND EVERYTHING!!!! WE WENT TO ALL THE FAMOUS GUCCI SELLING SITES!!! We went to mcdonaldsss, burger kinggg, subway, the dark crime alley where batmans parents died (i had to hold him really tight because we were scared :( ...) (hold him really tight against a wall) (he sucked my di-)WE EVEN WENT TO T H E DUMPSTER!!!!!!! and DOVE Iwell *I* dove in. Stef stood back rubbing his hands together maliciously whilst laughing maniacally. but this isn't about him. BUT SPEAKING OF HIM... stef is standing in the corner maliciously rubbing his hands together while we fight. hope you don't mind :). surely his presence here holds no significance to this argument ! stef!! back me up little buddy :( !! we didn't know the Gucci bag that was actually just a Styrofoam cup i took a bite out of and you spit in before you wrote STANK ASS CUCCI on it was FAKE!! tell her WE DIDNT KNOW :(!!!
stef, standing in a Jojo villain pose:
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I Had No Idea .
#what if josh took stef shopping for gucci with him and stef was all taken aback bcs josh rlly is not!!#THE FASHION™️ !!#but he thinks josh is doing this bcs he knows STEF is into FASHION™️ and hes just trying to make stef happy#which in turn makes josh happy bcs hes just happy whenever his loved ones are happy#so he wants to do whatever stef wants to do and show him things he knows stef enjoys#even tho josh might not know much#so stef is all dressed up for their 'date' out into the expensive shops of the city.. rlly into the city date aesthetic#wearing shades with diamonds on the side and salivating at the idea of clinging onto joshs big hairy beefy arm as he holds stef#AND all the bad for the ecosystem expensive shopping bags filled to the brim with all of stefs material desires#maybe they splurge on a fancy v*brator or smthin idk the main point is diggs is in heat for being a bad bitch#and then he gets there and josh is dressed in cargo shorts and a 'i love fishin!!' stained tshirt which is normal#diggs gets all excited and clings onto his arm as they peer at various rich person things... josh hands diggs some bags to model#diggs does so dramatically and elegantly#josh does a cute little snort laugh#.... then takes it away from diggs muttering whether or not itll match the dress he bought his girlfriend#ah yes. the girlfriend.#the fun little shopping 'date' turns more into a dad and a son trying to buy some shitty little gift 2 years after mothersday#for mom. and no one is having a good time and they are bad people#ted asks#diggs/allen#😭😭poor diggs being put as the avril lavigne whatever guitar girl LMFAO yall are sum creative geniuses 😭
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rosesradio · 7 months
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🧍
#so for the mutuals that have been keeping up with the cute little tidbits i’ve been posting about my life—#i fucking hate my major#& after almost crying myself to the point of nausea again i finally did some more research on changing my major#i think i’m going to change my major from information systems to business administration#basically info systems is business & computer science & the bulk of 90% of my issues come from coding#like yes i also dislike my business classes & excel sucks but i find those classes to be easier & manageable compared to my coding ones#not to mention it’s mostly within the wheelhouse of my current major so it only adds two classes to my current grad plan#like yeah there’s gonna be more finance classes which i hate like i hate the math/accounting aspect#but there’s also more marketing type classes where i might actually be able to have a little fun and show some creativity#i imagine my dad will be upset with me—he wants me to stay in this major/not ‘be a quitter’/just ‘try harder’ to learn useful skills#but the alteration isn’t that bad & he can still help me with excel or whatever else#so the change should be good. i still plan to stick it out this semester because i think it’ll be a mess if i drop my classes#not to mention i still need like half the classes i’m taking rn#but since i’m getting my masters in library science it’s one of those things where it literally doesn’t matter at all what—#i get my bachelor’s in#anyways#rose.txt
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foreverxdaydreaming · 2 years
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pay attention to who pays attention to you, bc ik everyone acts like it's entitled to ask for basic decency nowadays but like... im tired of giving way more energy than i get, and im gonna start dishing that lack of interest right tf back. sorry for the vent but im t i r e d man
if you can't even bring up a thing that makes you happy or an interest (for the first time mind you) without having that person just deadpan on you, but they love to talk about their stuff.. they just love their own voice then lol. fuckin tired of this shit
#my friends my father basically everyone i know#my mom is usually the only one who ever even bothers to listen#and that's prob bc i also ask her about her shows and all that stuff#so like.. neither of us watch the other's stuff but at least we can converse lol...#literally whenever i go 'ooh i started this thing and thought it was cool!' or 'i think you might like this thing it reminded me of you'#its just deadpan. or the gc just dies... like gee sorry i bothered you with my friendship bro.... lol#yet everyone else's stuff is cool and yall talk about shit.. despite us all being into similar stuff...#but i always feel like i get the short end of the stick when it comes to respect and i am T I R E D of it#like yall will hang out w/ toxic 'besties' who backstabbed you & gaslit / manipulated but the second i bring up a thing noooo how dreadful#sorry for this rant ik i prob sound nasty and toxic asf rn but im just.. genuinely so exhausted... with everyone and everything...#its so hard for me to make friends but at this point... i might as well just talk to the wall.. why bother if im always gonna feel left out#deep d e e p sighs rn#but anyway i edited some wps today and just letting myself go thru it#tired of acting like nothing is wrong but also tired of trying to bring it up bc they never see anything wrong so like#me and mom against the world ig.. cause my dog likes my dad too much bc he spoils her against my will 🥱#/neg#vent post#vent / rant#rant#delete later probably#or keep it to archive how many times ive nearly never spoken to my only 2 friends again... lol#idk if i hate myself more or ppl in general more.. but both are top contenders tbh
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yamujiburo · 1 year
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HANAMUSA (JESSIExDELIA) MASTER POST
I probably should have started doing this forever ago but I wasn’t sure how long I was gonna stick with drawing these comics. But I guess we’re in it now! This will be continually updated~ EVERYTHING UNDER THE CUT
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BEFORE YOU START:
This post is required reading about Team Rocket’s ages since that’s usually a question that comes up a lot LOL. As for Delia’s age, she is said to be 29 in Takeshi Shudo’s (original writer on Pokémon) novel that built out the world and characters of the anime.
Next, I feel like this chart helps give the vibe of what these characters relationship is (all just headcanons except for their names and ages)!
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WHERE TO START:
Here’s a post I made detailing how Jessie, James and Meowth initially start living with Delia. It also goes into what each character does in this AU. Before going into the post, you might enjoy this fanfic my girlfriend commissioned! It’s based off of said post and is a more enjoyable read.
Here’s also a list of headcanons!
COMICS:
Here’s all the comics I’ve done! The order of most of them are pretty ambiguous and up in the air but I put them in the order I kinda see in my head! There are some that do take place before Jessie and Delia start dating though! Also a few comics that have several parts but the “next” and “prev” links will be in each comic. So I’ll only link the first part of those ones in this masterpost.
Pre-Relationship
Fast Food
Ophidiophobia
Whipped
Making Eyes
Hairbrush
Inquiries
Separated
First Kiss
During Relationship
Big Bed
Tattoo
Crumbs
Pet Clown
I’d Like To
Jessica
Lipstick (not a comic but some fun extra dialogue for this)
Glow
Official
Stare Down
Shovel Talk
Invisible Walls
Date Night
Face Blind
One Motto Away
Snowgasboard
Delia’s Got a Cold
Mr. Jessie Ketchum
Peek-At-Chu
Hands Off Pikachu!
Wine Nights with James
Beauty and the Beach
Turning Point Arc
Sunscreen
Where Do Babies Come From
Love Life
Ugly
Ace Trainers
Pikasitting
Mother’s Day
Father’s Day
Gift for Delia
Gift for Jessie
Jessilina Fan
Crossdressing
Hickeys
Journey Arc
Tone
Cooking Twerp
Son
Cooking Advice
Serperior Facts
Cassidy’s Cabin Arc
Father/Son Bonding
Glasses
Uniform
Study Help
Happy Valentine’s Day
Wrapped
Daddy Daughter Double Battle
Splinter
Married Life
Wedding
Arbok/Weezing Reunion
Snake Eyes
MISC DRAWINGS:
I’ll update this with links to my other miscellaneous drawings later! 
FAQ:
What does "Hanamusa" mean?
Hanamusa is a combination of Delia and Jessie's Japanese names, Hanako and Musashi respectively.
When does this AU take place?
It takes place sometime after the Mezase Pokémon Master/To Be a Pokémon Master series. So all the events that happened in the series, unless retconned within the series, happened. Ash is 10 at the start of the comics.
What's the status between Jessie, James, Meowth and Giovanni/Team Rocket?
Not great terms since they were fired, but also not the worst terms. Giovanni just let the three of them go without any further issues. I will say that I've always loved the theory that Giovanni keeps Jessie specifically around because of her parentage and he as a soft spot for her that he keeps a secret. I feel like Matori was the one that got the three of them fired and Giovanni wasn't able to make an excuse for them this time (without showing nepotism/special treatment) so he was forced to let them go.
If you headcanon Delia as a lesbian, how did Ash come to be?
Delia was young when she had Ash and I hc that she just didn’t really explore her sexuality much! I myself didn’t realized I liked women until I was 18 and didn’t know I liked ONLY women until like 2 years ago. She got married, had a baby and realized after her husband left that she liked women (trans people exist obviously but I’m also interpreting Ash’s father as a cis man).
Who do you think Ash’s dad is?
I don’t know and I don’t really care to explore it. I’m going off of the novel interpretation that he’s just a deadbeat that left to be a trainer, failed and never came back because of the shame. He’s not important.
Isn’t Giovanni Ash’s dad?
That’s a common misconception that people remember wrong from the Pokémon Live show. Delia mentions she dated Giovanni but then left him and his gang after meeting Ash’s father. I also don’t consider the live show canon personally! I follow The Birth of Mewtwo timeline where Madame Boss founded Team Rocket.
Do you think Delia and Giovanni dated at least?
Nah, I think he’s too old for her? I always got the vibe from The Birth of Mewtwo that he was quite a bit older than Jessie and it’d be sus if he was dating Delia when she was married to, and had a child with her husband at 18/19. He’s a bad guy but not a BAD guy.
You mentioned you still ship Jessie and James. Why not make a Jessie, James, Delia polycule?
I have a few reasons I’ve mentioned before! 1. I’m in super deep with this AU already and I feel it’d be very confusing for casual viewers of my stuff if James was added into the relationship haha. 2. I’ve drawn Jessie and James together since 2011 and took this AU as an opportunity to try my hand at writing them as queer, platonic besties bc I love that interpretation of them a lot as well. 3. I’m not poly myself and the way I write this ship is largely based off of my experiences with my girlfriend. I just know I’d favor the Jessie/Delia of it all which isn’t fair and not a good interpretation of a poly relationship. All that said, I DO super enjoy seeing peoples’ poly headcanons and art!
Who does James end up with in this AU?
No one. He's aroace and is happy to be single
Do Jessie and James have all their Pokémon in this AU
I think they have all the Pokémon that they did by the end of Mezase Pokémon Master (all their Pokémon that were left at HQ). Most of their released Pokémon have stayed released and the Alola Pokémon are still in Alola. I bring back Arbok and Weezing post-Jessie and Delia getting married. I may bring back Chimecho, Growlie and Cacnea if I think of an idea I like!
What are Meowth and James up to in this AU?
Hop back to the top of this post under the "Where to Start" section. All your questions will be answered.
Does Ash travel with anyone at this point of his life?
I don't have anyone in particular in mind! I could see him making new friends (Nemona???) or traveling with different combinations of old friends. Like him, Misty and Goh, him, Dawn and Cilan, him, Serena and Lillie etc.
Will Delia ever get over her phobia of snake Pokémon
Not fully! I think overcoming fears is fine and good but I think real PHOBIAS are much harder to get past and I don't want to cheapen it. She slowly gets used to Jessie's Seviper specifically and gets to the point where she can pet it comfortably with Jessie in the room. But otherwise, still scared and would need that same amount of time per Pokémon
Is Jessie gaining weight or is it just me?
Not just you! Jessie puts on a bit of relationship weight overtime as you'll see in the later comics in the timeline. Jessie grew in poverty, never knowing when her next meal would be and that continued into her life as a Team Rocket member. Once she was able to settle down (with a woman who runs her own restaurant no less) she's able to live a healthier lifestyle with regular meals and puts on some weight because of that.
Does Jessie ever feel self conscious about gaining weight?
Nope! She feels happier and healthier and hotter. She's also unreasonably excited to clear out her old clothes and get a new wardrobe.
Would Jessie and Delia ever have kids together or adopt?
Nah, Ash is enough for them! I have come up with hypothetical kids for them but they're not canon to this AU. Just a fun little thing for me.
Will you ever put this on webtoon?
Nah. People mostly ask me this because they want to read everything in the order of the timeline but to my knowledge, you can’t reorder chapters or installments which would defeat the purpose. I also don’t think nintendo fan stuff would fly there. Also, also it’s just extra work and another place to upload and I want to keep this all fun for myself~
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nethereasypeasy · 5 months
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Some fluffy head canons I have about the Baldurs Babes
mainly at camp :)
Gale stops tav to lace their boots, sarcastically tutting as he does it.
Karlach holds her hands round someones bowl and cups to warm them if they cool down too much. (Mama K microwave™)
Jaheira and Halsin share nightcaps and chat about the tadpole team. Mainly laughing at their comparative lack of experience - always ends on a 'they're good eggs tho' vibe.
Astarion and Shadowheart rate people's hair to eachother as an injoke, tav hears them mumbling numbers behind them whenever they speak to someone.
Lae'zel asks Gale to explain and pronounce things when no one is around because the 'annoying wizard' won't make fun, he's too eager to teach.
Jaheira has the best bedtime stories but they get Karlach hyped up and she asks a lot of questions till Astarion begs her to be quiet. Wyll takes mental notes for his own storytelling.
Karlach will force a game of 'I Spy' any time there is silence on the road.
Wyll is very good at little random gifts, he just remembers anything someone mentions to him. He's also low-key emotional if you return that kindness, 'you remembered?! 😭'
Halsin stops, kneels and whispers as he points and shows tav interesting plants or animals he spots when walking. 'look there's the mother and her babies' type shit. (He is camp dad(dy) ok)
Wyll teaches Lae'zel fencing. She's too keen though and tries to pin him down. She is not as graceful... But she has fun... chk!
Gale keeps a tiny portrait of Tara on him, you can't tell me modern au Gale's phone wouldn't be full of cat pics.
Astarion watches over the camp at night, he acts like he 'might as well/ I'm the only one lurking in the dark around HERE darlings' but sometimes he secretly gets a little teary looking at his first real friends all together.
Shadowheart writes moody poetry. She would tell Gale but she doesn't care for his taste... Or his possible critiques. If he ever did find her journal though he would be VERY enthused.
Astarion and tav will play with people's wardrobes when looting. Tav loves a funny hat and Astarion will do impressions of who he thinks would wear such god's awful attire.
Gale and Wyll play chess together after dinner some nights. They both say progressively cheesy lines when they take pieces, which is its own game itself at this point.
Halsin would quietly sing or hum to owlbear baby and scratch at night. Little lullabies and he'd probably tuck them in too. OR he'd be big daddy bear and snuggle up, especially when owlbear is scared and misses his mum.
The gang have played 'never have I ever' ONE time and ONE time only. It was a messy night.
... Jaheira was 100% last man standing.
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drchucktingle · 25 days
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autistic expression in a neurotypical art gallery
this morning i thought i would talk about AUTHOR VOICE specifically when it comes to AUTISM. as autistic author i have learned to turn the dial up and down when writing characters. rose from CAMP DAMASCUS is basically exactly where i rest on spectrum and this shows in a few ways
in roses internal monolog you will see that she uses phrases like ‘my friend’ to talk about folks where neurotypical buckaroos might just use first name. or with her parents she will think of them in FIRST NAME instead of ‘mom’ or 'dad’. this is way many autistic buds THINK
to explain this trot I will say it is not a way of disrespect or anything like that, it is simply that these terms are TECHNICALLY all correct and interchangeable. socially, autistic buds often learn to mask by pinpointing WHEN to use these words that logically the same to us.
in CAMP DAMASCUS i left these things in to create character, but if you go back in my writing you will see it. in TINGLERS this is because they are honest in PUNK ROCK way. unfiltered expressions. in earlier novels its admittedly just because i did not realize it was unusual yet
point is, ROSES internal dialog in camp damascus is neurodivergent and i CHOSE not to change her thought process in this way, because we are BOTH autistic. this can be a risk because some neurotypical buckaroos will read it and just think ‘what a strange way. this is bad writing’
camp damascus reviews are actually very good it is a very well received book by any measure, but you will see some folks kind of making fun of these traits (i do not think they would do this if they knew it was authentic autistic way BUT we cannot educate EVERYONE on this trot)
POINT IS i am now faced with an artistic choice in later books. do i write with my AUTISTIC voice even though some neurotypical readers find it awkward? in technical sense some readers WILL think each book is better if i eliminate my autistic tendencies in later edits
my advice is this: character voice IS SO IMPORTANT, but a big part of writing is finding the place between YOUR voice and your CHARACTER voice where both are authentically existing in some way. like acting, you are always bringing something of yourself even when you 'disappear'
when writing BURY YOUR GAYS i did not plan to make misha on the spectrum, but misha is part of me and i am on the spectrum. what i have realized over time is that ALL OF MY CHARACTERS will have these traits in some way because i wrote them, and i will never disappear completely
so when edits came for BURY YOUR GAYS and misha, i took that dial and i turned it farther towards neurotypical than i did with rose, BUT I DID NOT TURN IT OFF COMPLETELY. in literal sense, i left some of those ‘my friends’, because i will always bring MY VOICE to my art as well
i am proud of being on the spectrum. while my voice may not hit every convention of ‘good writing’ it is authentically ‘MY writing’ and i think that is more important than any outside checklist for ‘correct literary expression’. and guess what THE RESULTS ARE IN, MY BOOKS DO WELL
so if you are an artist getting feedback or reviews, consider which parts you can LEARN FROM and grow and change, and which parts are just AUTHENTICALLY YOU. because while your honesty may defy conventions and seem unusual to some folks, IT IS OFTEN WHAT MAKES YOUR ART SING
feel free to turn that dial marked 'YOUR TRUE VOICE' up and down when it makes sense. i do this all the time. but i have long since decided i will never turn that dial OFF completely. your voice is your POWER buckaroo, dont be afraid to sing with it
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transmunsons · 5 months
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Eddie teaches Steve how to fight. The Munson name might be good for nothing but they were a scrappy lot. Eddie learned early how to throw a punch. His dad said real boys knew how to fight, so put your whole body into it, twist your hips.
Eddie had heard King Steve got his face beat in by the Byers kid. Also heard he might’ve deserved it. And that Byers got off with hardly a scratch. But none of that was his business. He was just trying to graduate.
The second time Steve showed up to school with a face full of bandages, he took pity on him. This time he’d apparently gotten into a fight with that mouthy new kid, the one who gave Jeff the heebie jeebies. They ended up in detention together and Eddie leaned into his space and asked some questions, like “how come you get beat up more than my ducklings?”
Apparently the pretty rich boy had never learned how to defend himself, never needed to. What a waste of muscles. Which is how Eddie ended up giving Steve a lesson in the middle of Ms. Pratt’s room. Keep your fists up, turn your body so you’re a smaller target, shift your weight to your toes, and if you need to: scream.
“What?” Steve lowered his hands, bewildered.
“Yeah, man, just scream.” Eddie said. “At the worst, it’ll give you a second while they’re confused and at best they’ll think you’re nuts and disengage entirely. It’s a win-win scenario.” He shrugged.
“Is that how you fight?” Steve asked.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed my reputation around here, Harrington, but half the school wouldn’t touch me with a rainbow colored pole and the other half thinks I’m straight up insane. No one’s gonna fight a crazy person, ‘cause crazy people might just kill ya.”
“Thanks for the advice.” Steve remarked. He packed up the singular sheet of homework he’d tried to do.
“No problem, that face is too pretty to be marked up all the time.”
But Steve couldn’t stay out of trouble for long.
Eddie was trying to see if the new mall theater was as easy to sneak into as the Hawk when he passed by some teens in sailor costumes slumped by a water fountain. One of them pointed at him as he walked by.
“Munson! It worked!”
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sundrop-writes · 1 month
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Careful - Chapter Two
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(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter Two: Liar
Why should I deny what's all at once, so crystal clear?
Summary:
Spencer is eager to talk to you - to find out if your son is actually his. But there are more important matters at hand, like the fact that you might be the next target of a serial killer who is actively stalking single mothers.
The two of you get locked in a battle of wills when you stubbornly refuse his protection and Spencer remains determined to keep you safe.
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst and Smut.
Word Count: 8,900
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: again, general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of killing/murder, mentions of the reader being a target for a killer; mentions of the reader buying and using a vibrator (does not take place during the fic, more so mentioned as the reality of the ‘sex life’ of a single mom); the reader and Spencer parted on very bad terms (but the details of the situation are not yet revealed); the reader is very angry towards Spencer; the reader and Spencer argue; the reader is in denial that she is the target of a killer; there is some mention of Sebastian having similar hair to Spencer - but I don’t want that to describe or exclude the reader’s race because in the next chapter, there is a mention of Sebastian having the reader’s skin tone; mention of the reader ‘shoving’ Spencer out of anger (not hard enough to cause harm); mention of the reader owning a gun (registered with gun training) as a form of self defense; mention of the reader character celebrating a birthday - but there is no mentions of specific dates or months when the fic is set, so you can easily imagine that this takes place around your birthday (aside from mentions of holidays or seasonal weather); mentions of JJ x Will; JJ talks about her trauma regarding dogs after being attacked in 2x15; this ends in another flashback, this time including flashback sex (smut); Spencer cuts off foreplay to give the reader a birthday present - mentions of heated kissing and some groping; Spencer calls the reader ‘Princess’ (not during sex - in the context of ‘I am here to serve you like royalty’); the smut basically consists of Spencer eating the reader out. And I think that’s it for this chapter. 
A/N: Okay so something I did not intend to happen - a lot of this chapter is from JJ's perspective. It just naturally started happening while I was writing it, and it was really interesting to me to write about Spencer and the reader's relationship through her eyes (especially to keep the conflict between them vague to the audience, because JJ doesn't know the details of what happened), and it's not something I did intentionally, but I really loved how it shaped the chapter, so I kept it in. Also, I really wanted to include a lot of JJ x Spencer friendship and comfort moments in the fic because (as a lot of people in the fandom have discussed) - the writers love to have the characters say that JJ and Spencer are best friends, but they don't often show it. They just show a lot of conflict between them. So I wanted to show the potential of their friendship. And I had a lot of fun exploring that. So - I hope you guys enjoy the second chapter, and definitely hope to see you come back for chapter three!!!
...
When you heard someone knock on your door, you thought it was a delivery. 
You had ordered Sebastian some new educational coloring books, and some new CDs with Mozart concertos to fall asleep to, because he was getting bored of his current ones. You often felt like you couldn’t keep up with him - Sebastian was so damn smart, and you always tried to provide him with the best resources to learn. Even if he was getting to a point where he was asking for high school level chemistry text books and actually seemed to understand the material in them and you were confused about how he could comprehend any of it. 
The package also could have been the new vibrator you had ordered. You weren’t sure if that package was small enough to be left in the mailbox or not. You had to roll your eyes when you thought about how pathetic your sex life had been since having Sebastian. But you couldn’t risk bringing random men through the house just for sex when you had Seb around. So battery power and smut novels, it was.
“Sorry!” 
You called out, hoping the delivery person would wait, as you raced to get to the door. You hoped they wouldn’t just slip one of those ‘failed to deliver’ notes into your door handle and force you to run an extra errand with a kid under your arm. You tripped over a toy truck and cursed yourself for procrastinating cleaning up (again). 
“Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-” 
‘I was in my office, in the back of the house.’ 
The sentence died off on your tongue when you finally fumbled the door open - your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him. 
Spencer Reid. 
The father of your child, the man you had once loved. 
Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion. 
Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief. 
Shock. 
You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here? 
Was he here because of Sebastian? Was he angry? He had to be angry that you hadn’t told him about Sebastian for all of these years. He had to be angry that you had given birth to his child and not told him about it. 
You flickered back to lust for a moment as your eyes traced over him. 
He looked good.
Somehow, he had grown up so much in just four years. He had gone from a gangly, boyish man to a full blown man. But he was somehow still so much the same. His hair had grown out a lot since you had last seen him - instead of the neatly combed, short cut you had last seen him with, it was downright wild. The chocolate brown locks were sprawling out into the thick curls that you had come to see sprouting from your own son’s head. It wasn’t a look that you were used to on Spencer, but it looked damn good on him. 
He was wearing his usual leather messenger bag - probably the exact same one from years ago. And he clearly had the same dress sense, but these clothes in particular made you want to jump his bones. A lavender cardigan that complimented his skin tone so well - and his usual button up shirt and tie, along with his usual gray slacks. 
You desperately wanted to blame the sting of attraction that you felt for him on the recent lack of male suitors in your life; the fact that you hadn’t gotten laid in a long time. But you knew it was something else, too. Your previous attraction to him - the fact that because you had slept with Spencer before, you could still feel the ghost of his hands and tongue on your body. 
How did he look so good? 
He made you feel like a slob in your casual ‘work from home on a random Tuesday’ Mom clothes. If it had been your choice, he definitely wouldn’t be seeing you for the first time in years while you were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that you were sure had raspberry juice stained on it somewhere, and eyeliner that you had slopped in between traffic lights in the car that morning. 
(You hated it.) 
“Y/N,” 
He finally broke the silence, speaking your name in that honey-sweet way. 
Unfortunately, it brought you rocketing back to that night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over. 
This chased out that tiny splash of lust and brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions. 
Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. More longing. Regret. 
Like your brain was a spin wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage. 
And that was when you finally spoke. 
“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom, your neck aching as the blood pumped hard through your aorta. 
Immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and fear took over his face. 
“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked fiercely, this question rocketing back to the forefront of your mind. 
Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that suddenly, you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say. 
You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch. Without even thinking, you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You screeched. 
You let your emotions carry your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was resentment and heartache that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time. 
“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You screamed. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?” 
You gave him another hard shove. Perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, even you weren’t sure. 
Spencer just looked at you with wide-eyed shock. Clearly, for once in his life, at a loss for words. 
“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat. 
“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out. 
“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.” 
You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless. 
He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception. 
The two of you became locked in an icy staring contest, neither of you speaking. Spencer found his throat too dry, and for once, his head far too empty. You were simply too angry and too stubborn to speak in those moments. 
This stalemate was only broken up when JJ walked around the corner. 
“Spence, Hotch just told me that the first woman doesn’t even match the-” 
“JJ!” You cried out her name happily, your entire demeanor changing when you saw her. 
She grinned, completely forgetting whatever news she had to report to Reid as you practically flew off the porch and ran to meet her. JJ eagerly opened her arms to hug you, and you squeezed her with all the warmth and kindness of an old friend. 
Spencer felt a pang of jealousy that he wasn’t being greeted with as much affection. He knew that the last argument between the two of you had been bad, but he didn’t know it had left such a distinct impression on you. He didn’t know it had been enough to make you hate him. 
When you pulled away from JJ, you looked between her and Spencer, and then it suddenly struck you. 
If Spencer wasn’t here alone, that meant this wasn’t personal. He wasn’t just here to see you over some lost love, or - maybe he didn’t know about Sebastian at all. You felt a pang of guilt twist your gut because of that. 
“What - what are you guys doing here?” You asked, now entirely confused, directing the question toward JJ. 
JJ looked toward Spencer, and according to his ill-concealed frown, his reunion with you had not gone well. She doubted that you would take the news that you were possibly being hunted by a killer well on top of that. 
“Is it alright if we come inside?” JJ asked, her voice tentative and soft. It was the same voice she usually used with victims and their families. 
“Yeah.” You said, knowing there must be something big that you were missing, and hoping that you would be filled in soon enough. “I’ll put some coffee on.” 
You walked back up the few steps of the porch and breezed right past Reid. You didn’t even spare a glance in his direction as you went back in through the open front door, leaving it open for the two of them with the expectation that they would close it behind themselves. 
“So - I take it things didn’t go well?” JJ whispered to Spencer as she moved up onto the porch. 
“Not quite.” Spencer mumbled in return before moving into the house, waiting for her to follow. 
This made JJ even more curious about what had gone down between you and Spencer all those years ago. 
What could have possibly made you so cold and distant toward him? 
But she couldn’t just come out and ask. They had a job to do. They were there to ensure your safety against a man who had already killed five women and orphaned five children. 
JJ walked into the house and closed the door behind her. She wasn’t surprised that she nearly tripped over a plastic toy truck in the entryway. Even though your son didn’t seem to be here (it was far too quiet for a small boy to be around), this was definitely a house where a child lived. 
The first space that was visible to her eye - the living room, was clearly a space that belonged to a young child. There was a large, colorful play mat underneath the coffee table, and a few toys scattered over across the floor, showing that he clearly liked to have hands on play. In the corner, there was a child-sized desk with a small chair, which seemed to be surrounded by art supplies, and advanced textbooks? Some of them opened and were dotted with bright, colorful stickers. One glance told JJ that the reading material very advanced for his age clearly belonged to him. 
So he very likely was Spencer’s son. 
She wasn’t sure why, but that did bring a cluster of joy through her. Likely because she knew he would be so excited to have a child of his own. 
JJ couldn’t help but to notice that many of the toys were Paw Patrol themed - it was a favorite show of Henry’s, too. In the back of her mind, she wondered if your son and Henry might be friends. 
“Ugh, I’m so sorry.” You huffed, rushing around with your arms half full of toys now - distracted from getting the coffee, as you had mentioned. You were clearly rushing to pick up some of the mess now that you had realized how it appeared in the eyes of your ‘guests’. “All the - stuff.” 
You hesitated to say ‘toys’. Clearly, you didn’t want to bring up the subject of your son, even though the evidence of him was so visible all around. You didn’t want to give Spencer the smallest opening to start asking questions about him. It was something you wanted to avoid speaking about for as long as possible. 
Spencer looked at you with a mournful look on his face as you dodged around him, purposefully avoiding eye contact while you picked up a coloring book and a handful of crayons off the couch. You still refused to look his way at all as you rushed off to stash the items away somewhere. 
Clearly, he wanted to ask you more about your son, and simply ask that penultimate question: was he the father? 
But now wasn’t the right time. 
“It’s alright.” JJ assured you. “You can just come sit down. We really need to talk to you.” 
You heaved out a sigh, defeated in your effort to clean up, and then came back from one of the other rooms. (JJ could only assume you had stashed the toys in a playroom or a closet, because much like her own home, all areas had become a domain for toys and playtime). You motioned for them to sit on the couch, and you scooted over a rocking chair from the other side of the room to sit in front of them, blocking the shut-off TV on the other side. 
“So, what is it?” You asked, clearly eager and curious to know what they were doing in your home - why they had contacted you now after so many years apart. 
JJ and Spencer exchanged a look, and with a gentle nod from him, JJ took the lead. 
“Well, um… there’s no easy way to say this, but we believe that you might be in danger.” She told you, introducing the topic gently, while wanting to be honest and direct. “Perhaps you’ve seen it on the news? But if you haven’t… several single mothers have been killed in the area recently, and we have reason to believe that you might be the killer’s next target.” 
You looked at her, entirely observant, quietly taking in her words. Your face was still and expressionless, and JJ was unsure if you were going to take this calmly and logically - if you were going to panic after you had fully absorbed the news, if you were going to cry. 
After a moment of silence - you burst out laughing. Your laughter was harsh and nervous, a sound that cut through the air like the rip of a chainsaw. Clearly, it was the stark opposite of someone taking the news with tears. 
“Oh my god.” You sighed, taking a breath from the non-humorous laughter. “You know that you didn’t have to make up some excuse just to come and see me, right?” 
Spencer’s face curled into a deep frown. He was upset that you weren’t taking this seriously. JJ found herself in shock. Usually when people found out they were potentially on the radar of a killer, they were paranoid, afraid, questioning why. 
But it was very rare to see denial. 
She did take notice of the fact that you didn’t immediately ask about what kind of evidence or reasoning they had to believe that you were the killer’s next target. Perhaps if your brain let you assess that reasoning for yourself and found it to be valid, then fear would take over. And you couldn’t let that happen. So this laughter, this posturing and not taking things seriously - it was an unconscious way to protect yourself from that fear. 
But JJ could only theorize about that. 
“I did miss you, JJ.” You said, very pointedly looking at her while you said it. “But you could have just sent me an email or something.” 
You continued avoiding Spencer’s harsh gaze as he bored holes into the side of your face with his intense, intrusive eyes. 
“Look, this is serious-” Spencer began, and you cut him off. 
“Okay.” You shrugged. “Let’s say for argument’s sake that there is someone trying to kill me,” 
You spoke of this lightly, the words entirely condescending on your lips, as though Spencer’s theory was entirely wild and imaginative to begin with. 
JJ saw the movement in his jaw as he grinded his teeth out of the corner of her eye, and she was surprised that he let you continue. 
“I have an alarm system that I set every night before I go to bed.” You informed them. “I am a proud gun owner. I have a registered revolver that I keep in a lock box beside my bed and I renew my gun training every single spring.” You told them, not seeming the least bit worried at the idea of a killer hunting you down. “If someone wants to kill me, let them try. I’m sure you guys have much better ways to spend your time than sitting around here, chatting with me when there are people out there, actually in danger. People who probably need your help.” 
You said this, trying to dismiss them. And then you moved to get up from your seat, looking to escape the conversation entirely. But once again, Spencer stopped you. 
“That’s it?” He fired back, entirely indignant, standing from his place on the couch. 
This caused you to roll your eyes and let out a hiss, your lungs deflating like an annoyed balloon as you paused in the middle of the room. 
“Yes, that’s it.” You groaned back. “Look, I know it’s your job to see problems everywhere, but-” 
“It’s my job to protect people.” Spencer replied, cutting you off. “And-” 
“Funny!” You scoffed, your voice escalating in volume. It had turned into a full-blown argument now - you were entirely uncaring that JJ was there to witness it; Spencer was locked in your sight like the crosshairs of a scope, and you were ready to fire. “You give a shit about ‘protecting’ me now, but what the fuck happened four years ago?”
You glared harshly at Spencer, and he locked his jaw, staring right back. It turned into a poisonous silence as neither of you spoke - he didn’t have a good answer for this question. And it made JJ all the more horribly curious about what had happened between the two of you. But she didn’t need to be a psychic to sense that the two of you needed some privacy. 
“Do… do you mind if I go get myself a glass of water?” She asked, tentatively standing up from her place on the couch. 
“I’ll get it.” You huffed out, moving to leave the room. 
“It’s okay.” JJ told you. “I can get it for myself. Just point me in the right direction.” 
You motioned toward the kitchen and JJ left, and she heard Spencer hiss out something about you being stubborn, which turned into another cluster of voices. The argument turned even more personal and sour now that the both of you didn’t have a witness. 
When JJ made her way into the kitchen, she was happy to see that your backyard was full of toys. A pair of sliding glass doors let her peek out to see a colorful swing set and a large playhouse, and a scattering of other toys meant that your son obviously spent a lot of time outside. She smiled to herself, trying to ignore the rising, angered sound of voices from the other room as she found a glass in one of the cabinets. When she moved to the refrigerator’s water dispenser, something along the way caught her eye. 
A vase of fresh flowers was sitting on the counter. 
White carnations. 
It made her stomach churn ominously. It felt too perfect to be a coincidence. 
She abandoned her half-full glass and grabbed the vase, walking back to the living room with it. 
“You just can’t accept help from anybody, can you? How can you not understand that your life is in danger here? This man is not going to stop until-” Spencer ranted on. 
He was still trying to convince you to take the threat seriously - but you were still boiling with rage over the past, blind to anything else. 
“I can’t accept anyone’s help?” You scoffed, crowding into his personal space to hiss the words closer to him. “That is so rich coming from someone who-” 
JJ cleared her throat loudly, cutting you off. 
“Spence.” She got his attention from the intense gaze he was keeping on you - anger hot in his eyes even though he was staring heavily at your lips. 
When Spencer looked over and saw the vase in JJ’s hands, his entire face shifted in a blink. His expression went from tight-knit anger and annoyance to ‘shit-your-pants’ worry. The danger went from being theoretical to being very real in that moment. 
“Where did these flowers come from?” Spencer asked. 
“What?” You gaped, so entirely confused. 
“Where did you get the flowers?” He asked, rephrasing the question, his tone more urgent and demanding now. 
“Why does that matter?” You replied, exasperated. You didn’t see how it was at all relevant. 
“All of the women who were killed received these exact same kind of flowers within days of their death.” JJ told you. “Do you have any idea who sent them?” 
“I thought my mother did.” You shrugged. “There was no name on the card. It just said ‘Happy Birthday’. She didn’t get to see me in person for my birthday, she’s traveling right now. She’s one of the only people who would send me flowers for my birthday.” 
“Yes, but your mother knows that your favorite flowers are lavender and baby’s breath. Why would she send these?” Spencer replied. 
Naturally, he remembered your favorite flowers. 
You couldn’t get stuck on that, though. Instead, you pondered the question he posed. 
Why would your mother send you white carnations without even signing the card? 
It wasn’t something you had thought about. At the time, you had just thought it was considerate, and sweet. When you had called her to thank her for the flowers, you had gotten her voicemail. You had left her a message thanking her. She was away on a singles cruise with shoddy reception and she hadn’t gotten back to you yet. 
“They’re just flowers.” You said, letting out another nervous chuckle - but your voice broke over this one. 
Obviously the reality of things was truly starting to set in with you. 
“We need to set up protective custody for you.” Spencer said, taking out his phone in order to get this done. 
“No!” You snapped. “I am not having some random cops follow me around because you think I might be in danger.” You hissed angrily. 
Spencer paused and stared you down, debating if he was going to go against your wishes or not, his phone still in hand. 
JJ hated the look in Spencer’s eyes. That deep, bitter fear. Whatever had happened between the two of you, there was still enough care lingering there that he would fight for you no matter what. He was terrified for you. He wasn’t going to let you meet the same fate as the other victims. She knew he wasn’t going to let this go. 
JJ put the vase down on the coffee table, and turned to you. 
“It doesn’t have to be random cops. We can stay with you, in order to-” She started to explain, only to be disrupted by the digital ringtone of your home phone echoing through the house. 
You rushed to grab the phone, and JJ heard some of the quiet conversation from you on one end. 
“Yeah, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there soon. It’s no problem. Thank you so much. Yeah, twenty minutes. Bye.” 
You hung up and then rushed back into the living room - and before either of them could speak further on the matter, you rushed past them. You went to the entryway, taking off your slippers to exchange them for sneakers. 
“Look, guys, I would love to stay and hang out, but I have somewhere important to be.” You huffed out. 
“Seriously?” Spencer replied, entirely frustrated with you. “This isn’t some tea party. We aren’t just hanging around here for fun. Call whoever that was and tell them that you’re gonna be late. Or call and cancel, or-” 
“No!” You yelled back, entirely frustrated with him. “Dammit, Spencer! People have responsibilities, you know! I have responsibilities. I am an adult, I’m not some child you can talk down to. Now get the fuck out of my house so I can lock up, and get to the important things that I have to do. Things that don’t involve wasting my time talking to you.” 
You said the last part so snidely, resenting that Spencer’s unexpected visit had been part of your day. 
He opened his mouth to argue against this, but JJ put a gentle hand on his shoulder, nudging him toward the door. He sighed and flexed to this movement. He angrily stormed past you to leave through the front door, which he left wide open like a toddler having a tantrum. 
You grabbed your keys and your purse from a side table near the door and JJ moved to leave as well. On her way along, she put a gentle hand on your shoulder, capturing your attention. 
“We’ll check back in with you later, okay?” She said, using her most gentle, non-confrontational voice. 
“Sure.” You easily agreed, unable to be angry with her. “But just call, or something. There’s no need to bang down my door over some stupid flowers. It’s nothing.” 
She stepped through the door and you followed. As you used your keys to lock up, you added on: 
“I would give you my number, but I’m sure Penelope can find it for you in five minutes flat.” 
JJ chuckled at this. 
“More like two and a half, I’d say.” She replied - it was a joking tone, but she did truly think this highly of Penelope’s skills. 
You smiled over your shoulder at her and she nodded before she began to walk back to the car, where Spencer was already sitting in the passenger’s seat, stewing in his anger. 
When she got in beside him, they watched you pull out of the driveway and drive off before either of them spoke. 
“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips. 
“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply, tired. 
In order to distract himself from all of it, he was staring down at some files in his lap - some of the case files of the other murders that he had pulled out of his bag. He needed something to do to keep his mind from churning more on the fact that you seemed to hate him. He wanted to find a way to protect you now, instead of focusing on the past. 
But JJ seemed hellbent on walking backward - getting him to look back on what happened between the two of you. 
“I can do complicated.” She said. “We’ve got plenty of time. We should just sit here and wait for her to come back.” 
“You should go check in with Hotch.” Spencer told her, dodging around the question once again. “I’ll come back after.” 
“After what?” JJ questioned, finding this wording particularly strange. 
JJ started the car and pulled away, hoping that you would be safe during the time they didn’t have eyes on you. The UnSub had a particular routine - he liked to stalk his victims for a few weeks before he broke into their homes and killed them. So she hoped that he wasn’t ready to make contact with you yet. She hoped that if he did, your gun and your alarm system would be enough to deter him. 
“I - I wanted to get her something nice.” He answered, sounding rather shy about this proclamation. “Like she mentioned, her birthday just passed. And, according to the preschool forms, her son’s birthday was a week ago. I want to get something for him too.” 
“They have the same birthday?” JJ asked. 
“Not exactly the same, but their birthdays are only five days apart.” Spencer replied. “I missed his birth.” He added on, a quiet sigh, entirely melancholic. “I missed the whole pregnancy. I - I missed everything.” 
“You still didn’t answer my question.” JJ reminded him. “What happened?” 
Spencer knew she was asking as a friend. He knew that of all people - she was the one to talk to about this. 
“It - it was right after Hankel.” He admitted quietly. “That was when Y/N and I broke up.” 
“Oh.” JJ said quietly. 
The air in the car became thick as the heaviness truly overtook her. 
So, it was complicated. 
But she definitely couldn’t understand your rage toward Spencer. 
“When I came back from Atlanta, she knew I wasn’t the same. And things - we - we fell apart.” He admitted this barely above a whisper, hesitant to even voice the words as a reality. “You knew what kind of person I was back then. I wasn’t good to her. I wasn’t good to anybody.” 
Spencer let out a harsh chuckle - a defense to all the hurt he was feeling about it. 
JJ spotted a sign for a shopping center, and pulled into the parking lot. She knew that Spencer likely had a good idea about buying into your good graces with a late birthday gift. Even if it wouldn’t instantly make up for everything that had happened all those years ago. 
“Yeah, but you’re sober now.” She reminded him. 
“She doesn’t know that.” Spencer replied. 
JJ ruminated in thought for a moment. 
“You know, I met Will afterwards, right?” She said. 
Out of the corner of her eye, Spencer nodded. 
“It was only a few weeks after everything happened, when we were working that case in New Orleans.” She explained. “And he looked at me like I was a hero. Because I helped him finish what his father couldn’t. He didn’t look at me like I was fragile or broken. He didn’t tip-toe around me. He didn’t see me as some ghost. And that is part of the reason why I fell for him. He always saw me as this goddess. Like Superwoman.” 
Spencer smiled at this. 
He wanted to be that person for you. He wanted to be your Superman. (But he feared that he couldn’t live up to that. That he would fail you when the time came.) 
JJ found a parking spot, and parked, but Spencer lingered - sensing there was more to the conversation. 
“You know… Henry wants a puppy.” JJ’s voice shook, her throat clenching up around these words. 
Spencer’s stomach shook. 
He hadn’t been there, but he had seen the scars on JJ’s arms. He had seen the footage of the other poor woman being torn apart by those dogs. 
“And I had to tell Will everything. How I was chased down, how I had to shoot two innocent animals - the stupid fact that I still feel guilty about it, even though they would have killed me if I hadn’t done it.” She said, her throat becoming more closed off with each word. She cleared it before she spoke again. “How I lost you, how it was all my fault.” 
“What happened to me wasn’t your fault.” Spencer felt the need to say this aloud, reaching over and putting a gentle hand on her knee. She nodded at him before she continued. 
“Just - it was all so overwhelming. The idea of having a dog in our house. But… I told him that I wanted to try, at least. For Henry.” JJ explained. “But when we went to the animal shelter - the sound of dogs barking… I couldn’t stop myself from flinching. And next thing I know, I’m sitting on the curb outside with my head between my knees and Will is putting a bottle of water to my lips.” 
“Henry seems more like a cat person anyway.” Spencer replied, hoping this slightly humorous comment would offer some comfort to his friend. 
JJ let out a tired laugh. 
“He’s three and a half, I think we’re still in the stage where a goldfish is more than enough for him.” She added on. 
“I - I never told Y/N.” Spencer said, suddenly shifting the conversation. JJ raised her brow, prompting further explanation of this. “I never told her what happened to me. What happened with Hankel.” 
JJ gave him a sad look. 
“Why not?” 
“I - I didn’t want her to view me as weak. I couldn’t fight him off. I accepted the drugs. At certain points, I…. I even pitied him.” Spencer replied. “I didn’t want things to change between us. Even though they did anyway.” 
“Do you still wanna be with her?” JJ asked. 
“What?” Spencer gaped, not expecting the question. 
“If the kid is yours, obviously you wanna be in his life. But co-parenting as separate, single people is one thing.” JJ explained herself. “Do you still want to be with Y/N? Do you still love her?” 
“Yes.” Spencer replied shyly. 
“Then you have to tell her everything.” JJ said firmly. “Being with someone for the long term isn’t about creating some fantasy. I fell in love with Will because he looked at me like I was Superwoman, but I stayed in love because he takes care of me when I’m powerless. You have to be weak in front of her and let her take care of you, so that you can be strong everywhere else.” 
Spencer sighed - letting this wisdom fully penetrate him. 
He knew that being a genius sometimes meant that he wasn’t the smartest person in the room. Apparently, this was one of those times. 
“You’re right.” 
Then, he reached for the car door’s handle, feeling like JJ had taught him a lot with that conversation and he needed some time to think alone. 
“You want me to come with you?” JJ asked. “You might need a woman’s opinion on what to get,” 
“No thanks, I know Y/N pretty well.” He replied. “At least I hope I still do.” He opened the door fully and stepped out. “And I wanted some alone time, to… think all of this over. To think about what I’m gonna say to Y/N. I’m gonna walk back afterwards, the house is only a few blocks away.” 
JJ nodded. 
“I should check back in with Hotch.” She noted. “See if they found anything with the other women on the list. Otherwise, all we’ve got is the flowers.” 
Just as he moved to close the door again, JJ spoke up one last time. 
“Rubble.” She said suddenly - which sounded very strange with no context. 
“What?” Spencer asked, ducking his head down to see inside the car to potentially hear her words better. 
“Rubble - it’s a character from the kids’ TV show, Paw Patrol.” She explained. “There was about five action figures of him sitting on the living room floor back there. So I would assume that he’s your son’s favorite character.” 
Spencer’s chest jumped at the way she said ‘your son’ - so casually. 
He could really have a child in his life. This could really be his future. 
If he played his cards right, this could be his future with you. 
“Thank you, JJ.” Spencer grinned at her. 
She smiled back and he stood up to his full height and closed the car door, walking off into the shopping center by himself. 
And of course, his thoughts drifted back to you. 
He thought back to the last time he had spent your birthday with you. Before Hankel, before all the madness. Before everything good in his life slipped through his fingers and he was left feeling so alone. 
… 
For someone with basically no serious relationships under his belt before you came along, Spencer was excellent when it came to romance. 
Perhaps it was because he spent his time reading the classics - he could recite Elizabethan poetry off by heart, he could whisper epic romantic ballads in your ear before kissing you with such intense passion that it left your head spinning. He had such a perfect picture of what romance should be, and it meant that he knew how to plan a date that left you feeling like a queen. 
Every single time he took you out, he made you feel like you were the only woman on earth - like he would move the seas and the sky just to show you how much he cared. 
And because he insisted that your birthday should be a day all about you - a day dedicated to celebrating you - then this was certainly no different. 
The night had been a whirlwind of perfection. 
After dinner at a gorgeous fine dining restaurant downtown, Spencer then drove the two of you to an art gallery to stroll around. He cited that he wanted you to have some down time for your food to settle before he gave you your present. From the spark in his eye, you had a feeling that you knew exactly what that present would be. The whole evening was so utterly beautiful and peaceful. And like everything with Spencer - it was a pleasant enrichment of the mind, looking at art while he told you things about the artists or the origins of the paintings. 
Before you got halfway through the gallery, he checked his watch and told you that it was ‘just about time’ for your present, and then he drove you back to his apartment. 
The two of you barely made it through the door before you had him pinned against it, your mouth enveloping his in a hot, desperate kiss. You were so utterly grateful to have such a romantic, thoughtful man in your life. 
The entire evening had been nothing but a reminder of that - the way he looked at you with love so pure in his eyes. Him opening doors for you, keeping his hand on your lower back to usher you gently around, speaking lowly to you as though his words were precious and only meant to be yours. 
You needed him. You needed to show him how much you appreciated all of it. You needed him to know how much of a treasure he was in your life. 
You reached for his belt and Spencer let out a choked off moan into your mouth. 
You were surprised when he reached for your wrist, gently pulling your touch back - stopping you from unfastening the belt as he pulled his now slightly swollen lips away from your kiss. 
“As - as much as I want to,” He huffed out against your mouth. “I - I still have to give you your present.” He noted, flashing you a smile. 
“I thought this was my present.” You replied, reaching down to grope Spencer’s half hard cock through his pants. 
He let out a groan; but then he reached for your wrist again, pulling your touch back. 
“I - I promise - later - afterwards? Later tonight.” He stuttered out, hard pressed to focus as more blood rushed to his cock. 
Spencer puzzled you. You had never known any other man to interrupt foreplay for something other than sex, unless it was life or death. But it made you very curious about what your present was and why he was so desperate to give it to you. 
And sex was still on the table, so that panging need between your legs would be taken care of eventually. 
You hummed in ascent and stepped back, releasing Spencer from where you had him pressed against the door. He gulped in a large breath of air before he moved across the room. 
You were surprised when he didn’t move to turn on any lights in the apartment, leaving the two of you settled in comfortable darkness. The only lights being the light from the bathroom that he had left on before leaving, shining down the hall, and the dim lighting coming in the windows - some street lights and the occasional passing car’s headlights. 
Spencer shrugged off his blazer and tossed it over the back of the couch on his way toward the window. He yanked up the blinds in front of the space where he had set up a very expensive, advanced, gorgeous telescope - one that had been there the last few times you had visited. Astronomy was one of his many hobbies, and he often invited you to view different stars or passing comets. It was just one of the many things you learned from him - knowledge you absorbed from being around him that made you feel infinitely smarter. 
You always indulged in the joy of feeling smarter just from being in his presence. You loved that Spencer was someone so gifted who loved to share his knowledge, rather than gatekeeping it or being snide toward others who weren’t as privileged as him. It was just another thing to love about him - the fact that he was so kind in sharing his big brain with others. 
You watched him with intrigue while you took your wrap off your shoulders and tossed your purse onto the couch. Enjoying the quiet and the peaceful darkness and watching him work, you moved to sit on the arm of the couch to begin unstrapping your heels. 
He checked his watch again, and then looked to a small side table he had near the telescope. He flipped open a notebook that he had there, and you supposed that the minimal light coming in through the window was enough for him to see whatever it was that he had written there. He adjusted the telescope slightly, then looked at the notebook again, then adjusted the telescope again. 
Then he said ‘aha, there you are’ under his breath, grinning widely to himself. 
The entire thing made your insides glow with curiosity. 
Spencer then turned back to you, still grinning widely. When he noticed your shoe half-hanging off your foot, he stepped over to you and softly grabbed your ankle, sliding your shoe off the entire way before gently rubbing the sole of your foot. 
“Let me help you with that, Princess.” He said quietly, before moving to take the shoe off your other foot. 
Again, your insides tingled as he made you feel like you were the most important woman on earth. 
“Thank you.” You replied, almost speechless at the action. 
“If you’ll step right this way, I can show you your present.” He said, motioning toward the telescope with a dramatic flare. 
You let out a giggle as you stepped over your abandoned shoes and moved to look into the telescope. 
You wondered if he had written some poem and taped it onto the other end of the lens or something like that (it was Spencer, it must have been something epically romantic). But as you bent down and closed one eye to get a good look, it was entirely ordinary. 
The telescope was focused on a single, tiny star. 
It was beautiful, but it was very… plain. And more than anything, it was confusing. 
Your present was… a star? 
“Spencer, I don’t really get it?” You sighed, standing up to your full height once again. 
“I got you a star.” He said proudly, grinning even wider now. 
When you stared at him with more intense confusion, Spencer reached over to the notebook and pulled something out. After he handed it to you, you leaned into the light of the window and studied it carefully. 
It was a certificate stating that Spencer had paid to name the star after you. 
He had literally changed the night sky for you. 
“Oh my god.” You gasped quietly. 
You felt so overwhelmed. 
If he had made you feel like the most important woman in the world before, then now - you felt like the most important woman in the galaxy. 
“Spencer, this is - this is too much.” You said, your throat clenching up slightly due to the intensity of the emotions. 
“No, it’s not.” He said firmly, reaching out and putting a hand on your jaw, tilting your face up from looking at the certificate to look at him. 
There it was again, all of it spelled out in his eyes - the adoration, the pure, overwhelming affection that he felt for you. It bloomed nothing but those same feelings in return from you. It was almost so overwhelming that you felt like you could have exploded from how much love you felt for this man, all of it swelling inside of you so quickly that you felt like your body couldn’t contain it. Like it was a sickness that was going to overrun your body if you weren’t careful. 
“Spencer.” 
His name swelled in your throat like that throbbing love, and you couldn’t help yourself from reaching out and grabbing him by the front of his shirt, pulling him into another kiss. Because of course, words weren’t enough. You smothered him with your mouth, trying desperately to communicate every ounce of passion and gratefulness you were feeling with the heat of that kiss. 
Spencer held you, engulfing both your cheeks with his large, warm hands, kissing you back with just as much intensity. 
Both of you lingered there for a few moments, savoring each other’s lips, mingling in each other’s breath. 
You were disappointed when Spencer pulled away. 
“There is something else.” He told you, a bit of glee edging on his voice. 
“What?” You gaped, shocked by this. 
“There’s something else I have to give you. Another part of your present.” He clarified, pulling back completely - likely in order to fetch this thing. 
You let out a breath. You weren’t sure how this magnificent man could possibly do more. 
You placed the certificate for the star down on the table where Spencer had kept it. Later, you would take it home and have it framed, wanting to display it proudly. You could imagine yourself putting it up in the front of your home when you eventually moved in with Spencer. You could put it next to your marriage certificate; eventually, put next to wedding photos when the two of you eventually got married. (And sometime later, it would be hanging alongside photos of you and Spencer with your kids. You tingled, realizing that this was the first time you had ever thought of having kids with him, but it fit so well. It seemed right.) 
The thought made you tingle. 
You could truly imagine yourself having a life with Spencer. Standing proudly because this was just the beginning of it. He truly felt like ‘the one’ you had always been waiting for. 
“Here.” 
Spencer’s voice pulled you from your plethora of dreamy thoughts, and you turned to see him holding a velvet box. Your heart skipped a beat at the passing thought that it might be the box - but no. Now wasn’t the time. The two of you had only been dating for a year and a half. And while you were so deeply in love, you knew that it was a bit haste to assume that he was ready for marriage when you were his first serious girlfriend. You were still both so young. 
He opened the lid and you let out a small gasp when you saw it. 
It was a simple, elegant silver necklace. The pendant was a four pointed star, with a small, dainty stone in the middle. You easily recognized it as your birthstone, meant to represent the fact that he had given it to you on your birthday. And obviously the star pendant as a whole represented that he had also gifted you a literal star in the sky on that same day. 
“Spencer, it’s so beautiful.” You said, utterly breathless. 
“Traditionally, the four pointed star is believed to represent the designation of a goal. It marks one’s great endeavors, because it seems to point to the four cardinal directions. This star is meant to guide someone, like a map - the way that sailors used the stars to guide their path.” 
Spencer explained, knowledgeable as he always was. 
“I - I chose this for you because… well, because when I met you, I felt as though I had accomplished great things in all areas of my life, except for one. Academically, I was satisfied. In my career, I was happy. But when it came to matters of the heart… I was utterly clueless. And when I found you… it felt like you were my guiding star. Like you were the person I had been waiting for to finally show me - show me the meaning of love.” 
“Oh, Spencer.” Your voice cracked around these words, barely able to form them. “Oh, honey. I love you so much. Thank you.” 
It was all your mind could gather at the moment. It wasn’t the first time you had said it to him, but it was certainly one of the most intense. 
“I love you too.” He replied. Through the dimness, you could almost see tears forming in his eyes. “You truly make me so happy.” 
Spencer then cleared his throat harshly, wanting to clear away his intensely emotional tears. 
“Can - can I put it on you?” He asked shyly, motioning with the necklace in its box. 
“Of course.” You grinned. “I’d love that.” 
You turned around and Spencer took it out of the box, fiddling with the dainty clasp for a moment before he put it around your neck and then did it up for you. It felt so right around your neck. It felt like his love was being carried with you. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t want to take it off anytime soon. You could easily imagine yourself feeling so proud to answer whenever random strangers or your co-workers asked where it was from. 
When it was secured around your neck, Spencer leaned in and laid a gentle, open-mouthed kiss against the chain. This simple act reminded you of that needy throb between your thighs; of what you had been wanting so badly the moment you had come in the door. 
“So…” He whispered against your neck. “What else does the birthday girl want?” 
“I can think of a few things.” 
That was how you ended up with your back pressed against the softness of the couch - too impatient to even make it to the bed - with your dress pushed up around your waist, your panties tossed somewhere in the middle of the living room rug. Spencer’s glasses were pressed up onto his forehead while his knees dug into that same rug, his fingers splayed across your thighs, holding you open to makeway for his tongue. 
He ate you out with all of the intensity and passion that he had kissed you with - moaning into your pussy as though he was singing directly to the gods. 
“Fuck, Spence.” You moaned, raking your hands through his hair, holding him close - not that he would want to pull away for even a second. 
He loved your taste more than anything in the world, and he savored every second that he got the privilege of being on his knees for you. He moaned into your pussy, loudly, almost pathetically - hot echoes coming from his lungs as though he was the one being pleasured. He laved his tongue across you with an open jaw, drinking in as much of you as possible while your thighs quaked around his head. Your nails dug into his scalp and he only moaned harder, loving the sound of your needy whines and your gasping breaths as your clit throbbed under his tongue. 
Spencer hummed in delight while he bounced your clit on his tongue, loving the feeling of that sweet little bead throbbing against him; loving your taste, loving your echoing moans. Loving how much he could bring you pleasure. 
“Fuck, Spence, so close!” 
He put his lips around you and sucked then, holding you gently against him by the hips. He couldn’t help but to enjoy the feeling of your body quaking against his face while your orgasm overtook you. It was overwhelming and beautiful and warmed your whole body - just like the love you felt for him. 
He pulled away after a moment, when he was sure that he had seen you through to the satisfying end, and he grinned against the mound of your pussy. 
“Happy birthday, pretty girl.” 
… 
After the break-up, Spencer often looked up to the sky and thought about you. 
On the nights when your star was in place overhead, he felt a particular pang in his chest. He wondered where you were and what you were doing. He wondered if you were safe. He spent many nights staring out his telescope, wondering if you were happy, blanketed under that inky sky. 
You thought about the star sometimes, too. 
You thought it was a lot like your relationship with Spencer. Placing all of your hopes and dreams onto something already dead - something where the light had died out long ago.
...
Continue reading: Chapter Three - Turn It Off
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mypoisonedvine · 7 months
Text
𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner
note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!
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He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"
He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly.  “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”
But, actually, you sort of did.  You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something.  And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.
You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it.  The two of you had never actually been alone before.
"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"
"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"
"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."
"We, um... I think we broke up?"
"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.
You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.
"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."
"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."
"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."
"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."
"No, but—"
"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."
You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.  
“Poor girl,” he breathed.  “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”
You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.
“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course.  He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”
“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle.  “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be.  And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”
“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb.  “You’re gorgeous.”
You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that.  “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”
“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was.  You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should.  “You’re so beautiful.”
You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say.  He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it.  You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you.  Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.
His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted.  His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.  
Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s.  You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then.  It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way.  Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type.  But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.
You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder.  You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly.  “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”
You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that?  It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good.  Not enough.  You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.
“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck.  You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted.  His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.
“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”
He laughed a little.  “I can,” he admitted.  “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”
That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.
He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife.  You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut.  You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.
He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you.  This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening.  But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.
“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly.  You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him.  It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question.  Which, of course, you did.
He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.  
“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing.  “So needy, huh?”
“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive.  “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze.  “I… I need you.”
“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”
His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.
When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.  
"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."
You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...
"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."
He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."
"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"
"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.
"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"
He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.
The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair.  He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.
“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times.  Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you.  Were you that easy to solve?
Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you.  He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.
He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.
You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.
“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin.  “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”
As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.  
But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.
"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."
Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?
"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."
You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.
"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"
You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...
"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."
He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"
The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was.  It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.
You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things.  “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.”
That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him.  As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.
“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled.  “Do it again.”
This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply.  It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…
Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.  Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap.  Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.
He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.
“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin.  “God, I need to be inside you…”
You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.  
You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”
Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.
You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was.  “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.
"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."
You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.
"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."
You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.
Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go.  “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this.  “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you?  You wanna go even faster.”
Now that he said it: yeah, you did.  You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.
His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response.  “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was.  “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart?  Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”
Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this.  He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.
“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now.  “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long.  We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”
Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight… then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.
“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly.  “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”
You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.
He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans.  “Good fucking girl,” he snarled.  “Good little slut.”
“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster.  “Fuck, I’m close—”
“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck.  “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart.  Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”
Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you.  It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.
When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.
“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.
“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl.  “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”
You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.
“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.
“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”
He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop.  You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you.  With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.  
You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that.  “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.
“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself.  “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”
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midnightcrw · 2 months
Text
Provocative
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Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.
Warnings: Swearing, even though it's only one swear word (this is fluff, by the way)
a/n: Since you all wanted a second part, I finally wrote one, although I really wasn't sure how to continue. I tried my best, and unfortunately, I'm not that happy with it, but hopefully, you all will like it somehow / Part 1
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A headache threatened to make itself known as you looked unimpressed as the King of Hell shook your shoulders, causing you to rock back and forth.
"Did your parents drop you on your head when you were a kid?" Lucifer asked in a desperate tone, not wanting to believe that you and Alastor were a thing (obviously still not knowing that you're married to each other).
"Maybe," you said nonchalantly, ready to push him away if he didn't stop shaking you.
"But-" that's it, you thought as you pushed Lucifer's hands away from your shoulders, surprising him by that before cupping his face in your hand, squeezing his cheeks tightly as he stared at you with wide eyes.
"Listen to me," you began in a stern tone, glaring at him, making him visibly swallow. "You're going to let your daughter show you around, or I'm going to skin you infront of everyone."
With that, you let go of his face as you dusted off your hands, as if you had touched something dirty.
The rest of the residents could only stare with shocked expressions. Fortunately, they hadn't heard what you had said, but from what they had seen, it was definitely intense, as no one would dare do such a thing to the Ruler of Hell.
Though Alastor didn't look shocked, he seemed to be fuming as one of his eyes twitched while the crazed grin never left his face.
"Okay... Anyway, Dad. Look at this lovely parlor where people can get to know each other and share secrets and stories and intimate feelings!" The excitement was vivid in Charlie's tone as she had her beautiful smile on her face.
She was already trying to move on, wanting to make her point to her dad and you appreciated the fact that you weren't in the spotlight anymore.
Thinking that you were finally getting some peace, you sighed in relief before you felt Alastor's head on top of yours.
"Tell me, darling. How long have you known this little pesky, but surely powerful man?" The 'powerful' was emphasized, as the static seemed to get even more grating with his snippy tone.
Alastor was not the jealous type, you knew that. But he always had his moments, loving to meddle in other people's affairs while hiding his own.
Huffing, you turned around and looked up at him, "While you were gone for seven years, I might have befriended him."
The anger was evident in your voice as you did not explain further. Not only had your husband left you for a few years out of nowhere, but now he was suddenly trying to pry information out of you.
Alastor just laughed at your answer and shook his head while your hands clenched into fists.
And before you could curse him, he suddenly moved much closer, almost pressing his forehead against yours. "Surely for nothing of lustful nature," he whispered sharply, sounding almost disgusted as he uttered the word 'lustful'.
"Maybe I should have," two could play this game, and you certainly weren't going to back down now, since he loved to provoke you so much.
Hearing your reply, the static increased as his antlers grew before he suddenly disappeared in front of your eyes, now standing further away from you.
"Charlie has a very unique vision," your husband began as he approached Charlie, speaking very animatedly, "I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests," he said, placing his hand on the blonde's shoulder as she thanked him.
Of course, seeing that didn't make Lucifer happy at all, since he was already planning to kill Alastor when he got the chance.
And to be honest, at this point, you couldn't care less, almost ready to encourage Lucifer.
"Quite an impressive young lady. We're all very proud of her." The man dressed in red knew what he was doing as he pulled Charlie closer.
Somehow, even though he was angry, the short man managed to steer the conversation to another topic, such as getting introduced to the rest of the people in the hotel.
With a smile on her face, Charlie pulled Vaggie near her, "This is Vaggie. She's my girlfriend."
You had probably never seen Lucifer so relieved as a grin made its way across his face, "Oh my golly, you like girls?"
You truly wanted to bang your head against something, knowing that he was going to embarrass himself.
"Yes, so do I. We have so much in common. You put her there, Maggie," he said as he pulled Vaggie into a bone crushing hug, making her a bit uncomfortable with his enthusiasm.
"He didn't even get the name right..." you muttered, rubbing your temple in frustration.
And of course, it wouldn't be Alastor if he didn't continue to annoy you further, "Everything all right, my sweet?"
"Would be much better without you here," you said, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to deal with him right now.
"Is that so?" Alastor whispered in your ear with a toothy grin on his face, looking pleased with himself as you flinched at the sudden closeness.
All you could do was exhale sharply as you stepped away from him, even though he teleported right back into your personal space.
Ignoring him, you just watched the rest of the residents.
"Hello, I clean." Niffty giggled to herself as she grabbed hold of Lucifer's coat, causing him to stare at her with an uncertain expression on his face.
"Don't you dare throw the chandelier to the floor," you whispered, already one step ahead of him.
"Oh, and how well you know me," Alastor said in a delighted voice, and now you wished you hadn't told him that, because it seemed that another plan was brewing in that big head of his.
Without warning, your husband suddenly put an arm around your waist as he walked you closer to the rest of the people.
"You must be proud of Charlie since she has already found people who want to redeem themselves," the grin didn't leave his face as usual as the attention was once again back on you and Alastor.
Lucifer's eye twitched as he looked at you, not liking the fact that the deer was holding his friend so close.
"Sure I am," the short man said as he pulled you out of the radio demon's grip, causing the static to be heard.
"Doesn't seem like it," Alastor said quickly, jumping to the next topic before Lucifer could interject in annoyance, "I even remember the exact moment Charlie needed help, and of course, being the perfect gentleman, I couldn't help but lend a hand." He chuckled to himself as he suddenly grabbed your hand, wanting to pull you to him, but Lucifer didn't let go of your hand, but nonetheless he continued to talk anyway.
"You could almost call me dad," Alastor said with a sinister grin as both men continued to pull on your hand.
"Surely no one would call you that," the King of Hell said with contempt in his voice as he glared at your husband and suddenly turned his eyes to you, "I promise you, you can do better than this. Have you seen his haircut?"
"I see it every day," you muttered.
Charlie didn't seem to be in a better mood than you, as she let herself fall onto the sofa while Vaggie patted her head. And somehow Angel Dust was eating popcorn, even holding the popcorn bag in front of the Princess of Hell as she started to eat some of it while they all watched the three of you.
"In fact, she sees it every day and every night," Alastor added with a crazed look in his eyes as he started to get annoyed.
The look on Lucifer's face was hilarious. One would really like to see his reaction if he knew that Alastor wasn't interested in anything sexual, but just loved to anger people, especially those who didn't pay attention to him.
"Nobody wants to see that atrocity!"
"Well, she loves it!"
"She doesn't!"
And before things could get worse, Husk suddenly said, "Mimzy is here."
With that, your eyes widened as you looked towards the entrance while the men stopped pulling on your hands.
Oh and how you hated her.
"Surely you all missed me!" The voice of the beautiful little woman was heard, clearly directed at your husband.
Fuck no, you thought.
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demonictacobeard · 2 months
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Adam, coming out of his room for the first time:……Alright what the fuck do you guys even do here? Therapy, or some shit
Lucifer who had been waiting for him by the door: Charlie has activities usually, and is more then willing to talk to residents about their feelings and how they ended up in hell so that’s like therapy. I’m surprised you know about that, has heaven finally implemented it?
Adam, grumbling: No Heaven doesn’t fucking have therapy, but for the last ten years the newer winners have been asking why and the older angels had to find out what the fuck it is
Lucifer, humming: I do have to wonder how all the therapists up there don’t fall from utter frustration
Charlie, watching them come down the stairs excitedly: Hi Dad! Hi Adam! I’m so excited you came down. How are you feeling today, do you think you might be up for an activity? Or ooh, I never got to show you around the whole hotel just to your room. Whatever you feel like! Adam, stepping back: I knew she was excited during the meeting but Is she always this fucking cheery? It’s like Emily has a long lost twin from Hell
Angel Dust, from the bar: It’s the new resident joy, you’ll get used to it lambchop!
Husk, snorting: You act like you don’t adore that girl
Angel, pointing at him with three pointer fingers: You, shut up
Lucifer, beaming with pride: She’s very passionate about her work, always has been
Adam, groaning as Charlie looks at him with glimmering eyes: Dear fucking god, shit alright, fine I’ll take the tour
Vaggie, walking up to them with her spear: Good, because todays activity is Alastor’s idea and I don’t trust him not to ‘accidentally’ scar you emotionally instead
Charlie, gasping: Vaggie! Come on, Alastor wouldn’t do that
Lucifer and Vaggie, deadpan: Yes he would
Adam, crossing his arms: I don’t know the fucker, I just beat his ass, but yes the shit he would. Do you see that smile he has going on all the time? I haven’t seen one so fake since Michael’s
Lucifer, gaging: Hech Mike
Adam, nodding: Fucking Mike
Vaggie, vaguely remembering the angel: Do you mean….the Mike who was your bosses boss, the one who came around and inspected the exterminator’s once every ten years. That Mike?
Adam: That’s the bitch, Vag
Vaggie, her cheek twitching in anger: The ARCHANGEL MICHAEL?
Adam: Adding his title doesn’t unmake him a bitch
Lucifer, laughing: Nothing can
Charlie, smacking her head: Awful uncle Mike! Dad told me about him, don’t worry Adam Alastor is nothing like him. The smile is just….a tool for him? It’s harmless
Adam, rolling his eyes: The bartender just looked at you like you lied to gods face and then fucking spat on it, but whatever. I’ll do the activities and shit, later, but only ones you’re in charge of- why does your face look like that?
Charlie singing to Vaggie, after grabbing a confused Adam’s elbow and happily dragging him on the tour: He trusts meeeee!
Adam, flushing: ONLY MORE THEN THAT FUCKING DEER!
Lucifer, following them: Thats still a little, you know
Angel, laughing at Alastor when he walked in ten minutes later: Hey Alastor, guess what sheep boy trusts the devil and the devil’s daughter more then you. How’s that make you feel?
Alastor, his smile becoming more genuine: Positively ‘devastated’
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whorekneecentral · 4 months
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Traditions
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Carlos Sainz Jr x Fem!Reader
Warnings: loose version of spanish new years traditions (might not be accurate, I googled lol), carlos has wandering hands, red underwear means good luck, dirty texts, carlos sr is over his son and his nonsense, you and carlos are on grape prep, kitchen sex, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), hair pulling, 'whore' used in a sexual context, cumplay sorta, ana is over you two as well, midnight kisses.
Word Count: 1,839
Author's Note: sorry for the late upload, it's been a hectic day!
merry smutmas series
--
Coming back from Christmas with your family, the two of you return to Spain to celebrate new years with his family and all their traditions. 
The holidays were a big thing for the Sainz family, both Christmas and New Year's warranted a big party.
It's 8pm on New Year's Eve and you were getting ready for the party that would be starting in an hour. You're in your boyfriend, Carlos's bedroom, sitting at the vanity doing your makeup when he got out of the shower.
You can see Carlos's reflection in the mirror, the white, fluffy towel hanging off of his waist to the beads of water still dripping down his bare chest. "I can feel you staring." He says, walking over to you.
Rolling your eyes, you speak. "Admiring, not staring. I have manners, unlike someone." You teased, watching as his arms snake around you, hands pulling on the bow that kept your robe shut.
"Behave," you scolded him, swatting his hands away. Carlos ignored you. "You look beautiful, mi amor." He whispers in your ear, your cheeks now red and the same colour as your bra that was peeking out.
Seems Carlos noticed the same thing, undoing your robe to confirm what he saw.
"What's this?" He asks, admiring the red lace you were wrapped up in. He seemed a bit confused to see you in the red set, knowing that it was something that you kept solely for when he got good race results.
Your brows furrow, "do you not know? Your sisters say that red underwear brings good luck."
"You don't really believe that," he chuckled, walking off to get dressed. You roll your eyes, "as if you don't. Your mom told me about your Ferrari contract and the red boxers that you keep for special occasions."
Carlos peeks out from his closet, "she told you that ?"
"Of course, do you think we sit in silence when we have lunch?" You laughed, taking the curlers out of your hair.
At some point after that, you two ventured down to the party.
Things were well underway, Carlos's parents entertaining, his sisters with their husbands dancing around with a few friends.
Carlos had separated from you to talk about his racing season with a few of his cousins who had arrived to the party late while you were pulled into a conversation with his father and his colleagues. Your father in law liked to show you off, his arm over your shoulder as he tells all his friends that you were like another daughter to him.
Your phone buzzed in your hand, glancing at it to see who had texted you.
It was your boyfriend, the same man who had been making heart eyes at you all night long.
From Carlos: meet me in my room.
You rolled your eyes, knowing what he wanted but you shot him a quick reply anyways.
To Carlos: what for? can you not see that I'm busy ?
From Carlos: a quickie, what else? I can't take my eyes off of you.
You snorted a laugh, he was ridiculous; he acted like a horny teenager around you, despite the fact that he was 30.
Carlos Sr seemed to notice your little laugh, glancing over at you. "Que pasa cariño?" (what happened dear?)
You decided to give Carlos a mini heart attack, knowing he's looking at you right now. You show your phone to his father, his dad rolling his eyes at his son's behaviour, giving him a disapproving look from across the room.
Carlos Sr takes your phone from you, texting something you don't see until he passes the phone back to you.
To Carlos: ella está ocupada ahora mismo. (she's busy right now.)
Your lips pressed together, biting back a laugh as your father in law led you to the dance floor, his hand in yours as he spun you around. You indulged the man, dancing with him for a bit before passing him over to Blanca for the rest of the song.
Reyes finds you shortly after, her hand in yours as she drags you to Carlos, also grabbing her son by the wrist. The two of you exchanged a glance, a bit confused as to what was going on and unsure if you were in trouble for something. The woman takes you two into the kitchen, there are little bowls lined up on trays as well as 4 massive basins of grapes.
"I forgot to ask the catering staff to put these together, they've left for the evening. Can you two do it?"
Carlos nods, "of course, no problem."
They had a tradition, 12 grapes at midnight was a symbol of the upcoming 12 months and would bring you good luck.
You and Carlos were left to sort out the grapes, putting twelve of them into each bowl; you started lining up the bowls while Carlos was washing the grapes off in the sink.
The two of you split it up, as he dried them and put them back into the basin, you sorted and dropped the 12 grapes into the small bowls.
You were on the last set, Carlos was moving the ones that were done to the table by the door so it'd be easier for the guests to grab.
The man comes up behind you, arms around your waist, lips on your neck. His stubble poking at your skin, kissing it softly. You rolled your eyes.
"What do you want?"
"I can't give my girlfriend a kiss?"
"No," you scoffed, "a kiss is never a kiss with you."
Case in point; Carlos's hands wandered down from your waist to your hips.
"Carlos," you mumble, feeling his fingers meet your bare skin, the hem of your dress moving higher and higher with each passing second. "Don't," you warn him, the man ignoring you.
The grapes long forgotten, your hands gripping at the counter as you feel your boyfriend drop down onto his knees behind you, a trail of sloppy kisses on the back of your thighs.
“Carlos,” you call, “we shouldn't.”
“Don’t you want to?” He asks, fingers dancing along your skin. You let out a breath when you feel his lips on your thigh, soft kisses being peppered across the surface. “Of course I do.” You whispered.
“Then shut up,” he smiles, his head disappearing under the dress.
Your head falls forward against your arms when you feel his tongue on you, he’s yet to move your panties and you're already a mess.
He finally does, smiling to himself when he notices that it’s also red; matching the bra he saw peeking out the top of your robe earlier. “Fuck-” you breathe, fingers still gripping at the marble counters.
He looked up, fixed on you; your hair tossed in every direction and your head tipped back. He can see the necklace you have on, the 55 pendant hanging from it, the same pendant and necklace he gifted you all those years ago for your first Christmas together.
The man gets up, kissing you when he does. You can taste yourself on his lips, Carlos turns you to face him properly and pushes you back against the counter once again, your hand slipping between the two of you as you undo his pants. He pulls your leg to hitch on his hip, your panties already pulled to the side and your dress rolled up at your hips.
Please don’t let there be wrinkles you think, the thought being cut off when Carlos pushes into you. His lips find yours, muffling your moans as he fucks you. Your nails dig into his bicep, his shirt sleeve definitely wrinkled.
“Hold on,” he tells you, pulling out and you whimper at the loss of the fullness. Carlos turns you around and you get what he’s doing, letting you feel a bit more comfortable.
Soon enough, you’re bent over the counter, the last row of grapes discarded off to the side.
His hand is placed on your hip, holding you in place as he pushes into you, picking up the pace again. Your head drops down onto your arms and he didn’t like that. He pulls you up by your hair, your back arches and his arm wrapped around your middle, holding you up.
“You don’t want everyone to hear what a whore you are, do you?” He asks you, his lips against your ear.
You shook your head, knowing if you speak, you’d just be rambling incoherently. “Gonna cum for me, aren't you ? You’re my good girl.” He says.
He feels you clench around him and his hand reaches between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit once again. “Oh my god,” your hips bucked, Carlos' fingers matching the pace of his hips, your body rocking back and forth to get the most out of him.  
“C’mon amor, want you to cum for me.” He says, knowing it won't be long more. 
He watches as your eyes flutter shut and he reaches you with his other hand, holding your jaw and pulling you up a little, your elbows holding up the weight of your body. A few more sloppy thrusts and between that and his fingers, you’re over the edge. 
He kisses you, muffling the noise you were making. 
Without warning, Carlos pulls out of you and pulls you off the counter. You were confused as to what was happening, still in a post orgasm daze. 
The man has you on your knees, looking up at him. 
The dots connect the moment his cock’s pressed to your tongue and he watches as you circle your tongue around the tip. 
“Fuck,” he leans back against the counter, pushing your head down to take all of him in your mouth. His eyes are fixed on you, hand tangled in your hair as you take all of him in your mouth. 
The sight alone was enough to get him to cum and it did. 
You look up at him through your lashes as swallow. 
His hand finds your chin, leaning down to kiss you. “Good girl,” he mumbles against your lips. 
It takes you two a moment to re-situate yourselves, fixing your clothes and hair. You had Carlos wipe the counters down while you washed your hands rather thoroughly before finishing up on the grapes.
There's a knock on the wall, Ana peeking into the kitchen. "Mama wanted to know if you two got lost in here." She joked.
Carlos shook his head, "we were just talking."
Ana eyes your smudged lipstick and her brother's messy hair. "Hm, okay. Help me bring out the grapes?" She asks and you push past Carlos, ignoring his smirk as you helped her carry out the trays and pass out the grapes.
Shortly after, you find Carlos in a corner. You passed him a bowl of grapes and kept the other for yourself as you sat on his lap. One by one, you ate them until all 12 were gone.
The clock struck 12, the fireworks popping outside. "Happy new years, mi amor." Carlos whispered to you, kissing you softly.
Your thumb brushed over his cheek, "happy new years Carlos."
---
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