#and he was experiencing everything like ‘this is how this can feel?’

[mggslover]

Unrequited love

In which reader has been haunted all her life by the ghost of unrequited love, always reminding her of everything she could never have. That is — until she met Spencer.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader Genre: angst x fluff x smut (18+) Content warnings: spoilers for s8e12, very angsty but no worries there's a happy ending Word count: 5,4k A/n: for anyone who can relate to not having their love reciprocated, I'm hoping you'll find your spencer reid soon

It’s stupid, really, to love someone so wholeheartedly. It’s even more stupid to expect them to love you back.

Never in your life had anyone reciprocated your love — hell, no one had even accepted it. Unrequited love was a burden that has clung to you all your life, a thread of rejection woven through the fabric of your earliest memories. 

You remember the moment clearly, when as a little girl you found your mother hunched over the dining room table, furiously wiping away tears she did not want you to see. You watched from afar, making sure she left the room when you tiptoed to the table, finding a piece of paper ripped out of a notebook. Your small finger traced the letters of the handwritten note. The words were jagged, some unfamiliar, making you skip them. You experienced a rush of pride and excitement when you could make out some words: leaving, sorry, woman, goodbye. It was the first time you’d read something that wasn’t written in the large colorful books Miss Abigail assigned in school. It wasn’t until a few days later, when your mother explained that your father wasn’t coming back, that the weight of the note fully sank in. From that moment on it felt like your fate was sealed. 

In middle school you had some friends, but when the moment came to pairing up for school trips, it was you being the one left out. You always had someone you would call your best friend, but you’d never be theirs. Someone always seemed to be better, more lovable, more wanted. 

In highschool, you got your first boyfriend, Timmy. You weren’t sure you loved him, but you wanted to be seen, to be noticed. So when he asked you out, you said yes. For a while, you reveled in the feeling of someone showing you off. That was until the day you overheard his friends, talking by the lockers.

“I swear, his tactic is working!” one of them said. “Jessica dumped James the second she saw Timmy walking hand in hand with Y/N through the hallways.” 

“Oh shit, man,” another friend laughed. “If I knew that, I also would’ve used a fake girlfriend to get to Hannah.” 

A fake girlfriend. The words echoed in your mind as you started to make sense of the situation. It suddenly clicked how Timmy only showed you off in public, only kissed you in the busy hallways, where people could see. It was never about you.

You decided to give love one more chance in university, but when a night that was supposed to be the first of many, ended in a one-night-stand and a “I’m sorry, but I don’t really see you that way”, you made yourself a vow: no more chasing love. You stopped giving your love to people who would never truly appreciate it, and instead, you gave that love to yourself. The library became your refuge, spending endless hours studying to give yourself the future you deserve. You passed your exams with flying colors and never forgot to reward yourself after every small victory. And when you landed a position at the BAU, making it as an FBI agent, you knew you made the right decision to never fall in love again. That was until you stepped into the office, and you saw him. Spencer Reid. 

—

“And this is doctor Spencer Reid,” your boss Hotchner introduced him with a nod. 

He was tall, awkward in the way only someone who was brilliant could be, but he smiled warmly as he waved a hand at you. “Hi.”

You smiled back and stuck out your hand instinctively. “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

He blinked at the gesture, looking uncomfortable. He swallowed, his voice uncertain. “It’s nothing personal, I just don’t like shaking hands.”

You tilted your head and laughed. “That’s totally fair. Do you know how many germs your hands carry?”

His eyes widened in surprise, as if no one had ever said that before. “I-I actually do! The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to-”

“Kiss?” you interrupted, a grin spreading across your face.

The words came out simultaneously, and you both laughed. A sound that felt... easy. Like something you hadn’t experienced before.

Someone you would later come to know as Morgan, who had been leaning against a desk, looked up at the two of you, eyebrows raised in disbelief as he shook his head. 

It was then you realized — there was something special about Spencer Reid. It was something unspoken, something more than just the intellectual connection. Before you even knew it, you had fallen in love.

—

You never confessed your feelings to Spencer, but you felt like there was an unspoken understanding between you. Every morning, you arrived at work with an oversweetened cup of coffee for him, and in return, he made sure you never went without your favorite sandwich from the shop around the corner, especially on days when you were too absorbed in a case to remember to eat. On your days off, you took each other on trips. Sometimes to a museum where you would explain the art in great detail, and he would pretend not to know any of the facts, just to hear you talk. Other times, you’d go to a movie screening, where he would simultaneously whisper translations of the foreign dialogue to you, making you giggle when his breath tickled your ear. You convinced yourself that this was what love was: understanding someone to the point of not needing words.

But how foolish were you to have forgotten about the shadow that lingered behind you, always ready to remind you of everything you could never have.

—

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N! Have you heard the news?” Penelope squealed in delight as she rushed toward you, the rhythmic click of her heels making a melody against the office floor. 

You glanced up from your desk, raising an eyebrow. “Based on the excitement, I’m going to assume you're not talking about the wildfires in California.”

“Oh no, no,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m talking about big news. The juicy kind.”

You chuckled, leaning back in your chair as you sipped your tea. “Alright Pen, bring it on.”

Penelope’s grin widened. “Spencer has a girlfriend!” She yelped, hands flying to her mouth as she realized just how loud she’s gotten.

You blink as you try to process her words. “He finally adopted a cat?” 

Penelope shook her head vigorously. “Y/N, I mean a real girlfriend. An actual human being girlfriend!”

You scrunch your forehead, the words not quite connecting. “I don’t think I understand.”

Penelope leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Derek told me that Blake told him that Spencer’s been making calls... to a woman.” She glances around quickly, making sure no one can overhear. 

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your smile drops at the familiarity of the situation. Spencer had been leaving the bullpen often recently. You’d always assumed it was because he was still struggling with his headaches and didn’t want the team to get worried. Not in a million years would you have expected Spencer was seeing someone.

Penelope continues speaking, but her words fade into the background as your thoughts spiral. “Excuse me,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper as you push yourself out of your chair and rush to the bathroom.

Once inside, you lock the door behind you. Your chest tightens, the familiar weight of a panic attack settling in as if it had never left. Your breath comes short and shallow, the room spinning slightly as you grip the sink. The air feels thick, suffocating even. For the first time in years you find yourself back in this situation, fighting to breathe.

—

After a while, the whispers and giggles about Reid's love affair had died down. Still, it took Spencer some time to feel comfortable enough to share more about her — Maeve Donovan, the brilliant, lovely woman who had stolen his heart. As his best friend, you were the one he turned to, the one who had to endure all the little details of their intimate phone calls.

And you tried, you really did. You tried to be the supportive friend, even when each word about Maeve felt like a thorn in your chest. You’d joke, asking him if he was sure Maeve wasn’t some sixty-year-old man catfishing him, or teasing him about how it didn’t count as a relationship if you’d never actually met the person. The snark was the only way you could cope with the sinking feeling every time he smiled when her name came up, the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of her. But Spencer was oblivious to your remarks. No matter how hard you tried to plant seeds of doubt in his mind, it never seemed to have any effect.

It was a sad thing to admit, but on nights when anxiety kept you awake, you couldn’t help but wish for their relationship to end. You prayed for a chance to tell Spencer how you really felt. You convinced yourself there would be time, that everything was going well, and eventually you’d find the courage to speak up. But on nights like these, you deeply regret never having thought of the possibility of another girl realizing how incredible Spencer is, and making a move before you ever could. 

Those feelings of jealousy turned into big regret, when Spencer came bursting into the bullpen, panic and fear evident in his eyes. He was frantic, certain that Maeve had been kidnapped. His suspicions turned out to be tragically true, and your world crumbled the moment the gunshot rang out, taking Maeve from him. Your heart shattered into a thousand pieces as Spencer broke down in front of you, and you couldn’t even reach out to comfort him, believing it was you who caused this. That the ghost you knew as unrequited love, finally gave you what you wished for. 

You wanted to scream, to turn back time, to take back every selfish thought. But now wasn’t the time for regret. When Spencer locked himself in his apartment, unwilling to speak to anyone, you made it your mission to be there for him. You were the only person he let in, and when the door creaked open, you were struck by the sight of him — pale, hollow-eyed, and worn down in a way you’d never seen before. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight embrace. The two of you cried together, until his neighbor shouted at you both for the noise. From that moment on, you’d take Spencer to your apartment. Making sure he had a warm, homemade meal waiting for him as you’d binge Doctor Who episodes, trying to get him to smile even just a little. Slowly, he began to open up, the weight of his grief pouring out in quiet conversations. And you made sure you listened to every word as you held him close, offering whatever comfort you could.

As the weeks passed by, the weight of the situation was becoming overwhelming. It wasn’t easy hearing the love of your life talk about another woman. The way he spoke about her, like she meant more to him after just a couple of months than you ever did in all the years you stood by his side. It was almost too much to bear. When you overheard a moment between Reid and JJ, where Spencer mentioned how he would’ve had kids if it weren’t for Maeve dying, you realized you couldn’t keep going like this. You needed time to process what you were feeling, to grieve what you’d lost — even if it wasn’t really yours to begin with. So, you called in sick for the next case. Hoping you could clear your mind, while the team was out of state.

—

So here you were, experiencing heartbreak like all those times before — rotting on the couch with a pint of ice cream as you watched reruns of Love Island. 

You jumped when a loud banging echoed from the front door. Your surprise faded as quickly as it came, knowing there was only one person that would bother you this late an hour. 

“Y/N, I know you’re in there. Open up!” Spencer’s voice rang out, firm and insistent.

With a sigh, you shuffled to the front door, trying to steady yourself before facing him. The moment you opened the door, you were met with Spencer, brows furrowed in concern and annoyance.

“Where were you? You didn’t show up on the jet, and you’re never late,” he said, brushing past you to step inside.

“Sure, let yourself in,” you muttered under your breath, closing the door behind him. “I wasn’t feeling well, had a headache,” you replied, keeping your tone casual.

Spencer paused, taking a quick glance around the room. His eyes landed on the TV blaring in the background and the half-empty pint of ice cream on the coffee table. He turned back to you, eyebrows raised.

“Your TV is on full blast, and you’re eating ice cream,” he said, his tone skeptical, clearly aware of your lie.

You sighed, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, I just needed a break.” 

“A break?” He scoffed. “You never take breaks. We practically had to force you to stay home when you got shot. You’re always there, no matter what. I needed you, and you weren’t there.”

As much as you appreciated hearing that he needed you, this wasn’t the time to feel flattered by it. “Spencer, I know,” you started, your voice taut with frustration. “I just had my own things to worry about.”

“What things?” He stepped closer, his tone rising. “What could be more important than your work? Then being there for a friend when he needs you?” It was obvious how upset he was. “I was worried about you,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly. “I called you every day, and you didn’t pick up.”

His words hit harder than you expected, and a bitter laugh escaped before you could stop it. “What about me, Spencer?” you snapped. “Have you ever thought about me needing a break? Or am I not important enough for that?”

“Oh, please.” His voice dripped with disbelief. “You’ve always been there for me, but suddenly you can’t pick up your phone because you need time for yourself?”

“God, you’re such an ass,” you shot back, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

“Me? I’m the ass?” His voice pitched higher, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“Yes, Spencer! I told you I wasn’t feeling good. I needed time off.”

“You could’ve just picked up the damn phone!” he yelled, his voice cracking with emotion. “Do you even realize how worried I was?”

“It sounds like you were more worried about yourself than me,” you countered, your tone icy.

His face twisted in frustration, but then his shoulders sagged. “Is that what you think?” He asked quietly, his voice trembling. “I was worried about you. Can you even imagine what it was like for me to call and get no answer?”

You swallowed. For a split second your mind drifted to Maeve, thinking that he might’ve felt the same fear as when she didn’t pick up the phone. You quickly put the thought away, he didn’t care about you like that.

“If you’d just asked Hotch, you would’ve gotten an answer right away,” you said defensively, crossing your arms to shield yourself.

“Oh, so Hotch knew?” His tone turned bitter, his eyes narrowing.

“Of course, Spencer. He’s my boss!”

“And I am your friend! I always tell you everything before I let anyone else know.”

You rolled your eyes, frustration taking over. “Well, that’s on you. Just because you feel the need to bother everyone with your problems doesn’t mean I have to do the same.”

The instant regret was written all over your face as the words left your mouth. Spencer’s expression shifted, looking completely stunned.

“Spencer, I didn’t mean-”

But the damage was done. His shoulders stiffened, his jaw tightening as he looked away.

“Please, Spence, I swear I didn’t mean it like that,” you said softly, your voice trembling as you reached out to him, but he instinctively stepped back.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry,” you pleaded, your voice cracking. “I don’t know why I said that.”

He shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Oh, but you said it. And you meant it.” His voice was quieter now, but somehow it felt heavier. The anger in his eyes had faded, replaced with something worse: disappointment.

“Spencer,” you whispered, the sound barely audible, terrified to say anything else that could upset him.

He looked down, his shoulders sagging as he exhaled shakily. When he finally looked back at you, his expression had softened slightly, though the hurt still lingered in his eyes. “Do you really think I’m someone who bothers people with my problems?” he asked, his voice raw with vulnerability.

“No!” you said quickly, the desperation clear in your tone. “I don’t know why I said that. I don’t think that at all. I’m so glad you opened up to me and trusted me with your feelings.”

“And yet…” he trailed off, rubbing his temples in frustration. “You ignored my calls. You avoided me. And then you said that. Jesus.” His hands fell to his sides as he let out a tired sigh, his exhaustion etched into every feature.

��Spencer,” you started, but he interrupted. “I don’t understand,” he said, looking at you like he was searching for answers he couldn’t find. “If you’re glad I talk to you about my feelings, why did you shut me out?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his question bearing down on you. “It’s just… a lot to handle, Spence,” you admitted. “I’m not a therapist. I don’t know how to deal with these feelings. I want to be there for you, I really do, but it takes a toll on me too.”

“It takes a toll on you too?” His voice rose, and you cursed yourself for triggering another outburst without meaning to. “I’m the one with ‘the problem’. I’m the one with the dead girlfriend! All you had to do was be there for me when I needed you.”

You exhaled heavily. “I’m getting a drink,” you muttered as you made your way over to the kitchen. Spencer followed behind you, not willing to give up yet.

“Of course,” Spencer said, with a sarcastic edge. “Grab a drink. That’ll fix everything.”

Ignoring him, you grabbed a glass and poured a generous amount of whiskey. You raised it to your lips, savoring the burn as you swallowed.

He crossed his arms, watching you with a raised eyebrow. “You know what? Go ahead. Keep ignoring the problem. That’s what you’re good at, right? Avoiding things.” He said, his tone filled with hurt. 

Your hand trembled slightly as you set the glass down. “I know you don’t believe me,” you said, voice shaking, “but I am trying.”

“Trying?” Spencer’s laugh was humorless. “You didn’t even call me. You just disappeared. I needed you, and you left. What kind of ‘trying’ is that?”

“God, Spencer, I didn’t want to avoid you. I wanted to pick up the phone, to explain everything, but I couldn’t. I knew I’d just hurt you more, and I couldn’t-” Your voice broke against your will. “I couldn’t risk ruining all the progress you’ve made.”

Spencer’s expression softened, his furrowed brow easing as confusion replaced his anger. “You’re not protecting me by keeping whatever it is that’s bothering you to yourself. You’re hurting me even more by shutting me out. I want to be able to help you when you’re struggling, Y/N.”

Your throat tightened, tears threatening to spill. You bit your lip, trying to hold your words in.

“Please,” he whispered, his hand gently taking yours. “Let me in. Let me help you like you’ve helped me.” 

You stared at him, your chest aching. How could you possibly tell him? How could you burden him with this truth when he was already carrying so much? But the way he looked at you, so desperate — it broke something inside you.

The words escaped before you could stop them. “I’m in love with you.”

Spencer froze, his heart skipping a beat as he loosened his grip on your hand, making you regret speaking up.

“You.. you’re in love with me?” He asked, his voice a mix of surprise and disbelief.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, guilt twisting in your chest.

He stared at you in silence, his gaze unreadable as he processed your words. After a long pause, he spoke up. “You’re sorry?”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you nodded. “I’m an awful friend,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“No, no, no,” Spencer said quickly, stepping closer. His heart ached as he reached up to gently cup your face, brushing away your tears with his thumbs, hating to see you cry. “You are not an awful friend — you’re wonderful.”

“Don’t say that,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m not wonderful, Spencer. I listened to you grieve every night, and still I felt jealous because she got your love, even if it was just for a second.”

His eyes widened. “Jealous?” he asked softly. “You were jealous of Maeve?”

You cringed at his words, shame tightening your chest. “I know, it’s disgusting. I get it if you never want to see me again.”

“Is that what you think? That I’d stop wanting to see you?” He shook his head. “How can you think I’d judge you for having feelings for me?”

“Because I blame myself, Spencer!” you cried. “I should’ve been happy for you, but I wasn’t. And now she’s gone, and I feel like it’s my fault.”

He closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight embrace. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for any of that. You didn’t make any of those things happen,” he reassured. “They were just… they were just an unfortunate turn of events. You didn’t have any control over it.” He held you tightly against him, trying to comfort you as his heart ached. 

“You shouldn’t touch me,” you sniffled, but you weren’t able to pull yourself away, needing his touch.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your face up to meet his eyes. “I should touch you,” he said firmly. “I should hold you, and comfort you, and be there for you. Because that’s what friends do. That’s what I want to do.”

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice quivering with emotion. “I did feel jealous, but please, don’t think for a second that I didn’t care. I’d do anything to bring her back.”

“I know you care,” he murmured into your hair. “I know you do. That’s why I could never think of you as a bad friend.”

You cried against his chest, the weight of everything finally crashing down. His arms tightened around you, his hold warm and grounding. “It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve got you.”

You shook your head. “You shouldn’t be the one comforting me.”

“Yes, I should,” he said. His arms didn’t loosen, holding you as if he feared you’d vanish if he let go. “Your feelings matter. Your happiness matters. I don’t want you putting yourself aside for my sake.”

Something in his tone gave you the courage to lift your gaze. His eyes met yours, searching, filled with an emotion you hadn’t dared to hope for. Slowly, he reached out, his thumb brushing against your tear-streaked cheek with a gentleness that made your chest ache. 

“I mean it,” he said, his voice firm. “You matter to me, more than you probably realize.”

You leaned into his touch instinctively, the warmth of his hand calming you. “You can still talk to me,” you said quietly. “I just… I needed a break. But we can still have our talks.”

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I know. And I’ll take you up on that.” 

His hand remained on your face as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. “I care about you. I always have, and I always will.”

The proximity was impossible to ignore as his thumb traced slow, soft circles on your cheek, his eyes locked on yours. “I’m sorry,” he began, his voice quiet and pained, “for not realizing sooner how you felt about me.”

“It’s fine, Spence,” you replied, lifting your shoulders. “I should’ve been more obvious.”

He let out a quiet sigh, his heart heavy with remorse. “You were, I should’ve known. Penelope and JJ never treated me the way you did.” He admitted. “I wasted so much time. I could have had you, but I was too blind to see it.”

“You… you would want to be with me?” you asked, surprise noticeable in your voice.

His eyes softened, his expression filled with disbelief. “Of course I would. How could I not? You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re caring, you’re beautiful...” His voice dropped to a tender hum. “You’re everything.” 

You looked away, as doubt crept in. “You’re just confused,” you said. “I gave you a lot to process all at once.”

“I’m not confused,” he said steadily, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not about this. I know how I feel. I know that it’s you that I want.”

Your heart ached at how convincing he sounded, but you couldn’t stop your uncertainty. “You’re not over her, Spence.”

The mention of Maeve made him swallow, his gaze flicked downward for a moment. “I know,” he said quietly, as he looked up at you. “I know I’m not completely over her. I may never be. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Tears welled in your eyes. “It doesn’t feel fair,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve wanted you for so long. It doesn’t feel fair that I get to have you now.”

Spencer gently pulled you closer, the simple comfort of having you in his arms overwhelming. “You deserve everything, Y/N. You’ve been there for me through everything. You’re one of the most selfless, most loyal, most caring people I know.” 

The warmth in his gaze, the tenderness in his touch, made it impossible to look away.

“I need you,” he said, his voice a raw confession. “Not talking to you these past days was torture. I can’t do this without you. I need you in my life, Y/N. Not just as a friend.” He paused, his voice softening. “You deserve to be loved, please let me be the one to do that.”

You felt your breath catch, not finding the words to express how you’re feeling. “Can I kiss you?”

His lips parted in surprise, but his eyes softened, filling with an emotion that made your chest ache. He nodded, “Yes. Please.”

His hands were warm against your cheeks as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was everything — urgent, raw, and filled with years of unspoken longing. A soft, desperate sound escaped your throat, conveying all the need you’d kept bottled up for so long. Spencer seemed to feel it, deepening the kiss as his fingers threaded into your hair, afraid you might slip away.

He effortlessly lifted you onto the kitchen counter, his body fitting perfectly between your legs as you wrapped them tightly around his waist. The closeness wasn’t enough to satisfy your need. Your fingers found his tie, fumbling to loosen it before letting it fall to the floor.

As you moved to the buttons of his shirt, Spencer groaned softly against your lips, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. The moment your hands met his bare skin, his breath hitched, and his grip on your hips tightened. The heat of his body was intoxicating, and every inch of him seemed to respond to your touch.

“God, Y/N…” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and filled with desire. His forehead rested briefly against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath. But his hands never stopped, sliding down your sides and pulling you even closer.

You continued your exploration, your fingertips tracing the planes of his chest and shoulders as if trying to memorize him. 

You’d always imagined taking your time when this moment finally came — savoring every touch, every kiss. But now that it was happening, you couldn’t stop the rush coursing through you. The need to feel him everywhere, to prove that this was real.

“Spencer, please,” you whimpered against his mouth, your voice filled with desperation.

“I know, sweet girl,” he murmured, knowing exactly what you needed. His hands slid down to your thighs, gently parting them to make room for himself. The warmth of his touch had you gasping, and you let out a quiet cry of relief as his fingers moved to his belt, the soft clink of the buckle filling the air.

You didn’t want to waste any time, tugging your pants down your legs in a frenzy, eager to meet him halfway. Spencer’s gaze flickered to yours, his eyes dark with need, and in an instant, his mouth was on yours again.

His kiss was hungry, consuming. One hand gripped your waist, holding himself steady, while the other hooked beneath your leg, lifting it effortlessly to pull you closer. The heat between you is overwhelming, every touch igniting yet another spark. 

You threw your head back as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your wet folds. A soft gasp escaped your lips, your mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as he slowly pushed into you, the stretch intoxicating. Your fingers gripped his back as you sunk your nails into his skin.

The sharp bite of pain drew a low, guttural groan from him, his face buried in the curve of your neck. His breath was hot against you as he murmured your name like a prayer.

“I wish we’d done this sooner,” you gasped, as he began to move, his hips rolling into yours. 

His breath hitched at your words, and he pressed a soft kiss to your jawline. “I know, baby,” he mumbled. “We’ll make up for it,”

A soft giggle escaped you, but it was quickly swallowed by a moan as his pace quickened. 

“Oh, Spence… I’m already close,” you confessed, never having reached an orgasm this fast.

“Thank God,” he groaned, his voice rough with desperation, as his grip on your hips tightened. He guided you to meet his thrusts, the intensity of his movements growing erratic, overwhelmed by pleasure. 

Unable to resist, you cupped his face, pulling him into an open-mouthed kiss as you moaned and gasped for breath. 

Your walls clenched around him, drawing a string of desperate whimpers from your lips as your head fell back. Spencer took full advantage of your exposed neck, sucking and biting on the skin, claiming you. His thrusts grew deeper, determined to hit the spot that made you cry out in pleasure.

His low, breathy moans filled the air, and you could tell he was close. Your legs began to shake around him, and as if perfectly in sync, your release crashed over you just as he shuddered and spilled into you.

“I love you,” you gasped, the words leaving your lips over and over as your orgasm rushed through you. Tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision. You couldn’t tell if it was the sheer intensity of the feeling or the flood of emotions you’d been bottling up for so long, but what you did know is that you meant every word.

Spencer stayed close, his breaths uneven as he gently rocked into you, drawing out the shared high. Slowly, he pulled back just enough to brush your hair out of your tear-streaked face. His eyes locked onto yours, and it felt like he truly saw you — every part of you.

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you too.”

[riboism]

tear you apart

》 mob boss! p.sh x fem. ballerina! reader

》 wc: 3.3k

》 plot: a powerful mob boss becomes dangerously distracted by a captivating ballerina, leading him to abandon an important business deal because of his new obsession. Determined to regain his focus, he confronts her one night after a show, only to find himself even deeper entangled in his desire—and a conflict that could jeopardize everything.

》 content: swan lake ballet, ballerina!reader, mob boss! seonghwa, dom! seonghwa, gloved finger-fucking?? eventual smut

🎧 tear you apart- she wants revenge, sour switchblade- elita, into the woods- bragolin

It was now the final act of the show. Rothbart was defeated, his dark powers broken, and the swan maidens were free at last. In the soft glow of the stage, you and Siegfried danced together, your movements light and delicate, like drifting feathers. Each step felt weightless as you floated through the scene, surrounded by the gentle swell of the orchestra and the dreamy, pearlescent backdrop that bathed everything in a soft, otherworldly light. This was the most serene moment of the entire performance—yet your heart raced wildly in your chest.

Throughout the entire show, a sense of unease gripped you, following your every movement on stage. No matter where you turned or what role you played, you felt his eyes on you, that same piercing, unrelenting gaze that had been following you all season. 

Park Seonghwa always sat in the same seat, just a little off-center in the orchestra, ensuring he had the best view of you. Like clockwork, he was here every Saturday night, with his hair slicked back with precision, dressed in a long, black coat that skimmed the floor, and his leather-gloved hands resting motionless on his knees. His eyes followed you all over the stage, studying your every move, every tweak of your brow, his plump lips parted in fascination. His unblinking, stone-cold expression sent shivers down your spine, and yet, you couldn’t deny the intrigue it sparked in you. His observance of you, so focused and ceaseless, made you feel powerful—seen. As if, in his eyes, you were the only ballerina on that stage, the rest of the world fading into irrelevance. You almost looked forward to seeing him in the audience every night, that is, until some whisperings from the other ballerinas during dress rehearsal rattled you. 

"A mobster? Really? I thought those only existed in Scorsese movies," one ballerina laughed softly, her eyes darting nervously to the corner where he sometimes lingered after performances.

"It's true!" another whispered eagerly. "He's part of the Park crime family. Remember when they started cracking down on drug trafficking? Then they suddenly dropped all charges. I heard he paid off half the force. And now—well, I hear he’s eyeing the theater as a front for money laundering."

There was more truth to their rumors than they realized. After his father’s sudden departure, Seonghwa had inherited the mantle, becoming the head of the Park family business—a role he’d taken on with cold, unerring resolve. He was trusted to be the new, pragmatic decision-maker, one who wold keep the family business running smoothly. Everything had been going according to plan, right down to choosing an old, run-down theater on the outskirts of town as his next investment. 

It was a simple acquisition, one that should have been handled quickly. But one evening, he found himself sitting in the darkened theater, watching intently as you stepped onto the stage in your pearly white tutu, your sculpted legs covered in thick stockings, twirling on your experienced tippy toes, forcing him to wonder how you can move so gracefully while doing something that seemed so painful. 

Seonghwa never thought much of performance art; it simply wasn’t his world. His world was dark, brutal, and unforgiving. But from the first graceful movement, and the beautiful melody from the live orchestra, he was captivated with the world of the Swan Lake. You moved with such elegance and emotion that he couldn’t look away, each gesture leaving him more entranced than the last. From that night on, he returned every evening you performed, ignoring his obligations just to see you dance. He became infatuated with the beauty and artistry he hadn’t known could exist. 

The original plan was simple: aquire the theater, reshape it into something profitable, and then use the profits to conceal earnings. But now, the thought of disrupting your world was unbearable. Reluctantly, he abandoned the deal, his priorities now twisted by an enchantment he resented. 

From that very first performance, you unknowingly unraveled the careful fabric of his plans. Seonghwa found himself slipping away from his duties week after week, drawn back to that same old theater. His associates began to worry, questioning his judgement, but he couldn’t help it. He told himself it was just a curiosity or distraction—anything but the truth. You had enchanted him, woven yourself into his thoughts so deeply that he couldn’t bring himself to go through with the acquisition. Every time he saw you, he was reminded of what he stood to lose.

His associates were quick to notice his shift, whispering about his lack of judgment and uncharacteristic indecision. They urged him to reconsider, to stay grounded—but he felt himself slipping. Trouble was on the horizon; he could sense it. Part of him loathed you for the hold you had over him, for making him slack off from his responsibilities. Yet, night after night, he was drawn back, helpless against the spell you’d cast, unable to break free, and unwilling to let go.

Seonghwa knew he couldn’t keep living like this. His soul was burning hopelessly, and he needed to put out this fire fast. 

—

It was quiet now, the theater emptying as the final notes of the orchestra still seemed to hang faintly in the air. You slipped into your dressing room, exhausted yet exhilarated, the glow of the performance still warming you as you changed out of your costume. Carefully, you removed your stage makeup, wiping away the traces of the Swan Queen. The transformation always felt strange, trading feathers and grace for the ordinary routine of going home.

You packed your things slowly, placing each item into your bag with a practiced rhythm, already looking forward to the calm of your apartment. But as you reached for your coat, a prickle of unease returned. It was that lingering feeling, the sensation of being watched, that had haunted you all night.

The silence shattered with a sudden, firm knock on the door, catching you off guard. Your heart raced, and before you could even gather yourself to respond, the door creaked open, slow and deliberate. His face appeared in the dim light, and you caught your breath. It was him.

Seonghwa stepped in just enough for his figure to fill the doorway, his familiar dark coat draping around him like a shadow. His expression was unreadable, the same cold, composed look he always wore, yet his eyes held a strange intensity that made you feel hot.

Your heart pounded as he stood there, with his gaze fixed intently on you. You felt a flicker of fear—a quiet, instinctive warning. Everything about him radiated power, a kind of quiet danger that you couldn’t ignore. Yet, having him so close to you now felt exhilarating, almost like you were waiting for him to knock on your door. 

“I hope I’m not intruding,” He apologized, his sharp features now softening in your presence, hoping to disarm you. 

“I’m sorry, c-can I help you with something?”

He paced around your small dressing room, his eyes lingering on the little details—your stage makeup scattered across the vanity, the photo frames of other ballerinas lining the walls. Anxiety twisted in your stomach as you watched him, still unsure of why he was here. Then, he turned to you with an unreadable expression, extending his gloved hand. "I just wanted to introduce myself properly," he said, his voice smooth but distant, “Park Seonghwa. I’m from a private equity firm. I know the owner, Hongjoong.” Shakily, you reached out your hand, the leather of his glove feeling cold and unnatural against your skin. You suppressed a shiver as his grip lingered just a second longer than you expected.

“I’m Y/N.” 

"Y/N...Congratulations on being this season’s Swan Queen," he continued, his voice low and deliberate. "You’ve done very well. You must be very pleased with yourself."

You managed a quiet thank you, though the words felt strange on your lips, your usual confidence faltering under his watchful gaze. His praise should have flattered you, but instead, it left you feeling oddly exposed, like he saw more than you intended to show.

He released your hand, but the strange, lingering sensation stayed with you, leaving you both captivated and nervous.

Feeling faint, you sat down on your vanity chair. "So, you know Hongjoong?" you asked, searching for some logic behind his sudden presence.

"I do," he replied smoothly, though there was a slight glint in his eye that betrayed him. "We’ve been discussing a potential business venture together."

The truth, however, was a little more complicated. Seonghwa had met Hongjoong only once, barely enough to call him an acquaintance. From the start, Hongjoong hadn’t seemed eager to hand over his only asset to a man of Seonghwa’s reputation, especially not when rumors swirled about his intention to repurpose the theater into something as mundane as a car wash to serve as a front for his family’s business. But Seonghwa knew how to persuade, and when he named his price, Hongjoong’s reluctance began to waver.

That first night, they’d arranged to negotiate the deal, and Seonghwa had come prepared to secure the theater with his usual finesse. But Hongjoong was running late. Growing tired from standing in the lobby all evening, Seonghwa decided to sit in an empty seat during the show only to rest his feet, but your elegant movements captivated him, and made him forget who he was and why he was there. 

He stepped closer, closing the distance between you in a way that made the small room feel even smaller. Your breath hitched as his intense gaze softened slightly, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. The air between you felt charged, the warmth of his presence mingling with the lingering cold from his leather gloves.

“But I’m not here to talk about that,” He said, towering over you, “I could actually use your help in something.” 

There was something odd yet inticing about his request. What could he, a possible mob boss, want from someone like you?

“And what might that be?” You asked, your throat suddenly feeling dry. 

He was so close to you now that you could pick up the warming notes of his cologne— spices, sandalwood, and a hint of citrus. You’d seen his face a thousand times before, always shrouded in the dim lighting of the audience, his expression always stoic and muted. But now, with the light catching the sharp angles of his cheekbones and his plush and perfect lips just inches away from you, he was utterly captivating. You couldn’t look away. 

"You see, I have this problem," he said, pacing slowly around you, his voice steady but laced with something unspoken. The air shifted each time he moved, the chill of his absence replaced by an intoxicating warmth as he drew near again. 

"A problem?" you echoed, your voice a little breathless, trying to focus as his reflection loomed behind you in the mirror.

"Mm." He stopped directly behind you, lowering his head closer to the nape of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "It’s you," he admitted, his tone dropping into something dangerously intimate.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Me?"

Seonghwa straightened himself, meeting your wide-eyed gaze in the mirror, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smirk. "You’re making it very hard for me to focus on my job," he said. His words were as smooth as they were direct. "And when a man like me gets distracted… it causes complications."

He moved again, standing to your side now, his hand resting lightly on the back of your chair. The closeness was almost unbearable, every nerve in your body hyper-aware of his presence.

"So," he continued, his eyes locking onto yours, "I thought perhaps you could help me resolve this little… issue of mine."

Your mind raced to comprehend the suggestion wrapped in his words. The way he looked at you left no room for misinterpretation, his meaning clear without being crass. You felt a sudden pulse between your legs, forcing you to squeeze your thighs tighter. 

"And how exactly would I… help?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seonghwa tilted his head, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "You’re a clever woman," he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your shoulder with deliberate care. "I think you already know."

—

You sat perched on your dressing table, forced to see yourself reflected in the mirror. There was a nervous flutter in your stomach as Seonghwa loomed behind you, his broad shoulders and low eyes making your breath hitch. You watched as he parted your thighs before eagerly ripping at the center seam of your stocking, revealing your glistening cunt to you both. Before you could react, he brought down his gloved hand, tapping on your pulsing clit a few times before pressing down in slow and small circles. 

The coldness of the leather made you gasp, your heartbeat spiraling in excitement. You could see your slick coating his fingers, bringing a faint shine to his black gloves. 

“Such a fat little pussy,” he breathed into your neck, the sudden warmth making a few hairs stand at your nape. He lightly slapped your cunt again, his mouth watering at your chubby, wet folds. “Didn’t think such a sweet little ballerina had something like this between her legs.” 

You couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as you took in your reflection, hardly recognizing the scantily clad woman before you. You pressed your eyes shut as he continued pulling a string of shaky, breathless moans from your lips.

“Let’s see how well this little pussy can take me, hm?” He challenged, refusing to wait for your response before inserting a leathered digit into your wet walls. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, struggling to wrap around the thickness of his glove. Seonghwa chuckled at your tightness.

“Please,” You begged, tightly holding onto his working arm. But the desperation in your voice only egged him on. He thrust in a merciless rhythm, the squelching sounds from your arousal sending blood down to his groin. 

“Please what dear? You want more?” Seonghwa grinned devilishly before stuffing in another finger, the sudden stretch sending a mix of pain and pleasure to your core. He worked you open at a brutal pace, soaking in your sweet moans as you gripped onto him tighter. 

You were slowly coming undone, your knees quivering and threatening to cave in. You felt his hand grip onto your inner thigh, holding you open as much as possible for him. It was then that you fluttered your eyes open, only to find his gaze already locked onto yours in the mirror. You felt a twist in your stomach like he’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t be doing. You quickly realized that Seonghwa had been watching you in the mirror, his gaze unwavering as he took in every tear tracing your scorned red cheek, the delicate furrow of your brow, and the way your plush, pouty lips let out the softest, most beautiful whines he’d ever heard. Just as enchanting as your expressions were on stage, they were even more alluring here as he ravished you at his will. 

His fingers were so much deeper now, hitting you in all the right places, until the tension inside of you snapped and you finally let go all over his gloved fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You sputtered, watching your wetness drip down his gloves. Exhaustion suddenly took over you, forcing your head to fall against his chest. 

“I hope you don’t think we’re finished here,” He whispered, his soft, full lips feathering over your ear lobe, “There’s still a lot of things I need you to do.”

—

You were sprawled out over the table now, your top completely discarded, leaving you in just your ripped stockings. Seonghwa liked the stockings you wore on stage. They were so pearly and smooth, and he almost felt bad for ruining them this way. He leaned down and peppered a trail of kisses under your ear, down to your collarbone, lingering over your hardened peaks briefly, before continuing down to your pelvis. 

You felt a wave of heat spread over you as he kissed around the outside of your cunt before spreading your lips with his fingers, reuniting you with the coldness of the leather. He dragged his long, warm tongue over your hot slit, groaning once your essence reached his tastebuds. 

“You taste just as sweet as you look,” He praised, before wrapping his lips over your swollen clit. He sucked and pulled, swallowing every bit of juice you offered him hungrily. 

Your back arched in bliss, your hips rolling as he gleefully lapped away at your cunt. He pressed his strong hands down your inner thighs to keep you still, your puffy pussy now spread completely open for him to devour. He savored every drop of you, like a predator that spent weeks catching its prey.

Seonghwa told himself he’d finally be rid of this infatuation after tonight and return to his duties with no more distractions, but how could he now after seeing you like this? With your body so willing, the sheer afterglow hitting your face and collarbones, the uneasy rise of your chest, and those lustful, messy moans? It all enticed him even further, and he worried he’d never be able to stay away. 

Seonghwa was at his peak now, and he couldn’t hold out any longer. He quickly sprang up at his feet, the sounds of his belt unbuckling making your core throb with anticipation. His angry, red tip pressed against your slit, making you gasp at how hot and hard he felt. 

Seonghwa pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch until his shaft was completely sucked in by you. He cursed at your tightness and moved his hips slowly, allowing you to adjust to his girth.

“Fuck!” You cried out, curling your toes as he plunged deeper into you. He fucked you hard and rough, determined to take all his anger and frustrations out on you so that he could return to his stoic self. He hated you for throwing him off his game, and he still held onto that hope that he’d finally let go of all his pent up emotions once he finishes fucking your brains out. He just needed to get it out of his system.

You winced at his tight grasp on your hips. His pace was brutal, the sounds of your dressing table rocking against the wall overpowering your desperate screams, yet you refused to open your eyes. You didn’t want to see his face while he thrusted into you with an unspoken vendetta. His gaze alone made you feel even more hot and frazzled. 

Suddenly, you felt his hand creep to the back of your head, pulling your head up by a fistful of strands. You took in a sharp breath, the pain of your pulled hair forcing you to open your eyes at last.

“Look at how good you fucking take me,” He grunted, pushing your head down farther to help you get a good look at his cock stretching out your swollen cunt. “ ‘Take me just like a good girl.” 

Your face grew hot as you watched yourself take him in, eyes bulging at his thick cock that was decorated with pulsing veins and twitched inside of you so deliciously. So drunk off his cock, you found yourself rambling nonsense as he fucked you into oblivion. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me so good!”

You felt you both were melting into each other, your breathing growing erratic and unsteady until you finally lost your composure.

Seonghwa pulled out of you, spilling himself over your wet cunt as he sucked in a breath, making sure to milk out every last drop of his seed. You couldn’t help but watch as he spread his thick, white cum over your swollen pussy lips, your body twitching from the sensitivity. 

When you looked up at him, you found his face flushed as red as yours, his mouth slightly agape, with an expression that caught you off guard. The moody, confident alpha male who had entered your room now seemed unsteady, his composure cracked, leaving him looking utterly broken and confused.

He leaned down, his breath mingling with yours for a fleeting moment before his lips finally pressed against yours. The kiss was seamless, as though the two of you had been meant to move together in this way all along. The warmth of his touch ignited something between you, a spark that quickly became a flame, and a flame that would soon become a raging fire that could never be put out.

Seonghwa's desire for you only intensified in that moment. Whatever his plans had been before tonight, they now felt irrelevant, tangled up in the web of feelings he could no longer suppress. He didn’t know what this meant for his current predicament—how this would complicate everything—but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t be letting you go anytime soon. He’s marked his destiny by letting himself be engulfed in the flames.

[mysterymessmachine]

FINALLY, GOOD SOUP

context for my additions: I have one working eye. the other is still technically there and consuming calories like it owns the place, but I only have a tiny sliver of peripheral vision since the rest of my retina is a calcified tumor. I was born this way, so I also never knew how to see differently

- MAKEUP: oh my god, makeup. lol. I gave up years ago because "sisters not twins" was more along the lines of "distantly related cousins who don't get along but still forced to sit at the same table at the family reunion."

- further, skin stuff?? when you can't see the right side of your body very well, even in a mirror, you miss a lot. I'm sure I have freckles I've never seen before

- driving: I had to fight for my license. if I fuck up too badly they can take it at any time. this has made me extremely cautious and I've never been in a wreck that was my fault. I also created my own form of depth perception for driving (now used for everything) that involves constantly recalculating distance based off of the object's change in size proportional to itself, myself, and surrounding objects. when stationary, I often use head movements to create the different angles I need to triangulate

- shooting: not really sure how this one happened but I'm a great shot. better than my ex-wife who was in a specialty position in the military before we met. I guess not ever having to adjust to closing one eye has its benefits too lol

- my phantom sights are PEOPLE. often silhouettes but sometimes much more detailed. it was terrifying when I was a kid but the shadows and I are buds now

- you would think I would love 3D movies since it artificially creates the 3D I've never experienced but in fact, it makes me fear for how I now assume you all experience the world and I have a migraine

- sitting is the inverse of OP's point above about walking. I always sit with my blind side to the wall because when people sneak up on my blind side, I improvise entirely new forms of self defense and they're usually bad for both of us

- personally, the headcanon of Zuko sleeping with his good side buried in the pillow when he feels safe is also accurate (but I toss and turn a lot lol)

- another note on depth perception: did not develop that in time for gym class in school. consequentially, was The Worst at sports. if there was an object involved, it hit me in the face somehow, sometimes seemingly defying physics to do so. it was honestly kind of comical in retrospect

- most pictures of myself are staged, at least somewhat, so that my good eye is facing the camera, something is covering the bad one, etc etc. it used to be more obvious but I've gotten better lol. does make me feel like Bill Cipher though so, eh, I'll take it

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

[hyperions-light]

Someone was being a fucking hater on my explicitly positive DATV post AGAIN (u all know I can see your tags right. They get delivered to me express mail style) so here’s an essay about how I thought the Grey Warden plotline was great:

First, it was extremely lore-consistent. I don’t know how to tell people this, but the Grey Wardens simply are sort of shady— it’s part of their charm. In DAO alone we found out they:

- kill anyone who refuses the joining

- are definitely using a blood magic ritual to induct people

- tried to usurp the throne of Fereldan

In DA2 they:

-Forced Malcolm Hawke to perform a blood magic ritual against his will to contain Corypheus, by threatening to kill his family

- Built a giant prison in the mountains they didn’t tell anyone about and that someone could wander into and not be able to escape

- the entire Corypheus thing. They didn’t even tell the other Wardens like what he was or how dangerous he was.

DAI:

- the demon army thing was pretty bad

And that’s not even mentioning any stuff from the books or comics or shows! That’s just stuff in the games!

So they’re shady. It’s okay! They’re my little woobie guys, idc if they’re sort of shady!

But the plot in DATV is about all of those previously established issues coming back to bite them in the fucking ass, as they should! Knock knock, it’s the consequences of your actions, baby! The chickens are home to roost

(Which is just good storytelling. Like if you set up a bunch of issues and then never pay them off or anything that’s bad.)

Destroying Weisshaupt was inspired! Firstly bc Davrin is Weisshaupt, metaphorically (bulwark against the darkness, etc, I already made a post) so it serves his character arc. But also because it strips away the pageantry and the grandeur from them; no more castle for you! No more myth!

Davrin explicitly tells you that the First Warden is a traditionalist; he represents the historical attitudes of the Wardens. They do not accept help, they do not give up their secrets, they are standing alone against the dark. And it doesn’t work! He’s fucking wrong (and very punch-able). Being secretive and isolationist is a mistake that costs them nearly everything.

But also, and I’m not sure how many people experienced this on the first go-around, the game does ultimately come down on the side of the Wardens always trying to do the right thing. You CAN talk the First Warden down, because in the end he’s a Warden, and he might be stubborn and curmudgeonly and miserable but he CARES about the world. He came to do good. He admits he was wrong and he helps you. Because the heart of the Wardens is about selfless service to other people. In Death, Sacrifice.

Stripping away Weisshaupt and the glory and pageantry leaves the Wardens at their most vulnerable and forces them to return to their fundamental principles: helping people. That’s what Lavendel is about. Helping individual people and preserving every life possible even if it doesn’t feel that glamorous or heroic. Lavendel isn’t a significant place; it doesn’t matter, but it matters so much.

And then, the Cauldron.

First off, do not at me about Last Flight. I don’t think people should have to read external materials to play this game and understand it. If the information is vital it should be presented to the player in the text.

The Cauldron is the repository of the Wardens’ secrets; it’s where the keep the bones of the Archdemons, the secret to the Joining, ancient and dangerous weapons, as well as the bodies of the griffons, which represents their most shameful errors. Isseya is the avatar of the Wardens’ mistakes; she’s been hurt by what they made her do, and her pain was never acknowledged by them. They buried her story and her suffering like they bury everything they don’t want to deal with and are ashamed of. They left the bones of the griffons, whose deaths they directly caused, to rot because they were too sad to acknowledge them.

But it was wrong to walk away, it was wrong to bury it. Isseya makes sure that they can never do that again, that they have to own what they did and take responsibility. By discovering who she is and by restoring her personhood to her, by reminding her of her love which drove her to her anguish in the first place, Davrin saves her and he saves the griffons. He doesn’t do it using violence, because another sin of the Wardens is just assuming that they can kill their way out of their problems, which the game disproves by revealing the origin of the Blight. You can kill as many darkspawn as you want, you will never fix it! The Titans’ dreams do not need to be slain, they need to be healed.

Isseya is in so much pain because of her incredible love for both the griffons and the Wardens, and because of her guilt. Look what she builds! An alternate Weisshaupt, a distorted reflection of her home. She entreats both Davrin and Assan to join her, because she doesn’t think she’s trying to destroy anything. She’s trying to save them! She wants them to come home. “I am their mother,” she says, and she’s right. She saved them, then, and she ends up saving them now! Because she made Davrin and the other Wardens look, unflinchingly, at what they had done, it will never happen again. She was going about it wrong during the game, but she was ALWAYS trying to save them.

Davrin, Antoine and Evka represent the Wardens’ commitment to being different. They let Flynn undergo the Joining without becoming a Warden, they reveal secrets to non-Warden Rook, they offer to help the Viper without asking for anything in return. They ask for help and offer it freely. If the Wardens are going to persist into a world without Archdemons, they HAVE to change. They can’t be what they were anymore. The game is asking what a Warden is when they have to be more than their oath, when they have to live. It’s a great exploration of and expansion on previously established lore.

Anyway, my advice if you hated the plot and the game and the characters is to a) make your own post b) don’t bother me about it, because I have the time and I will be loudly positive in response!

[littlelamy]

touches with rafe

the day had been long, and you were grateful when the evening finally arrived. you sank into the couch, your legs stretched out comfortably, feeling the soft cushions embrace you after a day that seemed to drag on forever. the house was quiet, the kind of peaceful stillness that only came when everything and everyone had settled down for the night.

rafe, your boyfriend, had been quiet all evening. normally, he was full of his usual cocky confidence, always teasing you or pulling some prank. but tonight, he had been unusually introspective, his usual swagger replaced by an almost shy energy that was hard to ignore.

your feet, freshly manicured with a soft blush pink polish, rested neatly on the edge of the couch. you had treated yourself earlier in the week, and you couldn’t help but admire how clean and polished they looked. rafe’s occasional glances seemed to linger there, and you began to wonder if it was just your imagination or if he was genuinely fascinated by something so seemingly mundane

you’d long gotten used to rafe’s bold, often unpredictable nature, but this side of him—this quieter, almost uncertain rafe—was something you hadn’t quite experienced before.

he had been pacing back and forth a bit earlier, the floor creaking beneath his heavy steps, but now he was standing in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest, looking like he was debating whether or not to speak. his eyes were on you, watching you with that familiar gaze that always made your heart skip a beat. but tonight, there was something more—something deeper, more vulnerable in the way he was looking at you.

you gave him a soft smile, your curiosity piqued. “what’s up, baby?” you asked, looking up from your phone.

the seemed to hesitate for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek like he was weighing his words. there was a noticeable shift in the way he was standing, his posture more tense than usual, as if he was nervous about something.

“can I talk to you about something?” he asked, his voice softer than usual. there was a certain caution in his tone, something that made your heart flutter with both curiosity and affection.

you sat up a little, giving him your full attention. “of course. what’s on your mind?”

rafe shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair before he took a step toward you, still not quite meeting your eyes. “it’s... it’s kind of embarrassing,” he mumbled. “but I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I feel like I need to ask.”

you tilted your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “what is it, babe? You know you can ask me anything.”

he bit his lip, looking hesitant. “'kay, here goes,” he said, finally looking up at you, his eyes locking with yours. “could you... could you let me kiss your feet?”

your eyes widened slightly, the request coming out of nowhere, but you couldn’t help but chuckle. “what?” you asked, more amused than anything. “you want to kiss my feet?”

rafe blushed, clearly uncomfortable with how the words had come out. “i know it sounds weird,” he said quickly, “but it’s just... i don’t know. i’ve been thinking about it, and i can’t stop. i swear, i’m not trying to be weird or anything.” he paused, looking almost apologetic, as if he expected you to laugh at him or brush it off.

you couldn’t help but smile at how vulnerable he looked. rafe was always so confident, so full of that cocky attitude that made him a force to be reckoned with. but now, here he was, asking you for something so intimate, something that made him seem more human, more real. the sincerity in his voice made your heart soften.

“it’s not weird, Rafe,” you said gently, moving your legs so they were more in his line of sight. “if you want to, then... i’m not going to stop you.”

you could see his relief in the way his shoulders relaxed, the tension in his posture fading. he took a cautious step closer, his eyes never leaving yours as if searching for any sign that you were joking or that you’d changed your mind. but you didn’t. you were genuinely curious and, honestly, kind of intrigued by the vulnerability he was showing.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice still tentative.

you nodded, smiling softly at him. “yeah, i’m sure. it’s not a big deal, rafe. you can kiss them if that’s what you want.”

there was a moment of silence, and then, without another word, he lowered himself to his knees in front of you, the intensity in his eyes never wavering. you felt a small shiver run through you at the sudden shift in the atmosphere. this wasn’t a playful request or a joke—it was something deeper, something intimate that spoke to the trust and connection between you two.

rafe gently took your foot in his hands, his touch surprisingly soft, as if he was afraid he might break you. he held your ankle carefully, as though it was the most precious thing he had ever touched. you felt the warmth of his hands against your skin, the tenderness of his fingers brushing against your foot as he leaned down to press a slow, deliberate kiss to your toes.

the sensation was unexpected. his lips were soft, his kiss gentle, as if savoring the moment. it wasn’t just physical—it was a moment of intimacy, of trust, of affection. you couldn’t help but close your eyes for a brief second, overwhelmed by the tenderness of it.

“i’ve wanted to do this for a while,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “i don’t know why... but something about your feet, they're so pretty... just drives me crazy.”

you smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead as he continued to kiss your toes, each kiss more careful than the last. there was something undeniably intimate about the way he was treating you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered at that moment.

his lips moved from your toes to the arch of your foot, kissing the delicate curve with a reverence that made your breath catch in your throat. his hands gently massaged your foot as he continued his slow journey up, each kiss lingering longer, more possessive.

you couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh, the warmth in your chest spreading. the sensation of his lips against your skin, so intimate, so careful, was unlike anything you had ever felt before. it was like he was tasting you, savoring every inch of you, and you found yourself giving into the feeling more and more.

as he reached your ankle, he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss there, then placed a few kisses along the top of your foot, moving higher with each press of his lips. you felt your body respond, warmth spreading through your limbs, a soft tension building in your stomach as his lips continued their journey. his kisses were becoming more insistent, more deliberate.

when his lips finally met the soft skin of your inner ankle, you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, your body responding to the electricity that was pulsing through you. it was an involuntary sound, one that made rafe freeze for just a moment.

he looked up at you, eyes darker than before, filled with a hunger that only deepened the connection between you two. “you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “i want you to feel good.”

you didn’t have to say anything; your body was already betraying you, the way you shifted slightly under his touch, the way your breathing had become a little more erratic. rafe continued his gentle ministrations, his lips trailing higher, moving toward your calf, his touch growing more confident.

his hands moved to your other foot, lifting it gently and bringing it toward his lips. he kissed your toes again, but this time, his lips were warmer, hungrier, the kiss deeper and more possessive. your body tensed at the feeling of his lips wrapping around your big toe, his tongue softly grazing it, before he kissed the next one, then the next.

you moaned again, unable to hold back the soft sounds of pleasure that escaped you as he continued. your body was responding to him, the intimacy of the moment making everything feel sharper, more intense. you felt like you were losing control, but at the same time, you didn’t want it to stop. you wanted this. you wanted him.

rafe pulled away for just a moment, his eyes searching yours, his breath heavy as he licked his lips. there was a fire in his gaze now, something raw and real. he wanted more. he wanted all of you.

and when you looked back at him, your eyes heavy with desire, you knew you wanted the same.

without a word, he gently lifted your other foot and repeated his slow, teasing kisses, this time taking his time with each toe. your heart raced, your body reacting to the delicious warmth spreading through you. with every kiss, every soft suck, your world narrowed down to just him and the overwhelming feeling he was giving you. and the moans that escaped your lips grew louder, your body arching toward him, asking for more.

rafe’s lips pressed against your foot one last time, his kiss deep and slow, as though he was savoring every moment of this, before he looked up at you, his breath ragged. “you’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice a low growl. “i can’t get enough of you baby."

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[irisbaggins]

This isn't going to be as in-depth as my other meta (I am too tired after Uni and thinking about different literary theories), but I've seen some folks point it out and wanted to add my own two cents:

From the way I view Evan's behaviour since the killing of Philtrum, I read it as him becoming defeatist towards his own nature. He truly believes he's a bad person, who doesn't deserve love nor happiness. He chafes against any assertion that he's loved or cherished, and he clashes with anyone attempting to assert that he's valuable and loved just the way he is. The only person who he doesn't outright clash with is Sam, and that is - I believe - only due to the fact he saw and experienced her emotions and feelings, and therefore cannot quite dispute them. With Jammer and K he can, because he doesn't have that insight into their true feelings. He can make assumptions, then, and run with that idea.

Why does this matter, then? Well, I've noticed how Evan pushes back against the three, and how it differs with each person. Because he does clash against all of them, just differently depending on the person. With Sam, he doesn't outright deny her claims, but it's clear he doesn't believe her fully. He just doesn't say it because it makes her sad and, after every kindness she's shown him, he doesn't think she deserves to feel like that. With Jammer, we've seen him either outright challenge him - how he's mentioned to Jammer's teammates and the lack of talking about his inherent magic - and we've seen him doubt and distrust Jammer's overt affection - not believing they're family, despite Jammer's insistence that they are. And with K, Evan has never truly believed himself worthy of love, but he doesn't quite understand that that's the issue K has with him, and therefore thinks K just wants to "change him" to fit their worldview (instead of being that K wants to "fix him" in terms of his self worth etc.).

Evan clashes with all of them, and I argue that it's because he doesn't see himself as worthy of their compassion. I would have to re-watch the first few episodes of the season to be sure, but I have the distinct feeling that Evan's refusal to believe in his friends' compassion started after killing B2, something he did without hesitation and without direct remorse. And I think that's the core issue, here. I believe that's why Evan is so adamant in his position, in his belief of his unworthiness, in his desire for power and control; he truly believes he became what he always feared, and he's both accepted this and is also denying it. He pretends everything's fine, yet he also cannot escape the feeling that he's doomed. He called himself heir to the evil house, something he's always denied. I think that alone is an insight into Evan's mindset; he thinks himself evil, which places him in direct opposition to his friends who he believes to be good.

I talked about K and control, and how they can - in their attempt to pretend - be hurtful in what they say. I argue the same is true with Evan, but instead of being directly self-sabotaging with his speech, he's doing it indirectly. He's placing himself as someone they shouldn't trust, and he himself might not be consciously aware of it. He's self-sabotaging, at least from the way I read his actions, especially in light of K's conversation with Tabby. He doesn't trust that the affection of others is genuine, and therefore will treat it as if it weren't. And he's only gotten worse, I think. Yes, he can throw out affection and "I love yous", but receiving them? He doesn't know how to handle that, and will either just go along with it quietly, or question it directly.

Evan's trapped within a negative feedback loop, and I think this is only heightened with his conflict with the Qohlye, and his conflict with him. Specifically, I'm thinking about the ways in which Evan refuses to actually understand why he was given the book, and why it's a horribly sad thing to happen to him. Not because the Qohlye thinks Evan is only meant for sadness, but because the Qohlye understands and knows that the book will only lead Evan to a darker place in a desperate attempt to keep control. The Qohlye is sad, I think, because he knows Evan will happily walk a path he himself doesn't want just to keep his friends close - something that will, in the end, only lead to great sadness. Just take his near sacrifice when saving K from death in the first season, or killing B2 in this season. Evan is a self-fulfilling prophecy, and the Qohlye sees this, and sees Evan refusing to attempt to understand it. That's the sad part, I think. That's where that grief comes from. It comes from seeing a bright and kind kid destroy themselves because of them believing themselves unworthy of love.

I could go on with this topic, but I think I'll end my rant for now by concluding with this: Evan hasn't acknowledged the demons directly since he discovered they had returned, and I am very worried with what's going to happen in the last two episodes. Especially with the references to "kill your dad" and all. Evan is such an interesting character to analyse, especially since he's such a flawed and complex character. Often, what I've noticed with him, is that it's what he doesn't say that leaves the most impact. And him not acknowledging his own emotions and his own fears regarding his nature is quite telling. Especially as he's positioned himself as a wizard killer. I'll probably write some more meta at a later date regarding him - as well as meta on K, Jammer, and Sam, as I find all of them so incredibly fascinating. But I shall end the post now before I fall asleep typing, because I am dead on my feet. So, if this post makes no sense, really sorry about that! Will probably refine it later when I'm dodging writing about my thesis.

Also, just wanted to add: If anyone has like, any points, disagreements, or just general thoughts about this post and my takes, I'm happy to hear them! I'm always up to hear what others think of my takes, especially if you disagree. It always fascinates me to hear what others think about characters and a story, so please do not hesitate to interact if you have your own two cents!

[cherry-pop-elf]

Night terrors

Anya x Reader

Can be read as platonic because we all want to take care of her like we wish someone would for us

AN: As a victim of sexual assault I feel it is important to have a realistic fluff story about the aftermath of it. How it affects the person after it’s been done and how the trauma lingers. How it’s so very important for the person to have a support network. YOU will be her support network. Thank you

Also not to get political but god women in the USA are experiencing a massive increase of assaults so call this projection, or call this training for the inevitable

SUM: Despite surviving that Tulpar adventure, despite all the good karma thrown back at you all, there are just too many many scars to truly recover from

Warnings: Past sexual assault, nightmares, PTSD, whump, abortion, paranoia, it’s gonna be a stressful read, there will be fluff don’t worry, paranoia, inspired/based on my own experiences

“STOP-!”

Anya was screaming in her sleep again.

Woke you up pretty quickly, as you were sharing a bed with her. She was rather scared to sleep alone. Afraid that someone will just break in and take advantage of her. That somehow Jimmy, who long since was dead, will break in again.

“Anya-! Anya wake up! It’s me! Anya-!” You would shake her and try to get her to wake up. To get her out of that terrifying cloud of memories. Her poor face was pale and full of sweat, and she was scared awake by you shaking her. For a fleeting moment she thought it was Jimmy.

As she gave another cry, you reached over and turned on the bedside tables lamp.

She saw your face, and finally took a breathe.

You two weren’t on the Tulpar anymore. Jimmy wasn’t going to hurt either of you ever again. Swansea was home with his wife. Daisuke was home with his mother and father. And she was here with you.

She was alive.

“I….Im sorry-“ Anya sniffled, as you just pulled her into your arms. Gentle with combing your fingers through her hair. Just gentle reminders to not be sorry. To not be sorry for being justified with her fear.

“He won’t ever get you again. I promise.” You would remind her, but she would still tremble.

“Can we check the locks again?” She would ask you, and you would nod. Often times this was the case. No matter how many times she would ask you that question you never got annoyed. It’s good to check the locks anyway. Gotta stay safe after all.

You would both climb out of bed, put on your robes, and go walking around the home. One of your hands was left to be held by Anya’s, as the other would be used to check the locks on everything. From the multiple at front door, from each window, to that of the back door. Each one checked, as Anya would hug at you close.

Was a very nice home, you had to admit. After having rescue finally called, and being saved, the media went nuts. Especially on the fact Curly was still alive. Gave Anya the much needed support to show she was very worthy of a position as a proper doctor. That also meant she got herself quite the hefty salary. Also helps that she now had partial royalties to the book she helped write about the adventure on the ship.

“Every lock is secure.” You explained, as she gave still an anxious look.

“Let’s check each room, and closet. Yeah?” That made her quickly nod.

Now you two were roaming the entire house now. Checking under furniture, in closets, all the nine yards. No stone was left un-turned. You would do it a million times for her. She deserved to have some kind of relief from it all.

“There we go. No Jimmy.” You would give her a hug, and she hugged you back. Still shaken, but at least she was breathing more steady.

The two of you would return to the bedroom, where she did her routine. Checking under her pillow for her sheathed knife, the bedside for her baseball bat, the drawer for her gun, and to take an extra pill to help with the anxiety burst she was having. Her routine.

She would try and lay down, only to dart her head towards the bedroom door. Eyes wide with raw and pure fear.

“I swear I heard him at the door. I swear I did. He said my name he said my name-“ She whimpered, as you would get up. You opened the door, looked around the hallway, and returned.

“Don’t worry Anya. I didn’t hear a single thing.” You reassured, as you would lock the bedroom door for her. Along with putting a chair under the door handle. Even went as far as to double check the bedroom windows, and closed the curtains.

“I’m so sorry-“ She would begin again, as her eyes watered. She felt like such a burden. To have all this fear and paranoia. To the point she couldn’t feel safe when left alone. You couldn’t blame her though. The wounds were still so horribly fresh. Not to mention sometimes PTSD can kick in so many years later. You’ll take the morbid comfort in having it kick in now where you all can handle it now and prepare for the future than suddenly out of nowhere in God knows how long.

It is what it is.

She wasn’t the only one traumatized after all, and she shouldn’t need to apologize for justified fear.

You would pull her back into your arms, and you both laid down. You would turn on the white noise machine for her, to help block the paranoid sounds of voices and scratches from the doors, and would just talk with her. Talk until her medication kicked in to help her sleep.

Didn’t matter what it was. It was just noise to keep her mind distracted.

You wondered how the rest of the crew was doing. How they were dealing with it.

They all had family, so maybe they were doing well. Really should meet up again soon. Can’t be blamed life is so busy.

Curly was back living with his parents and siblings, which they welcomed with open arms. Even his friends before the crew were willing to all share a space to help.

Swansea had his wife and even his kids. Sure he says he’s too old to be traumatized but he keeps checking on his kids way more often now. That’s for sure.

God knows when poor Daisuke’s PTSD will kick in. He may be acting fine now but it’s gonna be a ticking time bomb. It’ll come at him sooner or later. For now his parents were feeling like monsters for pressuring him into that intern ship. He never blamed them, of course. He is even still working under a mentorship with Swansea even. Guess not everything was negative.

Then there was you and Anya. She was the most traumatized of all. There was even the trauma of an abortion. There’s still so many emotions with that as well, but you held her hand through it. Even as far as to move in with her to help. You two had always been very close. Even before joining the crew. You two were always tagged together. Even nicked named her assistant to a point.

You’ll stick with her through the ends of the earth.

“Wanna go visit Curly in the morning? It’ll be Saturday. Maybe we can even invite Swansea and Daisuke.” You offered. Just something positive to look forward to. Something worth waiting for.

“That would be nice.” She muttered, as her own paranoias exhaustion was kicking in. Too tired to even be afraid. Often times how it ends. She gets herself so worked up it ends up being the very same thing that makes her fall back asleep.

“Yeah. We can check out his new prosthetics. Daisuke said he even bought stickers specifically for them.” That had Anya smile. That sweet smile that was hard to come by right now. One that was filled with comfort. Comfort of such an innocent and sweet thought.

“Swansea says he’s also going to attach his own upgrades to it. Not sure how that will work, or what the hell he’s planning, but not gonna lie I need to see if he gives him rocket boosters.”

That got a little laugh from her. The both of you imagining poor Captain Curly flying around in the sky, as Daisuke runs around with some trampoline to try and catch him on.

Just something silly to cut through it all.

Seemed to work, as you could feel her breathing easier now. Her breath not so intense. Was far more steady, and you could tell she fell back asleep. You were thankful for it. Not because she was annoying you. No. Never. But because she needed her rest. She deserves it. She already is working long hours at the hospital, which you bet is because she is trying to avoid being isolated and alone at all cost maybe even reduce sleeping to, so she needed proper sleep more than ever.

And you’ll do your best for her. To help her with it all. You were her little assistant. You’ll do what an assistant does best. Make sure your boss is able to tackle projects easier.

And this project was healing. A project that won’t ever end, will have ups and downs, and be taxing. Over time out the ass and no vacations.

And you know what you say to that?

Bring it.

Thank you so much for reading. This was a more vulnerable piece because Anya really reminded me so much of myself. How I’m suppose to take care of everyone else, while my traumatic abuse is just swept under the rug.

Since you read all the way to the end, maybe take a look at this

National Sexual Assault Hotline:

1-800-656-4673

National Domestic Violence Hotline:

800-799-7233

RAINN (Rape Abuse Incest National Network)

1-800-656-4673

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

1-800-273-8255

You deserve love and support. What happened wasn’t your fault in the slightest. Not even for a single second. You deserve happiness, hope, and to live a long and healthy life. Everything will be ok again. Doesn’t seem like it now, but it will. I promise

[straylightdream]

getaway car

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: hansol vernon chwe x f.reader

↳ The ties were black, the lies were white. In shades of gray in candlelight. I wanted to leave him. I needed a reason.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: soulmate au??, neighbors to lovers, non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mc boyfriend is a jerk, the mc ex is physically cheating, mc is emotional cheating, lots of emotions, smut warning below the cut

𝐚𝐧: my next story for SVT inspired by reputation songs by taylor swift. This is part of a loosely connecting series called “all for you” you can absolutely just read this as one shot. Thank you @whimsical-whatever for helping me figure out this story and listening to me ramble about it.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: oral (fem rec), fingering, protected sex, starting to have sex in the shower, multiple positions, this is very fluffy vanilla smut, lots of emotions

When people talk about being in love they always make it sound so grand and wonderful. They don’t talk about the heartbreak that can also be experienced loving someone who doesn’t deserve your love.

Laying in bed you stare at the empty spot that should be occupied by your boyfriend of five years, but instead he’s nowhere to be seen.

In the last seven months things have fallen apart. No matter how hard you think back you don’t think you can pin the moment when it all started. You’re not happy anymore by any means. You’re not even sure you’re still in love.

There’s only one gleam of light in your life. The boy who lives down the hall Vernon. Whenever you see him he instantly brightens your day. You had met when you moved in, but you didn’t really talk until one day he rode in the elevator with you while you were crying. Since that day Vernon has been a fixture in your life. He became a shoulder to cry on when your boyfriend hurt your feelings. He was also someone you could talk to when you wanted to pretend everything was okay.

You tried your hardest to not complain about your relationship all the time. Most of the time you would just say you were sad and needed a friend.

This last week has been bad. It’s quite obvious your boyfriend is cheating on you.

From the moment you met Vernon you felt drawn to him. At first you told yourself it wasn't a romantic feeling but the longer you knew him the more you realized you felt like you need him in your life to exist. You told yourself over and over you were faithful to your boyfriend that this was nothing more than a crush. But the more your relationship starts to crumble the more you let yourself realize you have feelings for the boy down the hall.

It’s another night of fighting with your boyfriend. He’s come home from work way later than he should have. He walks in after midnight and you instantly spot the stain of lipstick on his shirt collar. There is a stabbing feeling in your chest. No matter how hard you loved him he was never going to be faithful to you.

You’ve pointed out to him a handful of times that things he does makes you think he could be cheating, but this is the first time you have called him a cheater. You would think that maybe he would defend himself and tell you that he’s not cheating, but he doesn’t do that. He tells you he cheats because of you. He points all the blame on you.

You scream at him, you're done and it’s over. You feel utterly broken. Sobbing that he broke your heart as he storms out of the apartment saying he needs air.

You sit on the couch trying to gather yourself. Giving yourself a moment before you pick up your phone and rush out of your apartment.

Walking down the hall there is only one person you wanna see. It’s way past one in the morning now. Opening your phone you hit Vernon contact. Holding your phone to your ear it rings about five times before he answers the phone.

“Is everything okay?” It’s rare you call him let alone in the middle of the night.

“Not really. I’m outside, can you let me in,” you start to cry again.

“Yeah.”

Moments later he opens the door quickly. He’s just in a pair of boxer briefs. He must have been in bed already.

“I’m sorry,” you say as tears slide down your cheek.

He doesn’t say anything. He takes your hand leading you into his apartment he shares with Chan and Seokmin.

He shut the door, locking it. He hesitates for a moment before he rests his hand on your cheek and gently wipes away your tears.

“I told him I’m done. He came home after midnight with lipstick stained on his collar. I don’t wanna do this anymore. He doesn’t love me and I can’t love him anymore. I don't love him anymore.” You lean into his touch.

“I’m glad you left him. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. You’re sorry for so many things. You know he cares for you and that he probably has always romantically liked you for a while just like you have. And no matter what you do you hurt him in one way or another.

“Stop saying that. You have nothing to apologize to me for.” He gives you a gentle smile.

“Can we go to your room? I don’t want to bother the boys. It’s already so late and I already woke you up.”

Reaching down he takes your hand in his for the first time and leads you to his room. He shuts the door and releases your hand. “Would you mind if I stayed with you tonight?”

“Of course you can stay here.” You’ve never been so happy you stormed out of the house in your pajamas. “Did you want me to take the couch?”

“No, I was hoping I could sleep in your bed with you. I just really want to hold your hand.”

He can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips. You crawl under the covers and watch as Vernon turns the light on and crawls into bed next to you. You both lay there facing each other. There is a gap between you. Laying your hand there you want to be close to him. You want him to hold you and to kiss you and tell you you’ll be okay. But that is too much to ask of him.

There is always something about Vernon that he’s always been able to read you. He must notice you’re struggling. He reaches out, taking your hand in his.

“I don’t want to go back to my apartment. I don’t want to live in a building that is haunted with memories of him and I.”

He takes a deep breath squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to. I’ll help you pack your things when he’s gone to work.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” You can’t help the tears that are slowly falling.

“You can stay here with me as long as you need.”

“The boys won’t like that.” You can’t imagine either of the boys would be a fan of another person living in their three bedroom one bath apartment.

“They won’t care. Seokmin is back with his ex and barely lives here and Chan loves you. He won’t mind having you around.”

“Okay, I might need to stay here for a while. My lease wasn’t up for like six more months. Maybe I can find somewhere new by then.” Maybe Vernon has a friend who needs a new roommate.

“You don’t have to worry about that right now.” He wants to pull you close to his body and hold you like he has desperately wanted to.

There is a long moment of silence between you. “I didn't tell him I wasn’t coming home tonight. I just left after I told him we’re done.”

“That’s okay.”

“Thank you.” You’re trying to stop your tears.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he gives you a sleepy smile.

It doesn’t take long before you fall asleep with your head on his chest. His hand gently rubs your side soothing you to sleep. When you dream that night you dream about Vernon the boy who saved you. You dream about him finally kissing you the way you desperately want.

-

The next day you call out of work and send your now ex boyfriend a text telling him that it’s truly over. He’s luckily at work and away from the apartment. When he finally returned to your shared apartment last night he sent you seven texts trying to get a hold of you in the middle of last night.

You expect to receive an angry text responding to you telling him you want to break up but he leaves you on read. It’s probably for the best he does. You don’t think you could take arguing with him.

While he’s at work Vernon and Seokmin come help you pack up everything they possibly can. Seungcheol even brings his truck over to take some of your bigger stuff to a storage unit he has. You could cry at how kind Vernon and his friends are being to you. By the time five o'clock comes around basically anything that ever meant anything to you is long gone from your apartment. Seokmin and Seungcheol left you alone while you wrote a goodbye to your ex telling him he wouldn’t be hearing from you and that you would send him one more month worth of rent and that would be it.

Locking the door to your now former apartment stung. Tears brim your eyes thinking about how much you truly loved this apartment. Vernon takes your hand and brings it to his lips where he places a gentle kiss on top.

Moving on wasn’t going to be easy. You know that even though you have fallen out of love. This breakup is going to hurt. At least you now have Vernon there by your side. How much you desperately wanted to be with him, you wanted to heal and you didn’t want him to feel like he’s just a rebound.

Laying in bed that night, your head once again rests on his chest as he holds you close. “I wanna be with you fully,” you whisper.

“That’s good because I wanna be with you.” He’s slowly drawing circles on your arm.

“I don’t want to jump right into this. I think I need some time before we fully try this. But I’m begging you to be patient with me.”

Gently he presses his lips to the top of your head. “I will wait as long as it takes. I’m just asking that I can still hold your hand and hold you while we sleep. I don’t want to push you into anything else while you heal.”

After that night things stayed like this with Vernon for a while. You lived in his home and shared a bed with him for over a month and half. Vernon was truly your person. He was your rock and you have fallen for him even more.

-

Today has been hell. Anything that can go wrong is. You got yelled at at work, your ex has been trying to contact you all day and on top of that. The icing on the cake is getting stuck in a rain storm without a jacket or umbrella after getting dinner. Luckily Vernon is with you so you aren’t alone getting stuck in a rainstorm. After finding out about your terrible day at work Vernon took you out for dinner to cheer you up. Neither of you had any idea a rainstorm was coming. You had walked from the apartment about a mile to a cafe for dinner, but the rain was making it where you needed to get a cab home.

Running from the cab to the apartment building you can feel the water soaking through your clothes.

Opening the door to Vernon apartment you both instantly notice how quiet the apartment is.

“Chan is at work and I think Seokmin is with his girl. They’re fully back together now,” Vernon says. You’ve only met Seokmin ex a couple times when she came over to see him. She’s a sweet girl and seems like a good fit for him.

“Oh. I think I need a shower to warm up.” You pause staring at him for a moment. “Did you want to join?” You know this means things between you will change. But you desperately want more with him. It’s been a month and half of you living here sharing lingering touches, longing stares, and cuddling at night. You aren’t sure how much longer you could share a bed with him before you lose your mind.

“Are you sure?” He says staring at you with almost a concerned look on his face.

“Yes.”

Walking away from him you head off to the shower that is next door to his room. Luckily the boys aren’t home so you don’t have to worry about them interrupting you. You turn on the hot water waiting for him to walk in. Walking into the bathroom he locks the door as you strip away your clothes. He stands there like a statue as you open the sliding glass door and step into the steam. Your body feels an instant relief as the hot water hits your cold skin.

Standing under the warm water you watch Vernon through the frosted glass. You should feel embarrassed about him seeing you naked but you aren’t at all. This feels natural. You want whatever is going to happen with Vernon to happen. You don’t want to feel guilty for having a crush on him. He’s truly the reason you were able to walk away from your loveless relationship.

“Vernon?”

“Yes?”

“Are you going to join me?” You step back under the warm water.

Through the frosted glass you can see him pulling off his shirt. “Do you want me to join you?”

“I want you to.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just takes off his pants and boxers. The glass door slides open and there he is naked in all his glory. You don’t know the last time you saw a man naked other than your ex. Vernon is absolutely beautiful. You hope in the future you can kiss your way across his beautiful skin.

The moment he slides the door shut it doesn’t turn into some lust filled moment. He stares at you for a long moment. A gentle smile on his face.

“Can you come closer to me?” You hold your hand out. Silently he takes your hand stepping closer. The warm water is washing over both of you.

“Thank you,” you don’t think you can ever thank him enough for giving you a reason to leave.

“Don’t have to thank me.”

Reaching up, his hand rests on your cheek, “I feel like you’re supposed to be in my life.”

“I feel like I need you in my life. I feel things for you I never felt for him in those five long years.” He leans down and rest his forehead against yours.

“You know Wonwoo and his girlfriend?”

“You mean the boy who is absolutely in love?” You’ve met all of Vernon’s friend in the last month and half and the moment you met Wonwoo and his girlfriend you realized he was head over heels for his girlfriend. She had told you one night when you were all at Seungcheol and Joshua’s house that Wonwoo made her believe in soulmates. Hearing her say that made you question if soulmates are real. Because if they were, you think you found yours.

“They always say they’re each other's soulmates, and I think you’re mine if they’re real,” he pulls away from you slowly.

Your body feels fuzzy as you process his words. You can’t think straight as you close the small distance between you and crash your lips into his for your first kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair pulling his body closer to yours. You can feel him hardening against your stomach as you deepen the kiss.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this in the shower,” he whispers against your lips.

“Vernon?”

“Yes?”

“I want you in every way imaginable.”

Pulling away from you he turns off the water and steps out of the shower. He hands you a towel and starts working quickly drying himself off. The moment you’re both dry and wrapped in towels, you take his hand leading him towards his room.

Laying on his bed with your legs spread wide he’s kissing his way across your delicate skin. He kisses down your mound before pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit. His fingers part your folds as he licks your sensitive bundle of nerves. Slowly he pumps one finger inside. Your soft moans echo throughout his bedroom. He adds another finger earning a moan. Your finger clutch the sheets below you as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

Looking down at him you find him staring up at you through hooded eyes. He watches as you fall apart moaning his name.

Pulling away slowly he dips his fingers into his mouth wiping away your release. You stumble to sit up wanting to return the favor.

“What are you doing?” He asked, crawling off the bed.

“I was going to give you head in return,” you cock your head to the side.

“How much I would love that, I can’t think about anything other than being inside you,” he sighs.

“Oh-“

He reaches into his nightstand pulling out a foil packet. Tearing it open with his teeth. With lust filled eyes you watch as he rolls it down his hardened length.

Laying back on the bed you spread your legs waiting for him patiently.

Hovering over you he’s staring at you like you are the only person in the whole world. Reaching up, you rest your hand on his cheek.

“Do I sound like I’m crazy if I tell you I love you?” He whispers.

“No not at all,” you thought being in love again would be scary, but you think you have always been in love with him since you met him. He came into your life at the perfect time. You met him as you started to fall out of love with your ex. The moment you met Vernon in the hallway with your hands full of groceries you instantly felt something for him. Being around him made you feel like he’s supposed to be in your life.

“I love you,” he says softly. “I need you to know that before we have sex. I’m head over heels for you.” You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. “You don’t have to say it right now baby. I just want you to know how I feel.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Are you ready?”

You nod.

He slowly slides into you. The stretch feels amazing. Lifting your leg you open yourself up to him more. Everything in the world suddenly feels like it’s shifted. Your fingers claw at his shoulders as he thrust into you at a slow pace. His lips are yours kissing you like he needs you to breathe. This feels different than any other sex you've had before. Tangling your fingers in his hair you gently tug him away from your lips. You want to stare at him for a long moment.

“Oh my god-“ you moan.

“You feel like you were made for me,” he moans.

You hook your leg over his back just above his butt pulling him closer to you. His thrusts are incredibly deep with his slow pace.

“Please-“ you can only whimper and whine.

He rolls his hips a little faster. Your hands move down to his butt. Gripping his cheeks pulling him down closer to you. You feel as if you can’t get physically close enough to him.

“Baby do you want to change positions?” He must notice you want to have some sort of control. You seem like you desperately want to touch him.

“Please.”

He pulls out of you slowly and moves so he’s sitting with his back against the headboard. You waste no time straddling him. Slowly sinking down on his length. His hands rest on your hips helping you ride him. One of your hands rest on his cheek while the others rest on his chest right above his heart. Leaning toward you, press your forehead against his.

Silent gasps pass his lips.

“Fuck-“ you moan.

Your thighs burn as you ride him but that doesn’t stop you. Desperate to see what he looks like when he falls apart.

“Are you close?” You whine.

Silently he nods. One of his hands going up to take your breast. Squeezing it before rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers.

“Are you going to come?” He asked.

“Yes-“

You roll your hips a little faster. You clit brushes against his pelvic bone earning a wanton moan. Your second orgasm hits you harder than your first. Your hips stop moving as a white hot wave washes over you. Rolling your head back, you moan. His hands grip your hips as he moves your body up and down his length chasing his own release.

He falls apart moaning your name. You stare at him as he holds you flush against his thighs and he falls apart. The sight of him like this is absolutely breathtaking.

Your chest is heaving as you try to come down from your high slowly. Holding his face with both hands you slowly lean forward pressing your lips to his for a soft kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper the words that have been floating in your head for a while.

“I love you too.” He can’t help but smile.

“Thank you for giving me a reason to leave him.” You’ll never be able to thank Vernon for showing you that you could love someone else, and that someone could love you more than your ex did. He’s showing what it means to find your person. He’s making you believe soulmates could be real.

He pushes your hair away from your face. His thumb drags across your cheek slowly. “Falling in love with you is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

[dreemurr-skelememer]

Can you elaborate on " i think this is EXACTLY how he should be redeemed especially in regards to how actual canon ink works" ?

the way ink's apathy and placement works as a character is because of him LITERALLY being unable to feel and understand how the characters around him feels, both as a soulless being and also because of how he's MADE to observe everything around him like the creators

the only way for him to ever feel bad about what he did in underverse is to literally put him in the position of the characters around him, along with forcing him to feel and understand how the others around him feel about the situation

the infinite vial/xvial being the trigger that makes him literally FEEL and fully embody and understand everything that xgaster is putting everyone and himself through is the perfect switch for his redemption, because how else are you going to make the soulless being feel for you other than literally putting him in your position and feelings?

it's a really good way of justifying ink getting a redemption arc. core reiterating to him that he is now part of the story he usually just observed, and him enforcing his place in it all in the latest episode, also helps encourage the redemption

he went from observer, to a character that's part of the story. instead of just someone who just watches these things move for entertainment, he's now one with them, experiencing things with them and seeing them as equals.

he's characterized, dare i say fictionalized, himself.

and that's something canon ink lacks the ability to do. mostly because he refuses to (i.e. refusing to give himself a soul bc he has sustainability in the vials, he doesn't see a need for it whereas underverse ink is losing that sustainability)

and he wouldn't have found this out without the vial. SO EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU FRESH!!!! THANK YOU FRESH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[dykedvonte]

One of my mutuals opinions is the "bro code" thing, that Curly is one of those guys who wouldn't care about the victim because the perpetrator is his friend and I'm really banging my head on the wall like that other anon. I've only played through the game once but Curly's behaviour/reactions etc read completely different from the "bro code" thing and I have to wonder if my mutual and I even played the same game.. like the constant digs at him from Jimmy, his body language in his face reveal and so on like you mentioned in your post. While this game is a little different obviously, it kind of reminded of a point in Alice Madness Returns that makes it very clear that Alice's pain blinded her to the abuse of the other children and her failure to act earlier because of it. Curly is guilty of a similar inaction but it doesn't change the fact he was a victim of Jimmy too. I don't think I can look at it any other way because both of these games have really stuck with me.

I genuinely think it really is the idea that people want a simple easy to blame problem and the idea that the only relatable victims of abuse are those that "surpass" it or do a lot to help others. When it comes to victims, especially those that don't fit the typical demographics, who either accidently perpetuate it, enable it or aren't ideal in some way shape or form, people jump to ignore what they went through as it's easier than dealing with those conflicting sentiments.

The bro-code conversation in Mouthwashing stems from a concept I generally dislike that there had to be something about Curly that made him meet or keep being friends with someone like Jimmy. I think people genuinely underestimate how many like decent and good people just know an asshole or are friends with someone who is really bad outside of their view/established dynamics. The game makes it clear none of the inaction against Jimmy is because of a lack of care, it is a lack of understanding from the privaleged postions they have as men to not have to worry about what Anya does/went through and the type of extremes men like Jimmy will go through to cover it up. They are all too preoccupied in their own strifes.

Another thing I see being oversaturated the idea that you have to be a freak, misanthrope or have a disorder to do the thing Jimmy does. The game is an escalation, it's a spiral that I don't see people comment on that Jimmy was not likely having the mood swings and episodes of rage/frustration we were seeing in the game. This is after they all start experiencing the worst moments in their lives that he got THAT openly bad. Of course, this is just my interpretation but much like in real life, people that go to extremes like that usually live mundane lives. It's a pressure cooker affect to where the stress made them pop. It's self inflicted but still the case.

I really think people need to be more willing to acknowledge that not everything needs to be an extreme or in black and white or easy to understand. It doesn't need to be happy or have an answer or solution, especially in the cases where the abused sadly helps perpetuate what they experience. It's not he should've known better from experience or shouldn't he have known what could've happened because victims tend to not like to think in matters of the worst. Not to mention, especially in cases of abuse where it feels so personally directed that you don't expect to happen to someone else.

[taojjang]

riize when you're on your period ✮⋆˙

pairing: bf!riize x fem!reader, genre: fluff (tiny bit of crack idk), warnings: menstrual cycle, blood, medication

♡⸝⸝ how he'd spoil you rotten during that time of the month

shotaro . . .

◦ oh how sweet he'd be :(

◦ taro is always the sweetest to you, treating you like a princess every waking moment of your life.

◦ but when you're on your period, he does everything in his power to lift your spirits and make you feel better.

◦ he wouldn't shy away from buying your feminine hygiene products! a real man, we love to see it!

◦ he'd be at your house every day, calling you beforehand to ask if you need him to get something for you.

◦ even if you say no, he'll never arrive empty-handed. he'll bring your favorite ice cream and maybe even a new teddy bear!

★ - "i'm sorry you're having a tough time, honey... is there anything i can do for you?"

eunseok . . .

◦ not a single day goes by where eunseok isn't spoiling you, waiting for your every request

◦ nothing changes during this time of the month; your caring boyfriend still stopping at nothing to make your life as easy as it can be.

◦ the only difference is that he'd never leave your side for even a second.

◦ he'd be sat beside you stroking your hair, occasionally checking to see if you're in pain or need anything from him.

◦ in the morning he'd ask you what you feel like eating so he can plan out today's meals, always ensuring his baby is happy and well-fed </3

◦ once he notices even a small wince from you, he wastes no time, rushing to grab a hot pack and leaving soothing kisses on your forehead.

★ - "i know it hurts, darling, i'm sorry. i'll take care of it, i promise."

sungchan . . .

◦ your cuddle buddy!

◦ whenever it's that time of the month, really all he wants to do is scoop you up in his arms and hug all of the pain away :( ... which conveniently works!

◦ when you're experiencing cramps, sungchan is always beside you, gently rubbing your tummy. he holds you delicately in his arms as if you'd shatter with too rough of a touch.

◦ his large, warm hands work wonders for your minor cramps and he knows that, so he never stays far from you in case you need him.

◦ but when your cramps are intense, sungchan always feels so sad and helpless :( he frantically researches remedies while you curl up in his lap, crying against his chest.

◦ he wipes your tears and kisses their trails, trying his best to soothe you in any way possible.

★ - "i'm so sorry, princess... the medicine should be kicking in any second now. should we try to take a nap?"

wonbin . . .

◦ a clueless cutie (・・ ) ?

◦ he'd be helplessly sitting beside you, too scared to touch you in fears of hurting you even more.

◦ nevertheless, he'd still be layering you with blankets and googling how to help his suffering gf (he's a loser and you love him!)

◦ in the end, he asks you to tell him whatever it is that you need, but all you want is cuddles and snacks :( so ofc he delivers!

◦ he'd order a bunch of your favorite snacks and find a good movie to watch

◦ would put on a comedy but laughing hurts your stomach so you watch a sappy romance instead, aaaand now he's stuck wiping your tears while you ugly cry over some cliche movie...!

★ - "you're such a crybaby. come here, let me kiss you."

seunghan . . .

◦ the way he treats you when you're on your period alone is already grounds for marriage

◦ seunghan would cater to your every need— buying your hygiene products, running errands, completing house chores, shit maybe even doing homework for you

◦ he just can't see his baby in pain :(

◦ the second you're leaning over in pain, he's running over to hug you probably with tears in his eyes

◦ every little flinch and he's asking if you need to go to the hospital

◦ he's the most caring boy in the world and he'd do anything for you <3

★ - "i'm sorry it hurts so much, angel... but i'm so proud of you, you know that?"

sohee . . .

◦ sohee would wear a stoic and confident act, but the poor boy is just a confused, scared, anxious little dude...

◦ he would be less clingy than the other members but would still travel lengths to make you feel better.

◦ sohee would work on lifting your spirits! he'd love to pick up food from your favorite restaurant and eat with you :3

◦ he'd do anything to make you smile— often ordering frozen yogurt at 2am and watching naruto until sunrise

◦ he knows how excruciating your menstrual cycle is, so he does everything in his power to make you happy even if its just for a split second.

◦ he's just your little ball of sunshine <3

★ - "i know it hurts, pretty girl... how about i order froyo? would that take your mind off of it..?"

anton . . .

◦ GOD SAVE THIS POOR BOY

◦ he is just about as emotionally drained as you are...

◦ every time you'd whine in pain, he'd hold you close to him and cry with you, constantly whispering apologies and comforting words.

◦ he goes out to buy your hygiene products but probably ends up calling you to tell him which one to buy... poor boy is super shy but he reminds himself it's for your girlfriend!

◦ he probably asks you questions about your period so he can become more prepared and knowledgeable, but you're not in the mood to talk so you end up cuddling instead (◡﹏◡)

◦ you lie cuddled up against his chest as he strokes your hair with one hand and rests the other on your lower back, soaking in each others' presence.

★ - "you're so admirable, my love. you're doing so well."

[starkasaaa]

omg I liked your last capitano fic so much🥹🥹 maybe you can do nsfw alphabet with him? thank you:3

Capitano smut alphabet:

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

At first, Capitano leans back against the pillow with a soft groan, trying to catch his ragged breath. His arms are tightly clasped around you, holding you close as he kisses the top of your head. He prefers to just lie quietly with you for a while, and then he’ll carry you to the shower. His favorite thing to do is sit with you in the warm water and gently lather your back with some sweet-smelling gel. He also loves it when you help him wash his hair, the feeling of your soft fingers sliding through his strands is so comfortable that he practically falls asleep every time you do it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

The Captain is the type of man who loves absolutely everything about his woman, but if he had to choose one thing, it would be your tummy. He loves to put his head on your lap and bury his nose in your tummy after long missions. He also likes to run his big and cold fingers over your tummy, teasing you on purpose and not going lower, where you crave his touch the most. He loves when you impatiently grab his hand and put it between your legs, squeezing him tightly there.

In himself, Capitano loves his hands. They are big, strong, and can easily make your legs tremble in 2 minutes, and oh, there is nothing more pleasant for him than to first make you weak from his hands, and then carry you to the bathroom on those same hands.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Capitano is a very responsible man, he will not cum anywhere without your consent. If you want him to be in protection, he will definitely be, but to be honest, doing it inside satisfies him more, but don't worry, Captain is a man who will not run away from responsibility, so if you get pregnant from him, he will only be happy to become a father.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

He is not the type of man who will use girls for one night. He didn't have time to think about relationships before, so I dare to assume that he has no experience. Of course he had little intrigues with women, but it never came to sex.

He does not really know what he is doing, he just does what he thinks is right, closely watching your reaction to know whether things are going well or badly.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Capitano is a pretty simple man, he prefers traditional positions like missionary. He likes to be in control, so being on top suits his nature. He likes to throw your leg over his shoulder to make the angle of penetration even deeper, or to gently hold your hands above your head so that you can't cover your embarrassed face or your mouth.

G = Goofy (are they more serious at the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

At first, he will be very serious. His main goal is to satisfy you. The first few times, he will be serious because of his own inexperience and fear of hurting you, but even as his experience increases, he will not become more relaxed. He is simply not used to showing much emotion, and you will have to talk to him about it, and then he will try to be less serious during this.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Capitano doesn’t see much need for daily shaving, and he doesn’t bother much about it. The hair on his partner's body is also not a problem for him, and if one day you suddenly tell him how tiring it is to shave every day, he will simply raise an eyebrow and look at you blankly.

"-…Then why are you doing it? I mean... Doesn't everyone have hair there..."

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is not the most gentle person, but he tries very hard. Long years of training and battles made him a very closed person who is not used to taking off his tight facade in front of everyone, but he will try to learn to be more romantic. His care and love is more likely to be shown in actions than in words. For example, changing dirty bed linen after you make love, or helping you wash up+ changing you into clean clothes.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He didn’t really do this before, since then any physical intimacy even with himself seemed to him to be something not particularly necessary. But then, as the relationship with you progressed, he realized that this is a pretty good way to relieve tension and it is generally pleasant. So, like any other man, he does it. He just never devotes you to the details of this. It happens that the longing for you during long missions becomes so aching that he has to touch himself, imagining that you are here with him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As I said. Capitano is a simple man, and he prefers to do it traditionally on the bed. He doesn’t really want to risk his status, and just the possibility of being caught in such a position doesn’t really pleasant to him, so doing it at home for him is the best solution.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You don't really have to do anything to get you going. Capitano is always hungry, but he won't admit it. He likes it better when you pull him into bed, because sometimes he finds himself getting turned on too often. It's not that it embarrasses him, it's more that it makes him think he's forcing you, but when you drag him into the bedroom yourself, it turns him on even more.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Something that involves pain. The Captain knows he's big and strong, and the thought of accidentally overdoing it and hurting you while doing it drives him crazy.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

There's nothing more beautiful in the world than the nervous nibbling of your lip and the trembling of your thighs as his tongue deftly circles your sensitive bundle of nerves. The way your thighs squeeze his head between them makes his cock press hard against the fabric of his pants. He throws your leg over his shoulder as his fingers slide from your entrance between your labia, feeling like he could cum just from the look of you needing him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He'll go slow at first, giving you time to get used to the pace. Once you've more or less spread out around him, he'll go harder, but not faster. Capitano prefers sensual sex, trying to enjoy every moment with you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He prefers more full-on sex, with foreplay, a relaxed atmosphere, and the likelihood that he won't be disturbed. But if you're really needy, he won't mind doing it. If he wants it, the Captain will rather wait until you get home.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

The Captain can go as long as he wants. He just never wants to burden you with it too much, so don't try to find out where his limit is. He'll be hungry for you forever.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He's not really into this, but if you bring a toy into the house, he might be willing to try it. He'll probably like handcuffs to finally prevent you from covering your face and mouth during this.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Depends on the situation. Normally, he might be willing to stretch out your pleasure a bit, not letting you cum until he thinks you've asked him nicely enough. But if he's coming home from a long mission, there's no teasing. He's been waiting too long and he needs you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The Captain is quite reserved during this, and the only thing that comes out of his mouth is quiet groans. This is rather because he is not used to being emotional, so he needs time to stop holding it in.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It is quite big and thick. With a bright pink tip. (sorry, I don’t know what else to write here😭)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Before, he didn’t feel any desire for sex at all, and probably the amount of excitement and desire that he feels now is all accumulated over those years when he didn’t experience it, well, or rather didn’t notice it. But now… He feels like a wild animal, especially after a long separation from you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

For Capitano, the most important thing is to make sure that you fall asleep first. He tries to make up for his taciturnity with actions. He will put a glass of water on your nightstand, fluff your pillow so that it is softer, and wrap you in a blanket. He will stroke your back and kiss your forehead until you fall asleep, and only then will he fall asleep himself.

[merakiui]

How do you think Riddle would get into a friends with benefits relationship? Also, how would a relationship with him like that work anyway? Would it be something everyone’s aware of yet refuses to acknowledge? Would his dorm have more respect for you for calming the his tiny tyrant? I feel like ironically he would be a lot calmer around you and it would be a healthy start of a relationship for you two. But I’d like to hear your thoughts please.

I like to imagine Riddle was raised with the idea that you should only date for marriage and that marriage must always be the end goal in a relationship. No such thing as loveless "friends with benefits" or flimsy "situationships." Very traditional ideals ingrained in his head, courtesy of Mama Rosehearts. >_< so it's baffling to him when he's at NRC and learns about all kinds of different relationships. Hook-ups, fwb, complicated situationships, rebounds... there's just so much to keep track of and it's all so new.

Maybe it starts from a drunken mishap. Of course there's going to be alcohol at college parties, whether on campus or off campus. Maybe it's Deuce who mixes up the drinks and hands Riddle something alcoholic, or maybe Riddle himself decides he'll have alcohol that night. Maybe the two of you share a few kisses and some wandering hands in the corridor. Or maybe the two of you regularly spent time together and one thing led to another and... :) either way, there's a physical shift in your relationship together and Riddle isn't the type to let things hang up in the air.

Perhaps it's just for stress relief and pleasure. Nothing more. And perhaps it's curiosity or chemistry or something, but it doesn't sound terrible. It's Riddle's first time in this sort of relationship, but he won't deny that what the two of you did was enjoyable, even if you were both mutually intoxicated to remember most of it. ^^;;; regardless, so long as you're comfortable and okay with this, he wouldn't mind turning this into something. He's not sure how he's meant to feel when you say everything is no commitment and that you're just friends and that all of this is just casual. Riddle is a very committed guy who is so far from casual even though he's trying his best to be more lenient with himself and everything in his life. But those words are the best ways to describe all of this. Perhaps it's why he adds "no kissing" to the list of rules because kissing is a very romantic thing to him.

He's very meticulous, so naturally he makes sure to establish clear boundaries and rules. You go over what's on the table and what's a no-go. What the expectations (or lack thereof) should be. And for the first time in his life he's echoing the complete opposite of what his mother would lecture him about. No marriage. No dating. No romance. Just sex. It's friendship, but with benefits (as the name implies).

Funnily enough, I feel like he tries to set aside time for these things, but then who pencils into their schedule when they're going to have sex??? T_T maybe it's all spontaneous and impulsive, and at first it's a huge shift from what he's used to. But it's fun. He's never experienced anything like this before and you're just so...perfect. You're everything.

You'll witness new sides to Riddle the longer you spend with him, getting to know the guy beneath all of the stringent rules. Your friendship definitely strengthens during the times you spend with him, and Riddle is trying not to expect anything. Why would you or he stick around after sex? And why should he fret over his appearance and what he wears when you decide to go into town together? It's not a date. It's not romance. It's just sex. He has to remind himself of this when the two of you wake up curled into each other. That's just...biology. The human body needs warmth when it's cold. That's just normal. Aaaaa he's falling and he's not sure he can stay strictly casual and no commitment anymore.

As for who knows,,,, definitely Trey and Cater. Riddle goes to Trey about all kinds of stuff because they're friends and Trey is a good voice of reason, and it doesn't take a genius to understand what's happening. Trey won't say it outright, but he does try to poke at the issue to gauge where Riddle stands: "Well, if you like (Name) so much, what do you have to lose?" And poor Riddle is so frazzled because everything, Trey, he could lose everything if you don't feel the same way!!!! And Cater's been knowing LOL. He probably knew the day of the party that there was a vibe. >:)

There are so many hurdles and bumps to your relationship, but I do think it's very sweet if and when you and Riddle officially become a couple. And if not,,, perhaps Heartslabyul can push the two of you together because you're just the cutest, most cammable pair on campus right now (Cater's words). <3

[nativegirltapes]

boyfriend headcanons . . . . featuring drew starkey !

notes: hcs for boyfie >.< i'll probably do a part 2 bc there's so much you can cover doing boyfriend hcs lol. not proofread bc i am lazy. these are all kinda random idk.

sfw

sweetest boyfriend ever! he’s genuinely just too kind for his own good. he pays attention to the little things, listens to you, spoils you rotten, is constantly complimenting you, and never lets his love for you go unheard. you didn’t think it was possible for boyfriend like drew to exist until you met him.

whenever asked about you in interviews he gets all smiley and flustered. doesn’t matter if you’ve been together for a year or for 17 years, he’s still cheesing and talking about you like you’re the only woman to ever exist.

he loves staying in and reading books. i can see him helping you broaden your horizons when it comes to reading. he’ll buy you both a copy of a book he’s been itching to read and he’ll let you read it at your own pace but he’s constantly asking questions about how far you are in it and what you think.

drew is soooo secretly clingy. everyone knows he loves physical touch and being around his loved ones, but they don’t realize how ‘bad’ it really is. he’s literally a big baby in a 6’4 beefy mans body. when you’re getting up in the morning he’s the type to say “no, don’t leave yet. just a few more minutes.” and yank you back into bed and kiss every crevice of your body. or he’ll always want his arms around your waist, he just loves holding you and making you feel safe because you make him feel safe too.

drew has no problem taking on the more "womanly roles", he loves cooking, cleaning and doing really any household chores for you. he's such a good cook, sometimes you'll come home to the best pasta of your life. he loves making sure you're fed asf and healthy!

he's so supportive of literally everything you do! he'll always hear you out on everything, even things you think are "stupid" or "not good ideas". if you want to pursue something, he's always the first person backing you up.

nsfw

he can man handle you like it's nothing. whenever you're teasing him he'll just pick you up and take you to his room and throw you on the bed, and you're just giggling the whole way there.

size kink. more for you than him...... but you love how big he is compared to you. his big arms, big back, big hands, his height. just standing next to him having him basically hovering over you is enough to get you going.

drew is soooo sweet in bed, he really takes his time with you. foreplay is huge for the both of you; kissing, heavy petting, dry humping. he's so playful and just wants the experienced to be fun and feel good for the both of you. obviously drew loves sex, but I don't think he sees it as something he necessarily needs, but moreso is just happy he gets to experience, especially with you. if that makes sense, he's just happy he gets to be with someone who makes him feel good and thinks he's sexy. and obviously vice verse, he's happy he gets to make you feel good and thinks you're the sexiest woman alive.

he loves to experiment. if you're ever down to try something new, so is he! he makes your relationship such a comfortable space to share and talk about new things you want to try.

[crobones]

I know Evan's love is toxic. He loves his friends so much that, when they divulge how bad they're feeling - about themselves, about the world around them, about whatever situation they're all stuck in - as opposed to processing these feelings and moving through them to learn and grow, he's like "Nope! Nonstarter, you're amazing and we all love you."

He mentioned it on day one. "There's nothing pleasant in rest." It is a survival tactic. Self-preservation in never staying in one place too long.

But the thing about processing emotions fully is you have to kind of just... sit in it. You need to acknowledge how you feel, understand that dealing with it cannot be avoided or rushed, and take a second to just... stew in it. You can't speedrun every issue in life. And you can't mentslly look at a feeling, point at it, name it, put it to the side, and move on. That's just sweeping the mess under the rug instead of actually cleaning it up.

He's getting close to actually learning how to process emotions, and you can see that when he talks to Sam. But he experienced feeling good all of one time, and decided he never wanted to feel any of his previous sadness ever again. It's an unfortunate trauma response - you tell a person some shit that happened to you and expect them to compartmentalize it just like you did. "Yeah, I got stabbed, but it's fine. Don't worry about it."

It's K's conversation with Tabby about Evan. But, unfortunately, K saw this behaviour in Evan and decided they could fix it for him. But now they realize that that isn't feasible. You can't clean a person's house for them - it's their personal and intimate space and you don't know where everything goes and what's more important to them. Not to mention, it takes away their agency. They dint get to learn how to deal with shit if you just fix it for them.

That's what Evan's doing. Tape shapes aside, he doesn't clean the emotional bullshit, he dumps it all into boxes, throws label on it, and puts it nearly on the pile of a thousand other boxes.

And when Jammer, or Sam, or K gets personal and lets him into their house, well. He wants to be useful. He's looking at the mess, thinks it's a non-issue, throws it in a box for them, and starts a pile. But, they shouldn't worry, he can listen to them describe what the mess is, and he'll put a label on the box for them.

Am I making sense? All of this is dismissive asshole behaviour, but they all know it's well intentioned. They do love each other. The first time he experienced a positive interpersonal interaction, he didn't want to give it up.

Now that they're back, he knows the adventure will come to an end, and that terrifies him. But he's been so task-oriented all his life, any time there's emotions to deal with, he boxes it and puts it aside.

I NEED HIM TO TURN HEEL. IF HE WANTS THE ADVENTURE TO GO ON FOREVER, I'M SURE HE COULD EASILY BECOME THE BAD GUY THEY NEED TO STICK AROUND; TO KEEP THE JOURNEY GOING. BREAK THAT FUCKING WELL, EVAN. NO HESITATION, NO EASING THE WORLD INTO IT - SMASH IT TO BITS ON SIGHT. SUBMIT THE WORLD TO CHAOS.

And what has Sam done every time? She's talked some fucking sense into them. And, well. She's already got a direct line to Evan's most intimate self. They've been in each other's head, they've had their souls entwined with one another. He sees her as the best wizard in the world. What better way to stop Evan from diving head first into the role he's always been afraid of becoming, than making him come to heel and to get his shit together?

[atopvisenyashill]

@amethyinst wait let’s TALK ABOUT IT bc everything you’re saying is CORRECT and OBVIOUS, and i wasn’t expecting it to be SO OBVIOUS and YET i feel like it gets really glossed over!

the “harsh journey across barren wasteland” thing is practically jumping off the page here, down to bran losing rickon & osha early in the journey and dany losing doreah early in hers, & the kicking off point being a fight between several factions of what’s left of drogo’s khalasar & dany’s, and the final sack of Winterfell being this kind of three way issue between what’s left of the iron islanders, the stark loyalists theon left alive, & ramsay. dany & bran really escape death here through like, oodles of luck and quick thinking from the people around them.

but ALSO you have dany currently on the dothraki sea and bran in the far north, and both of them are just kind of looking away when meat of a questionable source is given to them. and i think there’s something more here, in that dany shows up to qarth & it’s an oasis in the sea, only every door is shut in her face and the warlocks are there ~lurking. meanwhile you have bran showing up to the far north hoping for a miracle cure to his legs and to get all the magical answers he seeks only to get some very shitty answers from the cotf while bloodraven is ~lurking. this is why i think there’s a chance bran is leaving the cave p quickly in twow - like dany in the dothraki sea, he’s going to have an extended journey where it’s just him (and maybe Summer) using his warging abilities and trying to get his body to the wall. probably doing a lot of reflecting, and possibly learning the wrong lesson as he reflects!

and there’s a lot between hotu & the cave too - learning the old gods are just greenseers, seeing with his own eyes that the first men sacrificed people to fuel their magic, seeing his father talking about jon, seeing lyanna & benjen spar. meanwhile dany is having visions that include her brother talking about tptwp, her father yelling to burn everyone,and the “false wizards” who try to trick her. both of them being shown but not quite processing that all their visions are linked to their own history. there’s the elusive, suspicious way the warlocks & quaithe speak with dany, always in riddles, and bloodraven is equally suspicious and cagey. but they’re both learning, they’re both progressing in their magic, and they’re both really struggling with placing where ~the line is morally when it comes to how they use their magic - but look at their mentors lmao, they have the world’s shadiest teachers.

and YEAH everyone loves to talk about the targaryen connection & jon and dany both being born towards the end of the rebellion, but i think it’s glossed over that both dany & bran are kinda In The Shit when their parents get murdered during a succession war and have to go underground or get killed. dany’s fondest memories are the ones from when she’s bran’s age and younger, with willem darry there to care for her (like the ONLY capable adult she ever interacts with 😭). and you have osha, who like willem darry isn’t really a sworn sword type, they’re just very loyal people who were close at hand and did what they could for the children in their care. there’s something that links them when it comes to, idk exactly how to phrase it, but physical trauma & their magic coming in, basically. both of their childhoods whittling their support systems down until they’re alone - only when they’ve experienced physical traumas & lost everything can they access magic on a stronger scale. and the fact that they both reach for it sooo readily! jon doesn’t want anything to do with it, he’s spent nearly every book actively running from it, but dany and bran turn right into the arms of their magic as a refuge.

they’re also just both clearly the prophecy children lol no offense to jon (or tyrion for that matter) but i think even IF jon or tyrion or aegon (or euron 💀) manage to get a dragon, the capital p Prophecy Children are dany & bran as the last dragon and the last greenseer. and they’re so much THERE too - bran looks like an andal & dreamt more ~andal-ish dreams but inherits the legacy of the first men’s magic after being disabled and socially de masculinized bc of that disability, while dany looks a consummate valyrian but she’s a girl and inherits the mantle of last dragon after every man in her line fails. everyone wants to be THEM but they are the only ones capable of that power - and that’s a good thing but also a very bad thing.