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gf2bellamy · 1 day ago

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enough — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you don't think you're enough for spencer content warnings: mention of working on a case, feelings of insecurity / not feeling good enough, spencer and reader argue , alot of angst ( pretty much all of it) a/n: currently sick in bed :( hope you guys like this <3

You knew Spencer Reid had feelings for you. It wasn’t exactly a well-kept secret. In fact, everyone on the team seemed to know—how could they not?

The way his gaze lingered on you just a fraction longer than anyone else, the way his words stumbled over themselves when you caught him off guard, the subtle softness in his voice when he said your name.

Spencer was careful, meticulous in everything he did, but when it came to you, his emotions were a little too obvious.

There were the small, thoughtful gestures—the extra cup of coffee waiting on your desk when you’d been up late on a case, or the way he always seemed to know exactly when you needed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

Then there were the bigger things, like how he always volunteered to partner with you in the field, or how he fiercely defended your theories in meetings, even when they weren't perfect.

But maybe the most telling sign of all was the way Spencer looked at you.

Like you were the only thing in the room worth noticing.

It was like he was memorizing every detail of your face, committing you to the library of his mind. And every time he looked at you like that, a warmth bloomed in your chest—a warmth you weren’t quite ready to name, but one that you felt more often than you cared to admit.

Penelope had asked you multiple times about the situation, her curiosity impossible to suppress. “So, when are you and Boy Genius making it official?” she’d tease, wiggling her eyebrows and leaning across your desk.

Each time, you laughed it off or deflected with a joke. “What are you talking about, Pen? Spencer and I are just friends,” you’d insist, even though the words felt more and more like a lie with every passing day.

Pretending to be oblivious to Spencer’s feelings had once been easy. A flick of the wrist, a casual smile—it had been enough to convince everyone, including yourself, that you were completely unaware. But lately, it was getting harder.

Much harder.

Because now, every time you caught him staring at you, every time his fingers brushed yours while passing a file, every time he leaned in just a little too close when he explained something in that excited, rambling way of his, you felt it. That same warmth in your chest, that same ache you’d been trying so hard to ignore.

The truth was, you weren’t just aware of Spencer’s feelings for you.

You also felt the same way.

Your fingers tapped absently against your desk, a sound that seemed to echo in the quiet bullpen. Your eyes were unfocused, fixed on nothing in particular, as your thoughts wandered far from the case files scattered in front of you.

Across from your desk, Spencer was watching you. He tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing in concern as he debated whether or not to say something.

“Are you okay?” His soft voice cut through the quiet, pulling you back to the present.

“Huh?” You jumped slightly, your hand pausing mid-tap as your head whipped around to face him. Your wide eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you added quickly, your words rushing out.

Spencer didn’t look convinced. He leaned forward just a little, resting his elbows on the edge of his desk as his gaze searched yours. “You seemed... distracted,” he said carefully.

You laughed nervously, waving a hand as if to brush off his concern. “Just zoning out. It’s been a long day.”

Spencer didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stared at you for a while, his hazel eyes soft but searching, like he could see through the thin veil of your words.

The weight of his gaze made your pulse quicken, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.

“I’ll be right back,” you blurted suddenly, pushing your chair back. Without waiting for a response, you rushed out of the bullpen, your footsteps echoing down the hallway until you reached the bathroom.

Inside, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding and stepped into the nearest stall, closing the door behind you. Sitting down on the closed toilet lid, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands.

It wasn’t the first time you’d run away like this. You weren’t proud of it, but sometimes it felt easier to escape than to face the thoughts that clawed their way to the surface when Spencer was near.

People might call you stupid.

Stupid for ignoring the feelings of someone so gentle and sweet.

Stupid for pretending not to notice how much he cared for you, how much he had done for you.

Stupid for not taking the first step when it was obvious to everyone, including you, that Spencer Reid had feelings for you.

But it wasn’t just Spencer’s feelings, was it? No, the truth was much harder to ignore now: you had feelings for him, too.

And yet, here you were, hiding in a bathroom stall, running away from everything.

The reason felt silly—childish, even—but it was there, and it was real.

You were scared.

Scared that if you took that step, if you let yourself fall into the warmth of what Spencer was offering, you’d ruin him.

Spencer, who was so sweet and intelligent, so thoughtful and patient. He was everything good in this world, and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d taint him with your flaws, your insecurities.

You didn’t think you were enough for him.

The thought sat heavy in your chest, and no matter how much you tried to push it down, it always came back.

Spencer deserved someone extraordinary, someone brilliant and perfect—someone who wasn’t you.

Before you could stop it, a tear slipped down your cheek.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you almost didn’t hear the bathroom door creak open.

A familiar, soft voice called out your name.

You quickly straightened up, dabbing at your cheeks with trembling fingers, but it was no use. The tears had already left their mark.

You opened the stall door cautiously, revealing Penelope standing there in all her vibrant glory. Her floral skirt swirled around her knees, and her cardigan was adorned with her signature pins and patches.

Her warm, concerned eyes locked onto yours the moment the door swung open.

“There you are,” she said gently, a small smile playing on her lips as she tilted her head. “Spence sent me to check on you. He’s worried.”

Of course he did. The thought made your chest tighten.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the obvious evidence of tears. But Penelope wasn’t one to be fooled, especially not by you.

She raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Sweetheart, you’re standing in a bathroom stall looking like you just had a tearful heart-to-heart with yourself, so forgive me if I don’t take ‘I’m fine’ at face value.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out shaky and weak. “It’s just... been a long day.”

Penelope crossed her arms, giving you that patient, knowing look that only she could manage. “I know there’s more to it than that. Spence wasn’t just worried about you zoning out—he was worried about you. And judging by those red eyes, I’m guessing he’s not wrong for being worried.”

You sighed, leaning against the stall door for support. “It’s nothing, Pen. Really.”

Penelope softened, she placed a comforting hand on your arm. “If it’s nothing, why were you crying?”

For a moment, you considered brushing her off again, but something about her warmth, her openness, made you pause.

Maybe it was because she was Penelope, the team’s heart and soul, or maybe it was because a part of you was tired of holding it all in.

“It’s... about Spencer,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Penelope’s eyes lit up in understanding, and a soft smile crept across her face. “Oh, honey. Tell me everything.”

You let out a shaky breath, walking over to the sink and staring at your reflection. The person looking back at you seemed fragile, her emotions etched plainly on her face.

Penelope followed, standing beside you, her vibrant presence grounding you as she waited patiently for you to speak.

“I have feelings for Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the bathroom’s fluorescent lights.

Penelope didn’t gasp or exclaim. She simply tilted her head and nodded, her soft smile growing into something more knowing, like she’d been waiting for you to admit it.

“I figured as much,” she said gently, her tone free of judgment. “But what’s got you hiding out in here instead of doing something about it?”

You met her eyes in the mirror, hesitating for a moment before answering. “Because I’m scared, Penelope.” Your fingers gripped the edge of the sink tightly. “I mean, he’s Spencer. He’s brilliant and kind. He deserves someone amazing, someone who can keep up with him. I just—I don’t think I’m enough for him.”

Penelope frowned, her brows knitting together as she turned to face you fully. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. First of all, I am going to stop you right there, missy. You are more than enough for anyone, especially Spencer Reid. Don’t even try to argue with me on that.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but she held up a finger to silence you.

“Second,” she continued, her voice firm but still warm, “have you met Spencer? That man practically worships the ground you walk on. Do you know how rare that is? To have someone like Spencer look at you the way he does? Trust me, sweetie, he doesn’t see anyone else but you.”

You blinked, Penelope’s words hitting you harder than you expected. “But what if I mess it up? What if I ruin everything?”

“Sweetheart,” Penelope said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “life is messy. Love is messy. But if you keep letting that fear hold you back, you’re going to miss out on something incredible. Spencer wants you. Not someone perfect, not someone else. You.”

Her words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. For a moment, all you could do was stare at her, overwhelmed by her kindness and sincerity.

“Thank you, Penelope,” you whispered, your voice soft and earnest.

She gave you a bright, reassuring smile, squeezing your arm gently. “Don’t stay here too long, okay? Boy Genius is worried about you, and you know how he gets when he’s worried.”

You managed a small smile, nodding as she opened the bathroom door. “I’ll be out soon.”

“Good,” she said with a wink, stepping out into the hallway. The door swung shut behind her, leaving you alone once again.

You turned back to the mirror, your reflection staring back at you with the same doubts you’d walked in with. Penelope’s words were honest, comforting, and so full of truth that they made your chest ache. And yet... the doubts didn’t leave.

They stayed.

What if Penelope was wrong? What if you tried, and it all came crashing down, leaving your friendship in ruins?

You pressed your lips together, inhaling a shaky breath. There was a part of you—a small, fragile part—that wanted to believe Penelope.

But the larger, louder part of you couldn’t let go of the fear.

“Get it together,” you muttered to yourself, gripping the sink tightly.

You couldn’t stay in this bathroom forever, hiding from the man waiting for you outside.

The man who cared enough to send someone after you when you disappeared.

The man who had always been there, quietly offering you the kind of unconditional support you never thought you deserved.

And yet, your feet felt like they were cemented to the floor.

The days that followed felt heavier, even after Penelope’s heartfelt pep talk. Her words lingered in your mind like an echo, but they weren’t enough to silence the whirlwind of emotions.

Everything seemed harder now that you’d acknowledged your feelings—now that you couldn’t hide from the truth.

Sometimes, it felt like your heart was about to burst with how much love you held for Spencer.

You’d catch yourself staring at him across the bullpen, watching the way his lips moved as he explained something in that fast, excitable way of his, or the way his fingers traced invisible patterns on the edge of a file when he was deep in thought.

And then there were the moments when you were near him—too near. Your hands would tremble when they brushed his by accident, or your breath would hitch when his cologne lingered in the air between you.

But you didn’t do anything about it.

You convinced yourself it was for the best, that keeping things the way they were was safer. You couldn’t risk crossing that line and ruining the friendship you’d come to treasure so much.

Still, there were cracks in your resolve.

You weren’t sure how long you could keep this up—pretending you didn’t feel what you felt, pretending you didn’t want to close the gap between you and let yourself fall.

One day, the tension came to a head while you and Spencer were working on the geographic profile to catch an unsub. The bullpen was unusually quiet, the rest of the team out gathering leads.

It was just the two of you, standing side by side in front of the board, the scent of coffee and marker ink filling the air.

You reached for the same photo pinned to the board—a shot of a potential target area—and your fingers brushed his.

It was barely a touch, but it sent a jolt up your arm, and you immediately pulled back as if burned.

“Sorry,” you mumbled quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. You avoided his gaze, letting him take the picture as you stepped back. Not just one step—several, putting unnecessary distance between the two of you.

Spencer hesitated, holding the picture in his hand as his eyes flicked to you. His brows furrowed slightly, concern shadowing his expression as he noticed how much space you’d suddenly created between you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and careful, like he was afraid of startling you.

Your throat tightened. “I’m fine,” you said, the words automatic and unconvincing.

Spencer wasn’t buying it. He tilted his head, his gaze searching yours in that way that always made you feel like he could see right through you.

“You’ve been... distant,” he said, his tone gentle. “Not just today, but for a while now.”

You froze, your heartbeat quickening. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said, even though the words felt hollow in your mouth.

He stepped closer, closing some of the space you’d put between you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. “If I did, I—I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be around me.”

Your chest tightened painfully at the vulnerability in his voice. The idea that he thought he had done something wrong, that he might blame himself for the distance you’d created, made your stomach twist with guilt.

“No, Spencer,” you said quickly, shaking your head. "It's just work has been getting to me.”

You turned away quickly, pretending to focus on the map pinned to the board. Your heart hammered in your chest as you felt Spencer’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer before he finally turned back to his own work.

He let it go—for now.

Later that evening, you were back in your hotel room, sprawled on the bed with the TV remote in hand. The case was successfully closed, the unsub in custody, but the team had decided to stay one more night before flying home.

You flipped aimlessly through the channels, barely registering the images flashing on the screen. Nothing held your attention for more than a few seconds, and the quiet hum of the TV did little to drown out your thoughts.

With a loud yawn, you tossed the remote aside, letting it land on the bed. You leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling.

Then came a knock at your door.

Slowly, you got up, smoothing down your clothes as you walked to the door.

When you opened it, your breath caught.

Spencer stood there, hands in his pockets, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination. He was still in his dress shirt and slacks, his tie loosened just enough to suggest he’d been pacing or thinking too much, as he often did.

His hazel eyes met yours, and you saw a flicker of hesitation before he finally spoke.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice gentle but steady.

“Spencer?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

“I—I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice laced with hesitation. He shifted his weight nervously, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. “Can I come in?”

You stared at him, your heart racing as you tried to decipher the look in his eyes. Finally, you nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

As the door clicked shut behind him, you took a couple of deep breaths, trying to prepare yourself for whatever he wanted to talk about.

Turning back around, you walked a few steps toward him, stopping just a short distance away. You were close enough to notice the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the tension in his posture as he stood there, clearly working through whatever thoughts were racing in his mind.

You found yourself fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, your fingers twisting and untwisting the fabric as you waited for him to speak.

Finally, Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes meeting yours. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “And I know I’ve been overthinking it, probably more than I should. But I—I couldn’t keep waiting.”

Your fingers stilled, your breath catching as his words hung in the air.

“I’ve noticed you pulling away,” he continued, his brows furrowing slightly. “And I’ve been trying to tell myself that maybe I was imagining it, but... I don’t think I am.” He paused, his gaze searching yours. “Are you sure I didn't do something wrong? Because if I did, I’ll fix it—I want to fix it.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, guilt and affection warring within you. “No, Spencer,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He looked relieved for a moment, but the tension didn’t fully leave his face. “Then what is it? Because I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

His honesty was disarming, his vulnerability leaving you with nowhere to hide. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, the words caught in your throat.

“It’s... complicated,” you finally managed, your voice barely audible.

Silence stretched out between you, thick and heavy. Spencer stood still, watching you intently, as if trying to piece together a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. His gaze flicked to your hands, noticing how they still fidgeted nervously with your clothes.

And then he spoke.

“I’m in love with you,” he said, the words falling from his lips so suddenly and so earnestly that they cut through the air like a blade.

Your hands stilled immediately, your breath hitching as you raised your head to meet his eyes. The room seemed to shrink around you, everything else fading into the background as his words echoed in your ears.

You hadn’t expected him to say it. Not like that. Not so bluntly, with no preamble or hesitation. And now, faced with the weight of his confession, you found yourself frozen, unsure of what to do or say.

Spencer’s eyes darted nervously, meeting yours and then flicking away before returning.

He was waiting—for your answer, your reaction, anything.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, your mind racing too fast to form a coherent response.

The silence stretched on, and you saw something shift in his expression. Disappointment.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice tight, the hurt evident as he took a small step back. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Stop,” you said, shaking your head, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Spencer froze, his eyes wide and uncertain as he looked at you.

“Don’t apologize,” you said softly, your voice trembling but resolute. You took a shaky breath.

You weren’t sure what to say to him, honestly. It was like your heart was trying to escape from your chest, but the words just wouldn’t come out.

You looked at Spencer, his hair falling into his face just the way it always did when he was anxious or lost in thought. You had this overwhelming urge to reach out, to gently push his hair back behind his ear, but you didn’t.

Instead, you just stood there, staring at him, feeling more unsure than ever.

"Spence, look, I—" you started, your voice faltering as you tried to gather your thoughts.

His eyes were fixed on yours, waiting. He was so patient, so willing, and it made your chest tighten even more. You tried again, your words tumbling out as you fought to explain.

“I didn’t want to mess things up with you. I’ve been scared that if I told you how I feel, it would ruin everything. Because... you deserve someone better than me, Spencer. You deserve someone who can give you the world, who can keep up with you... not someone like me.”

You caught yourself, blinking rapidly as the words tumbled out of you, not sure if you were even making sense anymore.

But it was like you couldn’t stop.

“I’ll ruin you, Spencer. I’ll drag you into my mess, and you’ll wake up one day and realize you could’ve had someone better. Someone who doesn’t second-guess every little thing or put up walls because they’re too scared to let anyone in.”

“That’s not how I see you,” Spencer said, his voice soft as he took a step closer to you. “You’re not a mess. You’re not some burden I’d have to carry. You’re—”

“Stop,” you cut him off, shaking your head as tears pricked at your eyes. “You don’t get it. You think I’m this... this version of me that you’ve built up in your head, but I’m not that person. I’m not perfect. I’m not enough.”

“Stop saying that!” His voice rose slightly, the frustration finally breaking through. You looked at him, startled, as he ran a hand through his hair. “You keep telling me what I should feel, what I deserve, like you get to decide that for me. But you don’t. I know what I want, and it’s you.”

“Spencer—”

“No, let me finish,” he said, stepping closer. “I don’t care about perfect, okay? I don’t care about whatever doubts you have about yourself, because none of that changes the fact that I love you. I love you for you, not some idealized version. And if you think for one second that I’m going to stand here and let you push me away because of some fear that you’re not ‘enough,’ then you don’t know me as well as I thought.”

His words hit you like a wave, but instead of feeling comforted, you felt overwhelmed. The emotions swirling between you both—the love, the fear, the frustration—felt like too much all at once.

“You’re not listening to me,” you said, your voice rising. “You think this is just me being insecure, but it’s not. This is me being realistic. You deserve someone who doesn’t bring you down, someone who doesn’t doubt themselves every time they look in the mirror.”

Spencer’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You’re the one bringing yourself down, not me. You’re the one who thinks you’re not good enough, but that’s not the truth. It’s your fear talking, not reality.”

“And maybe my fear is right,” you shot back, your voice cracking. “Maybe it’s telling me what I already know—that you’re too good for me, and I can’t be what you need.”

He stared at you, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath. “You think you’re protecting me by pushing me away, but you’re not. You’re just hurting both of us,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like this—like I’m not alone. Like I’m more than just... me. And I’m not going to let you stand there and tell me you’re not enough.”

The room felt suffocating, the tension between you crackling like a live wire.

But still, the doubt clung to you, thick and unrelenting. “Spencer, I just... I can’t,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His shoulders slumped slightly, the frustration in his eyes giving way to something softer—something sad. “I don’t know how to convince you,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with defeat. “But I can’t force you to believe me.”

For a moment, he just stood there, silent and still, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“I don’t know what else to say,” he finally murmured, his voice low and filled with a quiet hurt that made your chest ache.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. You felt paralyzed, the fear and doubt swirling inside you.

Spencer looked back up at you, his hazel eyes searching yours one last time, as if hoping to find something—anything—that might give him a reason to stay.

When he didn’t, a faint, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Goodnight,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

And then he turned, walking toward the door with a heaviness in his steps that you’d never seen before.

Your heart twisted as you watched him reach for the handle, every fiber of your being screaming at you to stop him, to say something, to fix this.

But the words refused to come.

Spencer paused for a fraction of a second as he opened the door, his back to you. It felt like time stood still. Then he stepped out, quietly closing the door behind him.

The sound of the latch clicking into place was deafening.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, staring at the closed door, your chest tight and your head spinning. The room felt unbearably empty without him.

And yet, you didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Instead, you sank onto the edge of the bed, burying your face in your hands as the tears you’d been holding back finally broke free.

You didn’t know what hurt more—the fear that you’d pushed him away for good or the possibility that you’d been wrong about everything.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x you

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mx-post-stuffs · 3 days ago

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genuienly tho how do i not be suicidal if everywhere on internet i go say "oh btw you are gonna be illegal and you can't do anything about it." like I don't care if you go "haha don't care about being illegal be queer do crime!" or "be genderfuck fuck the law" "dw you're valid no matter what" i don't know, I would like to be safe. I know in south korea I'm already not recognized as human being or trans individual to begin so going to america is not gonna be so different. but damn, it seem there is no hope and i'm gonna be dead day one in US. And I should give up my dream to be with who I love because of that trump dude. And I already don't have hope of future in where I live so fuck you you better die. My parents not gonna hold my funeral lol. Is there any hope. Like I know it's not gonna be much different in SK and US for me cuz both legally don't recognize me as woman and shit. But still.

edit to add more cuz I need to point out that my partner lives in US. And we are committed to it. And he can't leave the country as he will lose every benefit as he said if he leave US. And he live on disable income. So I Know every other safer country. I can't go there.

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bumblesimagines · 2 days ago

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Imagine:

Seeing Serena again

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical Gossip Girl spoilers, mentions of cheating and betrayal, Serena get a damn grip

~~~

"Is breakfast almost ready, Patty?"

"Almost, Mr. (L/N). We'll have everything set and ready in a few minutes."

The smell of freshly cooked pancakes wafted through the air, merging with the vanilla-scented candles the maids always lit around the penthouse to appease his mother. He raised his cup of coffee to his lips and carefully drank the hot liquid, the tip of his tongue still tingling from drinking it too quickly. His eyes roamed over the view as he watched the city come to life with the rising sun.

The elevator dinging echoed into the room and his brows furrowed at the sound, his head craning over his shoulder to look at the equally confused maid. "Is my mother expecting guests?" He asked and set his coffee at the table, but Patty shook her head firmly.

"No, sir, I don't believe so. Her meetings start at 1:30."

Humming softly, (Y/N) slipped his hands into the soft pockets of his pajama pants and strode out of the dining room, his ears faintly picking up murmuring from one of the servants greeting their guest.

He failed to think of anyone who'd be visiting them at such an early hour unless it was a work emergency and his mother hadn't been picking up her phone. Besides, he'd long ditched the one person he often drove to school with.

He rounded the corner and halted, instinctively shaking in a sharp inhale at the sight of the tall blonde standing in front of the shiny elevator doors. She smiled at one of the maids and dismissed her offer of taking her coat or providing her with a drink with a small shake of her head, the smile remaining on her face until she noticed his frozen figure. Her lips parted with surprise before spreading into a sheepish line. She always looked so damn sheepish.

"Hey, (Y/N)." Serena greeted softly, the heels of her boots clicking against the tile as she crossed the room toward him. His eyes flickered toward the grand stairs behind her leading up to the bedrooms and his chest constricted. This wasn't good. Not in the slightest. "It's... it's good to see you." She said and lifted her arms for a hug.

"Don't."

Had it been any time in the past couple of years, he would've happily sank into her embrace and lifted her into his arms for a kiss, savoring her gleeful laughter while she swung her legs around him. The hurt that flashed over her features would've made his chest heavy with guilt and an eagerness to remedy it through any means, but instead of the warmth and love he once felt spread through his body like a forest fire at the sight of her.. he felt nothing but bitter resentment.

He couldn't even bear to look at her, to gaze into the striking blue eyes that he had so often complimented or her golden hair that always seemed to effortlessly fall over her shoulders no matter what she did.

"I.." Serena's arms fell to her sides and she frowned, her eyes lowering to stare at the floor like a scolded child. "I know I messed up. I shouldn't have left without telling you where I was going-"

"No, no," (Y/N) scoffed and took a step back from the blonde, the smell of her perfume alone making him sick to his stomach. Warm and sweet with notes of cinnamon and orange blossom, everything he once associated with her. He recognized it immediately; how could he not when it was the same one he gifted her for their anniversary? The delighted gasp she'd released when she smelled it for the first time rang in his ears. "I don't care that you went to boarding school, Serena, or that you needed to get away from life here."

Serena's brows twitched and began to slowly crease, her blatant confusion only adding to the nausea forming in the pit of his stomach. Irritation struck him like a lightning bolt, sudden and consuming. How could she possibly look so lost? So innocent? As if she were being accused of a crime she hadn't committed. "I thought you were mad because.. because I left without saying anything. I mean, it's been a year and-"

"I don't give a shit about that, Serena." She blinked, still confused. He wanted to strangle her. "Nate Archibald, Serena. You fucked Nate Archibald, my best friend, behind my back and then ran away like a coward because you love running away from your problems."

Serena flinched and staggered backward as if she'd been struck, her eyes widening into near saucers and breath rapidly escaping her lungs. Betrayal flashed in her eyes. "He- He told you?" Disbelief caked her shaky words.

He gave a bitter, short laugh despite the emotions welling up in his chest. "No, he didn't. I had to learn what the two of you did through Chuck Bass. Do you know what it's like having to look that sleazebag in the eye while he tells you your girlfriend of three years fucked the guy you've known since diapers because he loves making people miserable? It was humiliating."

"I'm so sorry." She exhaled, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingertips flew to her mouth which soon began to quiver while her eyes glistened with incoming tears that almost made his eyes roll. He didn't have time for her pity party, didn't have space for it in his life anymore. He didn't have space for her. Her voice cracked when she spoke, "I- We- I was drunk and we didn't know what we were doing. I swear it meant nothing. I would never hurt you-"

"But you did, Serena. Don't pretend you're innocent or that you made a mistake-"

"It was a mistake!"

"Oh, right, his dick just happened to slip inside you, right?"

Serena gaped at him. "(Y/N)!"

Her high-pitched voice bounced off the walls, drenched in pure shock. Her mouth moved with silent words, leaving her looking like a fish out of water gasping for air. It wasn't often Serena was left speechless, that was something he attributed to her mother more than anything. Serena had a real talent for rendering her mother silent with a few accusatory sneers. The hint of exhaustion on Lily's face whenever she gazed at her daughter finally made sense to (Y/N).

"I'm sorry, okay? I-.. I really, really, am." Her shoulders drooped with a sigh and she took three steps toward him, her tote bag swinging and lightly hitting her thigh with each movement. She reached out and gently placed her hand over his arm, her eyes watching him pleadingly. "I was going to tell you, I promise, I... I just needed time to get myself together. I know I messed up. I should've never drunk as much as I did and I definitely shouldn't have slept with Nate. Please... forgive me."

Serena always had a magnetic air about her, something wild and untameable and enigmatic that drew everyone to her the moment she stepped into a room. The way she unapologetically carried herself, acted like herself, and not like the other girls at school who plastered on fake smiles for everyone, was the reason he'd asked her out to begin with. And yet, listening to her now, he kicked himself for believing she was any different, that she was just as loyal as Blair Waldorf was.

"I missed you," Serena added, trailing her hand up his arm and shoulder to cup the side of his neck. "I just want things to go back to how they were between us."

He frowned and moved away from her, out of reach from her coaxing touch. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to walk in here after what you did and try to pretend like it wasn't a big deal. You didn't accidentally spill something on my favorite sweater or break an expensive vase, Serena. You cheated on me with my best friend... after everything I've done for you."

"(Y/N)-"

"Serena?"

His eyes shot up toward the staircase and locked on the figure slowly descending it, her footsteps quiet and barely audible. Serena's head whirled around toward the familiar voice and her mouth opened, whatever words she wanted to say jumbling in her throat as Blair continued to cautiously approach them.

She sported his button-up, the one he'd worn to dinner the previous day and the very one she'd nearly torn off his body in her hungry neediness. The implications dawned on Serena and she snapped her head back toward him with bulging eyes.

"I thought I heard a familiar voice." Blair smiled, not a particularly nice one, and she stepped off the staircase to stride across the room.

She passed by Serena with the hint of a scowl, her eyes narrowing and raking over Serena's figure in discontentment. Her lip curled with disgust at the sight of her worn tote bag and her head shook disapprovingly, her messy brown waves shaking and bouncing off her round cheeks. His arm instinctively extended toward Blair and she settled into his side like a piece slotting into a puzzle. He met Serena's gaze as he kissed the top of her head, feeling her nuzzle into him further.

"Blair, I-... does- does Nate know you're here?" Serena swallowed.

Blair scowled, offended. "What I do is none of Nate's business anymore. Didn't you hear? Nate and I broke up after (Y/N) told me what you did. I always knew you were a whore, I just didn't think you'd do that to (Y/N) or me. It doesn't matter anymore, anyway. I'm better off without him, and you for that matter."

Blair's words were biting, filled with venom and heat, but (Y/N) couldn't find it within himself to be upset. Nobody else had seen the way her unbothered façade shattered at the news, the way she stuttered through tears as she tried to find any excuse to justify Nate's actions until all she could do was curl up in his arms and sob over the boy she'd poured her heart into.

He'd felt guilty then, for breaking a girl he once believed was a stone wall, a girl he once judged for her cruelty. It wasn't until he helped her pick up the pieces Nate left behind that he caught sight of the girl underneath the ruthless ice queen everyone knew her as. Blair was sensitive, sweet, easily humored, and held a strong urge to please and protect those she cared about. The more time he spent with her, the more his heart began to flutter with a familiar emotion.

It wasn't until a rainy night when she'd stopped by unprompted to gift him a designer jacket she'd seen while window-shopping that he fully realized the extent of his feelings and, after a kiss by the fireplace and whispered confessions, she agreed to be his girlfriend. The look on Nate's face, and the satisfaction on Blair's, when he saw them at school made the heartache and sleepless nights worth it.

"Guys-"

Blair raised her hand to stop the blonde. "I think it's time for you to go, Serena. We don't want you here."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x male!reader #gossip girl #gossip girl x reader #gossip girl x male reader #gossip girl x you #gossip girl x y/n #serena van der woodsen #serena van der woodsen x reader #serena van der woodsen x male reader #serena van der woodsen x you #serena van der woodsen x y/n #blair waldorf #blair waldorf x reader #blair waldorf x male reader #blair waldorf x you

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pastlivesxpastlie · 20 hours ago

Text

𓍯𓂃Lovesick

mdni 18+

Summary: Vessel becomes fixated with you after you provide him some comfort at a party. Are you as gone for him, too? Pairing: Vessel x fem!reader wc: 4.7k head's up: vessel x you, smut with plot, friends to lovers, afab!reader, no y/n, oral sex (m receiving), pining + yearning, talk of male masturbation, texting, absolutely idiots in love, angst, bit of a slow burn (?), use of "good boy" and "good girl," tit play, couch sex, cowgirl, light choking, HEA, threats of waxing poetic about progressive metal

Taglist aka Situation Enjoyers™️: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @inv3ga @adenobabe @jeriiicho @milk--bones @myaudiocommentary @horsebiologist @intake-of-breath @fruitsandcheese @0hg00dgirl @goosepond69 @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @lynzeequitlollygagging @thatxxjiyong-ssi @cloudy-soul @daddysaidbringthethunder @cheomain @evisnotok

“On your knees….please. Yes, like that. Mmmmph. Thank you.”

Vessel can’t help but still be polite. He can’t believe his eyes. Nor the feeling of the night air on his hard cock. He’s floating above himself and watching himself get jerked off outside at a house party. It’s not enough that he feels the spit on your palm. That could be his hand and this is just an elaborate fantasy. One of many.

But it would be the first about you. You were untouchable. You’re just a friend…just a friend…just a friend…only a friend.

“Can I use my mouth?”

Holy fuck. This is real life.

In his fantasies, no one asks. Vessel doesn’t dream about giving consent. He dreams of being craved. Taken. Always willing. His breath catches.

“Hey, it’s ok,” you whisper, “we don’t have to anyth-“

“Do anything to me. Please.”

His head falls back with a soft thud against the house. Getting head was always fun but this felt therapeutic. You had, of course, asked Ves why he seemed down. You always asked him those kinds of things. “Someone who cares asks those things,” he’d told himself, “but someone who loves you does something about it.” Now you’re on your knees in the dirt sucking him off. How did this even happen?

𓍯𓂃earlier...

Vessel slumped in the couch and mindlessly dragged his fingers on his thigh. He had made his rounds and said “hi” to the people he wanted to talk to and smiled awkwardly at the people he sought to avoid or didn’t know. He deserved a little sit down after that. The past few months had put him in a rut. There was always a post-tour slump but this one hit different. Vessel felt down. Down because he had writer’s block. Down because it had been gloomy this week and the week before and before that etc etc. Down because his bed was cold. Thinking back on the hook-ups during tour already got boring. The old encounters going stale. Does he hook up again with someone randomly against his better judgement or does he deal with it?

On more than one occasion, Vessel had been accused of being naive when it came to love, to which he responded, “I’m just being cautious.” Where some might be naive about love and affection and throw themselves at the first person who did the bare minimum, Vessel was naive in that he just figured people were being nice or he just got lucky. Otherwise, people didn’t really want to mess with being in a relationship with a musician. They’re broody. They’re too busy. They’re married to their work. They’re full of themselves. Vessel internalized those things. Sure he was broody to begin with, but that was his brand. But everything else, sure, he could be married to his work and keep himself busy. “Just earth sign things!” Easy as that. And maybe one day someone else’s indifference towards commitment would rub off on him. His rumination is interrupted when the couch sinks a bit beside him and he feels a soft punch on his arm.

“What does it mean when I don’t get ‘hi’ or your awkward smile, hm?”

His heart warms up a bit. It’s you. You teeter somewhere between “friend” and “good friend.” It’s always nice to see you but you leave it at that. You see each other when you see each other. He shrugs and looks over at you. “Didn’t see you. Bet you were hiding or something.”

“Tsk. Fine. Maybe I was. We know too much about each other’s awkward little quirks,” you sigh. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to see you, though. How you been?”

Vessel laughs to himself, thinking of the miserable spiral you interrupted. “Imagine how much more awkward this could get if I told you the truth.” But you don’t laugh at his little self-deprecation. That makes him nervous. His insides churn. You’re just watching him, waiting to hear what he has to say. Why do you do that? So many people ask “how are you” because it’s polite…why do you care so much? “Look.” Vessel finally speaks again and flattens his hair. “I’m not great.”

You shift and exhale softly. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He can see it in your eyes. You’re not trying to have some misery-loves-company-circlejerk. You have that same “mask” on as him. “Hate to hear that.” For a second Vessel feels something stir within him. Your tone is unenthusiastic but he knows it has nothing to do with him. He’s just glad to bond with someone, even if it’s over something lame like depression or whatever is eating at you both. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh just…general bullshit.” You shrug but Vessel knows whatever it is, you can’t just shrug it off. “Like if I’m so stuck, maybe this is where I’m meant to be. Even if it hurts.”

He makes an “o” shape with his mouth and is lost in thought. He has certainly felt that way before, but hearing you say it about yourself is heretical. He hates that you think that way. “No.”

“Oh. Well…alright. Thanks Ves, you healed me.” You chuckle dryly. He rolls his eyes and pats your leg. “So what’s got you down? For real.”

Vessel’s smile fades. “I feel…stuck as well. Just…going through the motions.” He scratches the back of his neck. “All the excitement of the last couple of months just…ripped from me. Gets hard to keep up with my emotions when I’m…frankly…bored. Bored of feeling this way. My own company.”

“I get that. Like you have to have things changing or moving all the time.”

“Exactly. Like some kind of jump that isn’t a substance or…whatever.”

“Hah…yeah… sometimes I just feel like…” you begin but pause.

“Like what?” Why are you blushing like that, he wonders idly. And why is it suddenly the cutest thing he’s ever seen?

“Uhm. I feel like…I need to get laid. That would fix me, right? Huge load of emotions and hormones released with someone you like…what could be better?”

“Oh is it that simple?” Vessel laughs. A genuine, warm laugh. You’re so silly, he just loves talking to you. And he loves how you laugh with him. He was scared for a second that you might take it personally, but he’s glad to see that you too have a sick sense of humor when you’re feeling unwell.

“Maybe it is. Guess…we won’t know until…” you trail off.

“Until we try…” Vessel’s throat goes dry. He tries to swallow hard before nonchalantly scoping out how many people were on the patio.

𓍯𓂃

Vessel always had to make things happen, and he was fucking exhausted from it. Now you were happening to him. You clued in on what he wanted when he suggested you both get some fresh air. Hell, you were the one who found the perfect spot for this tryst.

“Y-you like doing that?” he whimpers. He can’t make out much of your features but he feels you nod and smile and…fuck, take him deeper in your mouth. He’s holding his breath. He knows he shouldn’t but if he doesn’t exert some kind of control over himself he’ll lose it. But when you grab his waist and start literally fucking your face with his cock he has to let go. He grips your hair, willing himself to resist overpowering you and thrusting harder against your movements. “Ffffff-fffuck.” He whimpers softly and bites at his lip… wishing you had kissed him before you got started so he could imagine it again while you savored every inch of him. His entire body shivers when you moan against his cock, making him realize you like the sound of his whimpers. His pathetic little pleas and moans.

“‘That feel good, Ves?” You whisper, stroking his cock as you catch your breath? “Hmm?”

He nods and whines, trying to not be loud. Thank god it was dark, otherwise you would have seen the tears threatening to spill. The way he bit his hand to keep from moaning out loud. What if you two got caught? What if another friend heard what you pulled from him? “Fuck…you’re gonna make me cum…”

“That’s a good boy.” Vessel feels his stomach drop as you start sucking him off again but with more enthusiasm. Like you need him to cum. And he does. But you don’t move…you keep your mouth on him. And he might be the one cumming down your throat but he’s not claiming you. No.

You.

Own.

Him.

Somehow, and much to his delight, Vessel does not lose sleep over the ordeal or his new-found, all-consuming feelings for you. In fact, he’s never slept better. Sleeping once meant loud, restless dreams; now it means a nestling in and wondering about you before dozing off…imagining he’s holding you. He keeps telling himself it’s infatuation. It’ll go away. He’s just starstruck from the way you took care of him. But then…the ruminating started…

Each morning, Vessel wondered about you. Maybe today you’ll share something on Instagram that he can make a little comment on. Send a react. Yes, sure, you’re friends, but you’re not “close.” When he looked into your soft, sweet eyes the other night he wondered how a darling little thing like you learned to give head like that. Suddenly your life story became his Roman Empire. Were you a natural? Did someone give you gentle pointers the first few times? Or did you have to do it a lot to get good? Did you have to go jumping from man to man to find the love you so desperately craved? This made Vessel’s blood run cold. The thought of sweet, wonderful you merely being an option to other men. A small voice told Vessel that perhaps he himself was just an option. Maybe you did stuff like this a lot. One among many. Vessel chided this voice. Locked it in a dark little room with no ventilation. You were good. You wouldn’t use anyone. In fact, you probably did learn this from practice because who wouldn’t love you?

Vessel knows he’s being stupid. You two like each other but he won’t reach out. Then again, you don’t reach out either. That’s ok. He had no coherent plan of moving things forward. He was also terrified the spark you two shared would be gone if you tried hanging out again. What if you couldn’t handle his schedule? Or didn’t find it endearing when his moods never let up? What if that stupid voice was right? Most of the time, he resigned himself back to “I’ll see her when I see her,” and a cheeky wank to take the edge off. But that always left him feeling guilty. Empty.

This particular morning he had been deep in thought about what your favorite position might be and how many times he could make you cum just from fucking you at a torturous pace that way. Today’s position of choice was doggy, but bent over his desk, on top of his notes from recording and writing sessions. That was what you deserved. You drove him to absolutely hopeless distraction…you should be bent over while he stands behind you, fingers melting into your flesh, holding you in place. He swears this will be the last time he jerks off thinking about you…but because of that he can’t help but edge himself. Thinking about you is easy. Not because you yourself are easy…but because Vessel realizes how naturally desirable you are. Seeing the way you took control and took care of him opened his mind to this entirely new world of fantasies. The heat blooming from his groin to his tummy made him stop for the third time. Yes, in this fantasy you were bent over for him…but there was more to it. You were doing him a favor. Good boys got to take breaks. Good boys stuck in a rut need to empty their brains and fill up their girlfriends. FUCK he wanted you to be his girlfriend so bad. And that thought scared him…as does the sound of his phone buzzing a few times. His train of thought vanishes along with his hard-on. Cursing whoever who messaging him this early, he grabs his phone but then makes the most embarrassing noise known to man.

You: hey isn’t this a band you like?

the second message is the link to an instagram post

You: they’re doing a last minute show next weekend

And sure enough, one of his favorite niche prog metal bands was playing in place of someone else at a local venue on Saturday. And tickets were dead cheap. Another message.

You: if I knew anything about metal I’d go with you. Not sure how much fun I’d be

Sirens! Flashing lights! All the bells and whistles going off in Vessel’s brain are firing. His inner little voices of reason (and everything in between) begin a debate.

“She’s flirting!” “Obviously, she’s flirting she sucked your dick.” “Can’t be that deep mate, she’s just now talking to you after a month.” “Sure it is, it is has to be flirting! She’s practically begging for you to invite her!”

Vessel: lol I could send you a playlist :)

“Mate, come on, what are you doing?” “Invite her over to hear the playlist. That’ll will be cute” “and then fuck her. Fuck her like the sl—“

Vessel rolls over and screams in his pillow. He will not have a meltdown over this.

Vessel: or we could throw you in feet first? Come with me?

… … …

Those infernal fucking “typing” bubbles are killing him. 3 minutes of that. Then no response. Vessel isn’t sure what he did wrong or if he did do anything wrong. He tries to go about his day but there’s still that nagging suspicion that he did too much. But when he least expects it…

You: sorry this is so last minute. are you busy tonight?

Vessel: no, I’m not. Why?

He bites his lip as he waits to see what you’re planning. He wonders if you want to talk about what happened…or maybe do it again…or maybe act like nothing happened.

You: I just don’t want to be alone tonight. Vessel: I don’t want to be either.

It’s set then. He’ll go to your place…maybe have some drinks…maybe get a chance to thank you for the fun. He wanted to taste you. To make you cum like he did for you. Too many nights he spent wondering what you’re into. He had cast you in his mind as a soft domme, probably just because that’s what tickled his fancy at the time. But you had this caring…almost nurturing sense about you that night. You touched him like he was precious…like he would break if you didn’t take your time. He wanted to show you he was tougher than that. He could take it. The mere thought of even getting a chance to kiss you and make you feel even a fraction of the pleasure you gave him made his cock twitch. The time between now and when he was reunited with you would be torture.

But when he gets to your place, he doesn’t feel confident enough to act smooth or even touch you. If anything, he wanted to touch your hair. Literally just brush back the strands you missed when you tucked it behind your ear. Finally he musters the courage to stand beside you as you’re getting him some water. You’ve sucked his dick, the least he can do is move your hair. He moves in for the kill…but perhaps a bit too fast, because just as his hand reaches your personal space, you turn your head to look up at him and... receive a cheek full of Vessel knuckles.

He moves quickly to cup your face, desperate to show you he didn’t mean to whack you, but he’s greeted with a surprised chuckle and your smile. Not that one you put on for friends or staged photos…your real smile. He could die happy right now. Just absolutely melt. If he ever wanted to write true, honest to god love ballads he would think back to this moment. This gooey, gushy feeling. He feels confident, the same confidence the mask gives him, and presses a soft kiss where he accidentally got you.

“Ves…”

You still smile but he sees something behind your eyes. Vessel keeps his hands on your face…his heart breaking and stomach dropping. He had noticed you weren’t posting regularly on your socials and even then you seemed a bit less animated. He’s learned your tells. There’s smudges from yesterday’s eyeliner that somehow looks effortless but still betrays the fact that you didn’t wash your face last night. In his mind, Vessel likened you to a shrinking violet. The kindest, most gorgeous girl who ever graced him with her presence trying to hide herself away. This wouldn’t do. Even though he didn’t feel like he had the emotional energy for himself…he desperately wanted to be here for you. After the past four weeks of falling down a rabbit hole imagining you as a soft, caring, dominant partner, he suddenly felt needed. He wanted to provide so bad it hurt.

“What’s the matter, love?”

“I…” your voice cracks and you shake your head. He backs off a bit, letting you have some space. “It’s been a rough few weeks. I’ve…missed you and felt like…a fucking idiot the whole time.”

Vessel nods and takes a drink of his water. “Yeah. Getting laid didn’t fix us, did it?”

You laugh ruefully and cross your arms. “It’s made me worse. How about you?”

“You first.”

You roll your eyes and stretch your neck. Vessel nearly loses his mind at how you bite your lip as you look him up and down. This is what he wants. To be under your gaze. Please. Keep him there. His breath catches. You could tell him to leave right now and he would. But instead, you keep talking.

“To be completely honest with you, I didn’t think there was anything between us other than like…being friends. So I don’t know what came over me when I just…literally threw myself at you. I shouldn’t have done that. That’s…stupid reckless behavior.” You wring your hands a little and look down. “How can I expect to be taken seriously if I just—“

Vessel puts his hand up. “Stop that.”

“But I’m serious, Vess-“

“I said…’stop that.’ I take you seriously. I’ve always taken you seriously.” Vessel considers you for a moment. While he’d love to take you to bed, he’s desperate to lift you up. To reassure you. “Love, if you think you shouldn’t be taken seriously, imagine how I feel. You could have written me off as a jerk for letting you—“ but Vessel stops himself before he waxes poetic about your blowjob skills and ruins the moment. “I didn’t even follow you after we were done. Call you. Message you directly. After everything…I shouldn’t even have the chance to be with you.”

You shake your head and look down. “I know you’re not after one thing…I know it. But…why can’t I believe it? It’s nothing personal, I swear I just-“

Something deep within propels Vessel to pull you in for a gentle kiss…and to his utter delight you melt right into his touch. You fit so ridiculously perfect in his arms and mesh so well against his lips. He lets out a soft moan right as you break the kiss. Vessel had already been taken with you, but now he was enchanted. “Give me a month. I’ll show you how serious I am about you. It’s not just the sex…I promise.”

Your breath is ragged…you’re overcome with emotion and desire. You nod up at him. “All the time you need…”

“Good girl…” Vessel cocks his head, amused that he just called you that. He meant it in an encouraging way but…if the shoe fits. “Would you like that? To be my good girl?”

Your eyes get a bit dark, but not out of anything malicious. Your chin raises. “Ves…I would be anything you asked me to be. I don’t think you understand what you’ve done to me…” You pause but Vessel can’t even begin to formulate a thought. Were you as borderline obsessive as him? “You shouldn’t be on my mind the way you are. I mean…what are you doing to me? You’ve shown me so much kindness and your own vulnerability…that shouldn’t turn me on. It’s endearing and admirable, sure, but why do I…I just want to take care of you. I’m sorry I just…I feel guilty for…for falling for you because see me and you let me suck you off…I mean…how old are we?”

He’s taken aback a little. Something in your mind is tricking you. “Sweetheart,” he cups your cheek, “if it makes you feel any better, I feel the same. When I saw how down you looked a bit ago…” he shakes his head and sighs, “took everything in me to not start confessing everything just to see you smile. I want you. I want…everything that makes you ‘you.’ And I get the feeling you want the same…right?”

For a long second, you don’t say anything. You stare up at him, glassy eyed. He doesn’t need verbal confirmation. He’s passed that. He’s no longer timid about you. His lips meet yours in an agonizingly slow, tender kiss. Vessel’s hips press you against your kitchen counter, letting you feel his excitement. It wasn’t pure arousal. It was the excitement of being open and honest with each other. The emotional push and pull of comforting you but also receiving your reassurance did things to him. Oh fuck. Oh no. This was love, wasn’t it? Your hands pull at his hips, bringing one of his legs between yours. You moan softly, and he pulls from the kiss.

“Do you think about me at all?” He whispers breathlessly? You moan as his lips ghost your ear. The feeling of your thighs tightening around him makes his cock twitch. He wishes your thighs were around his hips…or even his face. You bite your lip and whine a little as your hips buck involuntarily.

“I think about fucking you on my couch everyday.”

Obviously the next stop is the couch. Vessel sits down and pulls you to straddle him. His kisses become more ravenous. Finally…the girl of his dreams is on him. He’d do anything for you right now, but he wants you a little vulnerable. You, of course, had been pining, too. What’s the harm in being pathetic together? He pulls off your shirt and nearly looses his mind when your soft flesh comes into view. Your precious tummy. Your squishy tits. Fuck. It was all his. “Get your pants off.”

You hop off his lap and do as your told. Vessel just watches and unzips his pants, adjusting them and his boxers to let his cock out. He bites his lip and strokes himself teasingly as he watches you pull off your leggings and panties. Drooling at the sight of your nude legs…the hint of your pussy. He beckons you forward seductively, a little taste of what’s to come once you’re in reach.

“How wet are you, love?” He asks, letting his fingers dip between your legs. You moan softly as his fingers trail up and down your slit, enjoying the wetness he’s caused. “I don’t even need to help you, do I? Excitable girl. Aren’t you?” All this gets from you is a nod. You’re so gone. He leans back on the couch and pulls you toward him. He’s still completely dressed in his henley and jeans, but you don’t seem to mind. He positions you on his cock and lets you set the pace. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been fucked, but he knows to be kind and let you adjust to his size. His eyes roll back and his head thumps against the couch. Something about how your body takes his cock makes his insides melt. You run your fingers through your hair and arch your back as you lower yourself completely on him. “Don’t move…don’t move, love.” He adjusts slightly to bring your chest to his mouth. His soft kisses and kitten licks pepper your breasts, causing your pussy to clench. It feels amazing. He’s being so gentle, but on the inside he wants to ravage you. Even after getting off everyday for a month thinking about you, you still excite Vessel into a frenzy.

“Oh…oh Ves…” you gasp as he takes your nipple between his lips. You both moan as his cock twitches against your sensitive walls, but he keeps you still, cockwarming as he teases and makes out with your nipples. He shamelessly buries his face in your chest and moans, squeezing your ass to pull you close. Vessel can hardly believe it. You’re finally in his arms, his cock is stuffed inside you, and you want his love just as badly as he wants yours. He pulls his face away from your body to look up at you and whisper.

“You’re my girl now. You know that?” He puts his finger that had touched your pussy in his mouth and sucks, making sure you how see gone he is for you. “Gonna make you so happy…”

Vessel can hardly believe what’s coming out of his mouth, but pussy from someone who accepts you unconditionally will do that to you. He thought he was only built for fleeting infatuations and hooks up. But here he was…making promises he’d sooner die than break. After playfully torturing you with how his cock twitched inside you every time you kissed him or made a little sound, he starts to move your hips. You look positively angelic on his lap completely naked taking his cock. His eyes roll back and he realizes that whatever half baked fantasy he had about fucking you didn’t prepare him for how good you felt. How warm and safe he’d feel under the weight of your body. It’s almost too much. Not that he’d cum yet. No. He just wants to say stupid things like “I love you;” and “we should move in together;” and “please call me a good boy.” That little submissive voice was still in him. He knew you were responding well to him taking control but he wanted that gentle control from you again.

“Am…am I good for you?” He rasps out as you steadily grind against him.

“Mhm…so good…you…you like being good?”

Vessel’s eyes roll back and he nods pathetically. “Just for you.”

You bury your face in the nape of his neck and suck little pink love marks up and down it. He moans with each one, clenching your body impossibly close. “I can’t move when you hold me like that…” you say backing up a little. You take his wrists gently and pin them against the back of the couch. He licks his lips and smiles dreamily. “Oh you’re pathetic, aren’t you?” Your fingers intertwine and he lets out a contented sigh.

“So pathetic…”

“You like being good but you like getting in trouble, too, huh?”

Vessel’s brain is mush. He knows you’re lightly degrading him and he fucking loves it but he has no concept of what’s happening other than “yippee perfect girl is being perfect.” He just nods and lets you fuck him for all he’s worth, cumming when you wrap your dainty hand around his neck.

Later at what can only be described as a debrief at the pub, you share a large basket of fries. Vessel takes a deep breath as he attempts to act normal after having his mind blown and emotions pulled in all kinds of different directions. “This is good, yeah?”

“The fries?”

“For Christ’s sake…”

“Oh sorry, you mean…us…yeah. This is good. Really good. Are you scared?”

Vessel looks at the table and then at you. Honesty is his only option. “Terrified.”

“Same.”

He ponders for a moment and puts his hand palm up on the table. “Do it scared?”

You plop your hand down on his, “and together.”

“Now about this gig next week. I need to start your lectures on progressive metal-“

“Oh god.”

#sleep token fanfiction #sleep token x reader #sleep token x you #vessel fanfic #vessel smut #fem reader #x reader #sleep token smut

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cheeseatlantic · 17 hours ago

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i don’t like him but i like his eyes

COFFEE AND COMFORT

The café was small and cozy, but König seemed impossibly big sitting across from you, his broad shoulders hunched forward like he was trying to make himself smaller. He kept fidgeting with the hem of his jacket sleeve, his fingers restless, occasionally brushing against the napkin on the table. You’d noticed his eyes darting toward the counter, then quickly away, over and over again.

“König?” you asked softly, leaning forward to catch his gaze. “Everything okay?”

He froze for a moment before nodding, though the stiffness in the motion gave him away. “I’m fine,” he murmured, but his voice was quieter than usual, almost like he was hoping you wouldn’t press further.

You tilted your head, watching him for a moment. “You don’t like ordering, do you?”

His head jerked up, his blue eyes wide with surprise and a hint of embarrassment. He quickly looked away, his voice dropping even lower. “It’s… not easy for me. Too many people. Too many chances to… mess up.” His fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the table, like he was holding himself in place.

Your heart ached at how vulnerable he looked—this mountain of a man who could hold his own in the most dangerous situations, yet struggled with something as simple as ordering a coffee. “Hey,” you said softly, reaching across the table to place your hand over his. He stilled immediately, his eyes flicking back to yours. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do it. I’ll take care of it.”

His gaze searched yours, as if looking for any trace of pity. Finding none, he gave a hesitant nod, his shoulders sagging with relief. “You… you don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” you said with a warm smile. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He hesitated, then quietly said, “Just a coffee. Black. And maybe… one of those muffins. The blueberry ones. If it’s not too much trouble.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how carefully he worded his request, like he didn’t want to ask too much of you. “Got it. Coffee, black. Blueberry muffin. Anything else?”

He shook his head quickly, his lips twitching into a small, grateful smile. “No. That’s all, liebe.”

You stood and headed toward the counter, casting a glance back at him. He was watching you, his hands resting on the table now, his posture a little more relaxed. When the barista handed you the order, you made your way back, setting the coffee and muffin in front of him with a flourish.

“Your royal feast,” you teased lightly, sliding into your seat.

König’s laugh was soft but genuine, the corners of his eyes crinkling just slightly. “Danke,” he said, his voice warmer now. “You’re… very kind.”

“Anytime,” you replied, taking a sip of your own drink. “But next time, we’ll try it together, yeah? No pressure, just baby steps.”

His eyes softened, and he nodded slowly. “Next time,” he repeated, like he was committing the words to memory.

And for the first time since you’d walked in, he didn’t seem quite so big and out of place. Instead, he seemed like he belonged—safe and understood.

idk anything about him, but i heard somewhere he had social anxiety? me too babes.

@thechaoticcheese here, cheese to cheese…

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lala056 · 2 days ago

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Exhausting

I have no respect for billford shippers that look down on stancest shippers.

Oh what, you’d have me believe a genetic tie to a partner is somehow worse than being with someone that stabs through your hands, forces you to swallow live spiders, and also SA’s you by having yourself forcibly strip down in public and swing your clothes over your head like a helicopter? (sorry but anyone that forcibly removes your clothes and exposes your body, even if you’re a guy/lacking breasts and it’s just your chest, is committing SA against you. They’re exposing your body against your will plain and simple. Try to write that off how you like but that’s the facts)

The logic behind this baffles me honestly.

There’s a reason Alex titled that kissing drawing as "the worst drawing in the world" and then linked to an amazon BIBLE page (yeah I know that was part of a joke well guess what he frequently uses the bible joke for shipping in general so yeah).

Because he knows it’s BAD, TOXIC, PROBLEMATIC AS YOU GUYS LIKE TO LABEL THINGS. What I see people incorrectly accuse PROSHIPPERS to REPRESENT rather than the actual representation of the LIVE AND LET LIVE CREDO OF SHIPPING.

Ever stop to consider that maybe Alex didn’t do stancest or art involving Wendy/Dipper because he simply a) didn’t like those ships, which is valid since everyone has their own tastes, and he did base some of these characters on his own family so it’s close to home for him, or b) knows how toxic and chronically online a lot of haters are? That he wanted to avoid drama for this stream that he’s trying to milk every cent out of for CHARITY? (It's ridiculous how many times he felt obligated to say "REMEMBER IT'S FOR CHARITY" when shipping came up just to try and prevent any meltdowns from uptight fans and viewers. And even then he still didn't do some because he knew the fact of it being for charity still wouldn't fly for some- because a lot of people would rather watch REAL PEOPLE SUFFER to preserve their fictional sensitivities)

Not to mention he still works with Disney (chibiverse hello), any backlash (the form of false pedo accusations or incest apologist accusations being what happens to be thrown around all willy nilly nowadays over fictional bullshit) could get him blocked not only from working with the company ever again, but lose any input he might have over his beloved passion project and baby Gravity Falls itself?

This is a man who has said COUNTLESSLY that he doesn’t care about ships, has even encouraged people to "be weirder" and made omelet hypotheticals for how much HE DOESN’T CARE BECAUSE FICTIONAL SHIPS DON’T MATTER.

Alex Hirsch is a KING.

And it’s sad to see that so many of his loyal subjets are so bigoted and blind to ignore his own feelings in order to justify their own, or to somehow perform the mental gymnastics in order to absolve themselves of "thought crimes" so that they can feel like they aren’t bad people under the imposition of conservative purity culture.

The terms "cest" and "age" are trigger words now. If those show up in any form, pitchforks come out and roofs get burned. Companies overreact and overcompensate. He said Disney people were watching, so of course he’s gonna say and act in what is deemed an appropriate manner because even companies apparently prefer abusive relationships to ones that have a blood tie even if blood ties are wholesomely depicted.

The age old double standards.

And don’t get me started on bringing up Dipper Goes To Taco Bell. Alex and cast know of that story, they’ve made references to it in a video game and such, immortalized it. They engage with all corners of their fandom, also shown by Jason’s "saving the town" reference on stream.

Another thing, anyone notice how they laughed off the Dipper and Wendy suggestion Jason made, rather than exploded? BECAUSE THEY DON'T CARE IT'S NOT THAT SERIOUS - and most likely turned them down because they know there's more drama about characters being aged up and crap so it wouldn't have mattered if they're adults now, there are people who will always see them as "kids".

Point is - If there was such a strong hate on Alex’s part about the darker side of fiction or taboos he’d do all in his power to make sure they were never mentioned again and be active against them.

He’s a kind, caring man that obviously likes to just get along with people, but he does put his foot down when he feels something is awful. He’s made political posts about presidents he feels are corrupt and spoken out against social injustice. You honestly think he wouldn’t speak out about those taboo ships in frank language if he thought that they shouldn’t exist and that the people who create for them are awful?

Newsflash, he would. Yes, he’d isolate a sadly small part of his fanbase, but he’s shown time and again he doesn’t care about being liked. He cares about what’s right.

And abusing others over which made up character kisses who, isn’t.

If you’re someone that mislabels proshippers too, to mean "problematic shippers", then as a billford shipper you’re one by definition. And yes, I'm including you AU billford shippers too because there is always some degree of toxicity.

Knock the hate and abuse off. People that go off about why their ship is justified and another isn't are the reason people leave fandoms and leave amazing works often unfinished, even Gen writers and artists.

#gravity falls #billford #stancest #alex hirsch #shipping #really tired of all ya'll

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tranceinnumerabletabs · 3 days ago

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When Johnny Comes Back pt13

I'd like to mention some of these 'titles' were from AO3 and I'm sorry for how some of these sound. I know a lot of these were truly bonkers and some were character-specific. Y'all better like them they're legit funny at times AND have plausible deniability. Also, just like...2 hours after posting part 12, I REACHED 100 REBLOGS!! LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Sorry it took so long! I guess I hit a writer's block.

tags: @supermegabitchboyexceptimagirl, and @beelzebee

part1, part12

“Poison Breaker. Affirmative Sir. Operation: Deep Infiltration. Whispers of the Damned.”

Huh…those sound familiar?

“Undercover assets. Trapper Keeper. The Art of Subtlety. Hotline.”

Those….are just titles of sites you’ve visited? You think. You don’t memorize the hundreds of sites you visit.

“Tactical Submission. All That’s Said In Low Light. The Captain’s Private Orders. All the Sins You Never Had the Courage to Commit. Silent Weapons, Soft Target. To Drive a Man to Madness. Covert Rendezvous.”

Soap looks confused, which isn’t a good look right now. ‘What’s all this?’ He seems to say as he looks at you. You look confused as well.

You Don't remember this as being a part of your research.

This Wasn't Part Of Your Research.

“Sir Yes Sir. Directive 69: Breach & Enter. Man In Uniform. Under the Hood: Sensitive Material. Bravo Six: Going Dark. Decompression Protocol. Advanced Recon: Close Quarters. Mask-On Compliance. Command Authority: At Ease.”

Johnny looked even more confused. That’s…a lot more than you showed him. You didn’t tell him about any of this and by the sounds of it it seems important.

“Low-Profile Insertion. Kylassified BBC. Private Briefing: The Captain’s Touch. The Alpha Lieutenant. Engagement Protocol.”

Wait. Alpha Lieutenant? that sounds so familiar to you.

“Explosive Affairs. Now You See ‘em, Now You Don’t. Help Me Out (Get Me Off).”

“Hen what’s this?” Soap whispers sharply to you.

“Someone to Bleed. Silent Takeover. Behind Enemy Lines (Barracks Edition). Black Ops Ships.”

Ships?

Ships??

SHIPSSS??

SHIIIIIIPPSSSS??!!

no please god no

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Modern Warfare Collection. C4 & Chill. Op Order: Stand to Attention.”

Soap looked worried at your panicked look.

'What are you hiding?'

“Slow Burn Deployment. Headcannon: Operator Edition. Cold War AU. Warzone AU. Infinite Warfare AU. Ship Week Prompts.”

“This isn’t what it looks like” you whisper back but it’s not very convincing when the words Cold War, Warzone and Warfare is coming out of Ross’ mouth

“Modern Warfare Drabbles. Modern Warfare Oneshots. Multi chapter AU Missions. Modern Warfare PWP. Kinktober: Advanced Warfare Edition. Fix-it-Fic: After Action Report.”

He’s literally reading your fucking fanfic history.

“Canon-Divergence ABO AU. WIP Modern Warfare 2.”

ABO?! fml that’s like the worst one?! What could be worse!?

“CoD x Reader."

tHaT wAsN't a fUcKiNg cHAllEnGe rOsS!!

"Reader Inserts: Classified Quarters. Modern Warfare Imagines.” Ross finishes as if he didn’t completely and utterly demolish your dignity in one fell swoop by reading your fanfic history right in front of Johnny

“Care to explain all that ma’am?” Ross asks innocuously Now, all three men turn towards you for answers, though Soap is still on your side, he wanted your explanation

You clear your throat, finding it suddenly dry. Was it always hot in here or was it just you?

“I….um…”

At the hesitation, Milton and Ross perk up “Those are just….fictional stories I like reading.” You vaguely say

“Hmm. That’s an awful lot of them military themed”

You nod hastily “yep!” You squeak “I’m just….really into it”

yeah I’m sure you are you whore

All three of them seem to scrutinize you under their gaze. The agents gaze spoke of suspicions and Soap’s never knew you were into that bonny

“So all of this is just a curiosity? You seemed to stay up late on these sites. All these titles are cause for suspicion in one way or another”

you doubt that but I guess they wouldn’t understand what some of these terms would be

“Y-yeah…the stories aren’t….focused on military stuff anyway it’s just….silly stories about the characters” you force out as you wish the ground would swallow you whole. They don’t even seem convinced as you experience an ego death right next to Soap. “It’s harmless! Honest!” You say, digging yourself into a deeper grave.

“Could you show us one of them” Milton challenges

I’d rather you shoot me but okay! You pull out your phone and go on AO3

“Lass what are you doing?” Soap whisper hisses at you, thinking it’s bad.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it” you whisper back. You try to find……nothing too weird. That shouldn’t be too hard right?

right?

You show him the beginning of some slow burn. Nothing crazy happens in the beginning of a slow burn right?

You all sit in silence as old ass men read fanfiction titles right fucking in front of you with varying expressions. But you only had one expression: Pain.

Soap looked like he wanted answers but is waiting till they leave “So they’re really just…..stories..?” Ross gruffs

“Yep! Nothing classified here!” You wheeze Ross of course decided to scroll all the way to the top before you could stop him and read the fucking tags you unwillingly flinch in embarrassment and take back your phone so he doesn’t seen any…..inappropriate tags….and you pray they didn’t. You look at your phone and Daymn these tags are pretty good but not something you’d show your parents. He…didn’t read them did he??

DID HE?

Milton doesn’t seem to notice and continues with the questions “so they’re unrelated to earlier searches?”

“YEP!” Your voice cracks

“Does your ’friend’ also have these….‘interests’”

“Uhhhh……maybe? I’m sure she’d like some of them”

Ross seemed to have enough “alright. Seems….harmless enough”

“Does your friend know anything about deeper searches or your husband’s occupation?” Milton checks again

husband

“U-um….she knows he’s in the military…” you dodge the fist part of the question but “And the searches?” Milton wasn’t having any of that

“I didn’t send her anything I know is classified” technically not a lie

“Did you tell her anything classified?”

“I never knew I even read anything bad! I was just curious”

please leave please leave please leave

They didn’t like that. But what could they do? They shoot Soap a look. He shoots one back, as if to say “leave it to me gentlemen”

The men nod “thank you both for your cooperation.” Ross grunts. They move to stand up and you relax slightly Ross straightens his tie as he talks “Be mindful of where you look and who you share it with. Curiosity could get you in serious trouble if you end up on the wrong side of a security breach“

“If you have any questions about classified material, there are legitimate channels.” Milton eyes you both.

pfff! ‘Legitimate Channels’?! If you wanted to watch hours of propaganda you��d watch marvel movies

Ross casually pockets his notebook filled with information the CIA couldn’t waterboard out you. They start to see themselves out but then-

“Hold it right there folks” Soap objects. The men turn to look at him. “Are ye gonna stop watching us? I’m not too keen on being monitored”

The men exchange glances “we’ll be in touch”

Soap doesn’t seem satisfied with that. Seems he still needs to….do things under your table and need their heads away.

“Aye. Aye. I Ken it’s yer jobs tae be cunts. I’m one myself” he reminds “but I’d like tae take a look at her ‘investigation’ myself and dinae want tae be watched”

Oh so that’s why

The men look at each other, straighten up, and try to make him understand “It’s not in our hands sergeant” Milton speaks “we can try to put in a good word. But we can’t make guarantees”

Soap thinks for a moment “aye, I shoulda known...Hmph. That’s alright gentlemen. I’ll just tell my captain and Laswell”

The men look even more serious “alright. I’m sure they’ll clear her name for you.” They start to see themselves out again but before they could fully leave, the older one, Ross turn his head back and says “It’s got to have you back sergeant” before finally leaving.

Both of you sigh in relief, the tension seeming to leave you both as you relaxed but neither of you are relaxed at all. Your dignity was in complete shambles, you had a lot to explain and Soap now had another mission as soon as he came back.

A long silence befalls both of you. Neither of you knowing what to say and needing to contemplate. You were there, reality crashing on you realizing how you’ve just stumbled into and Johnny? He’s now just had a new list of objectives to complete:

1. Interrogate you, why didn’t you tell him about those? are you hiding something from him? Have you been lying about what you know?

2. Tell Laswell and Price everything he knows and everything that happened. He already sent screenshots, they haven’t responded, and there’s been…..recent updates to suspicious activity he has to investigate.

3. Try to clear your name. But only if he’s concluded you deserved it. And he’s worried you didn’t deserve it. Those titles did sounded suspicious

4.Contact the shadow. How dare he talk to his wee bonny lass? Was it random? Was it bait? Was it targeted? Was it a part of something bigger he might not survive?

As both of you were processing the events, neither of you knew what to say. Soap braved a glance at you, you were looking right at him…wanting to speak but not knowing how to start. His eyes softened. How could he think anything malevolent of you? He’s sure you have an explanation. He put his signature teasing smile on his face.

“Husband eh? Looks like they made it official for us.” He jokes

You look surprised, before slowly cracking a small laugh and shaking your head. He smiles at the sight: you, on laughing at his antics on his bare chest. His solider brain impelled him from the side of his mind that he usually shut down when he came back to demand

To demand answers now.

But you were precious.

Too precious

But he had a job to do. His Call of Duty

“Lass” he clears his through and tries to keep his tone lighthearted as to not alarm you but the look in his eye was serious. “Care tae explain all tha’? Ye said ye told me everything”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks start heating up, you shove your face back into his chest, an action that would usually have his heart beating faster and his grin wider, but not now, cuz that’s MiGhTy sUsPiCioUs. His eyes grow even more serious. “What’s wrong bonny” his pet name sounds forced “are ye hiding’ something?”

You don’t seem to catch the weight of his tone, too engulfed in the absolute embarrassment of the events. Bad news. “Lass” he says through clenched teeth. “Care tae explain?” He fights the urge to grip your hair and force eye contact. He needs answers.

You catch on and snap your head up “I-i-it’s not what I-it l-l-looks like! I can explain!”

no you can't

oh god how am I going to explain I read smutty military fanfiction?! HE’S IN THE FUCKING MILITARY

“Ye said ye told me everything”

“I did!”

“Then what was all that? You didn’t show me all those.”

“I-I-I answered truthfully! Honest!”

“So all th’ was jus’ stories?” He asks, suspicious

“Yes! I promise!”

“About what?”

"Just….some..military stuff”

“Ye seemed eager tae make sure sheriff Sunburn and Deputy Mustache dinnae read it.” He presses

“It’s just….um….about the characters themselves. Like about lieutenants, soldiers, sergeants, mercenaries. Not about combat or battle….usually..”

So you’re learning about their means to an end? The average person doesn’t read hours of Mein Kampf, Das Kapital, The Art of War, The Turner Diaries etc for the writing style. So he scowls more as if that’s worse “an’ why would ye want tae know that?”

“Just……for fun..”

“Fer fun?”

“Hmm hmm” you force out.

Oh lord, if you’re listening, please help. I know we haven't always gotten along with my reading history and every thought I have when Johnny is shirtless but please!

“Then why don’t I have some ‘fun’ too? Give me your phone” he challenges, determined to find you out. Your eyes widen and your throat goes dry

oh lord please no

Your reaction seemed to confirm his suspicions and I look of betrayal and denial seeped into his face. You lied to him? You lied?! What were you plotting?

The look on his face broke your heart and you panicked more “I-i-it’s not bad! Honest! C'mon I need you on my side Johnny! You know I’d never do anything bad!”

“Honest?” He seemed to mock “well if ye wanna talk about honesty. Let’s talk about how ye went behind my back and learned everythin’ I’ve been trying tae hide from ye, only for you to end up being someone I’d fight against and ye won’t even let me not believe it!”

“Nononononono” you shake your head. Then. You sigh, defeated

“…..don’t laugh…”

Soap seemed to ease up at that.

“It’s…..uh…transformative works based on preexisting concepts made by regular civilians”

“Does it end with the army lads plantin’ a bomb or rescuin’ a kitten? I’m sure ‘The Captain’s Private Orders’ and ‘Operation Deep Infiltration’ sound like stories with happy endings. Next thing I see is you pitching’ American Sniper tae our wee Simon fer a bedtime story”

oh they have happy endings alright

You groan and place your hands in your hands “they’re not even about military bullshit! They’re about military video game characters!” You slip

“….stories…..about video game...military…” he mumbled to himself. Then…slowly, his entire demeanor shifts. His shoulders drop and his face twist into disbelief

“No. fucking. way” he looks at you but there was no malice, making you foolishly relax as well “what?”

“Lass…”

“Johnny?”

“…were ye readin’ fanfiction?!” He yells in absolute disbelief!

“W-what! I-I-I”

“Don’t try tae lie tae me sweetheart!” He laughs, and despite it being at your expense pride swelled in your heart at making him laugh so hard. “Ye wee filthy lass!” He laughs.

“N-no!!” You yell in a blushing defense but that just confirms his suspicions further and he wasn’t having any of that. You're dignity was going for a round two and there is no tap outs avaliable

“I cannae believe it! The wee Innocent Princess has a dark side! Tell me lassie, do ye like the idea of a big mean soldier tossin’ a wee ting like you and fuckin’ her silly?”

“It’s not all smutty!” You slip up. Well shit now you’ve confirmed it!

“Is that so? are they all big dark, brooding and misunderstood?” He keeps going, merciless “or are they too busy shagging each other? An’ I’m right here! Without the plot holes or filers! I’m proper jealous! Am I not strong enough fer ye Bonnie? I promise I’m a better fuck than Audie Murphy!” He laughs, clutching his chest in faux heartbreak

“Noooooo!”

“Dae the lads recite Shakespeare tae woo ye? I should try tha’! O, my sweet lass, how doth thy beauty compare to a well-placed grenade?’”

“Okay well fuck you too Johnny”

“ye wish! Is this what ye’ve been reading at night?! All cozy in yer Jammies readin’ about an alpha male in yer bedroom? I gotta see this!”

“Jounnyyy!!” you shove your face into your hands, unable to face him

“What’s yer favorite one lass? ‘Tactical Submission’? ‘*Deeeep* Infiltration’” he leans in close to you, making sure to be right in front of your hands on your face

“What was it again? ‘Captain’s Private Orders’? I could give ye orders if ye like lass”

“Oh I’m sorry Sergeant jealousy, I didn’t know it was part of protocol to get your CV before reading in what I thought was the privacy of my home!” You whine into your hands then he grips your wrists and rips them away to revel in your shattered dignity

“I dinae think the day would ever come where I’d find this about ye! Are ye that patriotic or have I swooned ye? I shoulda went in tae makin’ porn! Then at least ye’d be Diddling tae a proper braw belter!”

You groan so loudly you sound like an angsty teen on their phone. You look away, your face too hot to breath properly “Who needs recruiters when they have me! Are you tryin to tell me somethin lass?” He leans in way too fucking close making it hard to breathe.

You whine indignantly “yeah!” You choke out. His eyes brighten and it pisses you off more right now “l found that that military men are really sexy! You’re just a shit example!” You yell out.

He throws his head back in laughter. Finally you can breathe without his smothering proximity. “Awww lass! Don’t be like tha’!”

You huff and don’t meet his face

“Lassie” he calls out, still holding your wrists

“Fuck off Johnny”

“Awww don’t be like that hen. I’m sure it’s a nice way tae keep warm when the real thing isn’t there”

“Johnny I swear to god I will sell you to foreign forces for a corn chip if you don’t shut the fuck up”

“Fee a corn chip? Nae I’m sure you can bargain fer better.” He grins wider and leans back in “like…say….a night with one of their soldiers.”

“Johnny I swear to god-“ He gasps as if he suddenly got an idea “Ye really should show me some!” Your eyes shoot open in horror

“absolutely not!” You yell “ain’t no way!”

He whines and places both hands in the couch ‘wall’ behind you, encasing you. You knew he was going to try and roll persuasion. He rolls a 19 but you roll a 20 on insight and see his roguish mischievousness through those twitter-blue eyes. He lowers himself a bit and looks up at you with those big blue pupper eyes, it’s especially ethos with those bandages “Bonny-” he starts, dripping with faux sincerity

“No.”

“Lass pl-“

“I said no Johnny”

“Hen”

“I said NO Johnny! I will throw Simon at you don’t test me!”

He whines like a dog and encircles me more, trying to apply pressure.

“Princess.”

You sigh, hot faced with anger and embarrassment “what.” He grins.

“I love ye”

Though those sad puppy eyes were optimized to disintegrate your will, they were gleaming with mischief

“shut it” you shove him off to run away but he throws himself on top of you like a clingy dog and pinning you on the couch “don’t gooo, say it baack”

“Get off me!” You whine, fantasizing about locking yourself into your bed room and scream into your pillow

“Not until he tell me I’m more braw then the Bawbags ye read about!”

“Fat chance sergeant suds!” You struggle under his the immovable object that is Johnny with the unstoppable force that is your rage.

But then-lightbulb!

💡💡💡

He’s taught you many things, some of which includes how to evade capture by government agents and how to get out of being pinned. You decide to use one of the tricks he taught you. Usually it might not work on the big bad sergeant soap, but he’s sore, fresh out of the hospital, and hasn’t worked out in weeks. He’s not at full strength. You’ve got this!

“Well then yer stuck here!” He taunts and continues to make fucking fun of you “Why don’t ye write naughty fanfiction of me? I’m amazin’!”

“Oh I’ve got a naughty story for you Sergeant!”

You hook your legs around his waist, shutting him up quick. You shift your hips, buck up hard, pushing your knee against his hip. The unexpected momentum makes him yelp and it rolls him enough to loosen his hold as he instinctively tries to catch himself from falling off the couch.

“long. live. the king!”

You snake an arm free and shove his shoulder with all your Disney movie might, tossing him off the couch with a thud

You scramble to your feet as he stares in surprise “I know all your tricks Sudsy!”

“I taught ye that! Y-ye traitor!” He groans. You turn to skiddadle away.

“Honey wait!” He calls after you but nope! You’re gone! He shoots up to chase you. You slam your door and lock yourself in your bedroom to sulk, scream, punch something and pout.

“This isnae over Bonny!” He says truthfully, not only was there the other stuff to take care of but he has to read some of that! “You cannae escape me forever!”

“I just did!” You scream through your bedroom door and flop on the bed to scream.

“This is war bonny! And I don’t lose!” You can hear his laughter from the other room. He stands there, arms crossed as if waiting for you to come out. After a few beats of silence he decides to grant you a shred of mercy and leave you to your pain. He moves to drop on the couch. He still has work to do, but at least he’s sure you’re definitely innocent. Well, innocent in terms of crime. He still hasn’t read those fics.

He sees Simon and tries to pet him. Simon, however was having none of that. He was being malicious mean and scary and stares at Johnny with a sneer that could curdle dairy as if to say that crime wise his hands are not the cleanest.

He has concluded that Johnny Upset You and refuses to be pet by him till an Official Pardon has been issued by the princess herself.

He hisses grumpily like he’s saying ‘you’ve angered the queen’s envoy, human. No cuddles for you’ and enters your room to comfort you. How? Oh he’s got a dream. Lol jk. Like this:

https://youtube.com/shorts/a-MvV2Oo4cE?si=UMNuw2ndX3Oxj9uC

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thedepressedjuggalette · 17 hours ago

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So funny thing the answer is simple for this situation and it really shows how people think and how Cait is thinking beyond selfishly.

Caitlyn and anyone who hasn't been wrongly imprisoned and can't take 5 seconds to think about anyone else's perspective on that are selfish and inconsiderate.

Cait isn't being considerate to Vi because all she cares about is being right and getting what she wants.

Think about what Cait does in S1.

She badgers Vi with questions.

Literally said "In what mad world would I trust someone like you?"

And after that food scene and a few more she asks this insensitive as fuck question: "How do you not know if your sister is dead? What do you not have parents?"

Bitch, have you never heard of an ORPHAN?

Have you not seen Zaun before?

Never heard of a chem-baron???

See funny thing is, when you live in a world of privilege, you have a hard time even conceptualizing what it's like to not have that privilege.

Think of how white people always say "well they should've complied with police!" To every single police brutality case against a black person.

Think of every single time they say "but what about black on black crime?" Or some ignorant shit like that.

That is Caitlyn.

Caitlyn is a privileged rich kid who is talking to a person who is so in debt and poor that the idea of someone not having a maid and a $5 Billion Dollar Yacht with a matching lake side condo is the equivalent of asking her if the sky is green.

She cannot conceptualize it. She'd legitimately have to be given the math and the experience in order to even get an idea of it and even then she'd have a hard time getting it.

This is why her and Ekko's interactions had to be held back so much. Ekko would not put up with her bullshit. He would've dragged her ass down to his level. Especially if we're talking In-Game Lore Ekko who legitimately hates her ass with a fucking passion.

The only way for Caitlyn to even get an idea of what it's like to be a Zaunite is if she were to live there for about a month and that would be a death sentence because no one would take her seriously.

Though not stated in show, in lore there are absolutely no laws governing Zaun.

Cait killing a kid isn't illegal.

In fact it's rather common for Piltovans to go down to Zaun to commit crimes and what's worse is that because of how poor the Undercity is, even if they did try to fight back, killing a Piltovan would get more Zaunites slaughtered.

Cait is that privileged and she doesn't understand that she is the one who holds that power in this situation and is doing so in the most obnoxious way possible. Honestly the only reason why Cait doesn't use similar language to Marcus (aka "Trencher Trash", "Sump-Rats" etc.) is likely because they knew it would make Cait look worse. And they didn't want that nor did they want to give up their Centrist take.

s2 caitvi is really making me nitpick s1 caitvi too ngl because why is caitlyn badgering vi for answers on silco right after finding out she's been beaten in prison when all vi wants is to just sit down for a minute and eat something good after 7 years?

Cait cant even give her that after all the hell shes been through shes just worried about what she wants. like dawg we have all day to chase silco and his goons can you not give this physically abused and emotionally neglected woman ONE MOMENT of peace for herself where she can enjoy home and have a proper meal? she even says it was a bad idea to get vi out...to break her out even after she knew she'd been imprisoned unjustly and was being beaten, all because vi just wanted to sit down and eat...and she's deadass mad about vi eating thats the one thing she complains about "i didnt break you out of jail to eat slop..."

and then my poor shayla was even nice enough to offer her some like broo get her out of here dfhskdfhdkh

ppl talk about vi "finally getting to be selfish" when she cant even do that shit with caitlyn either. everything she does now has to revolve around what cait wants

#caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman #caitvi #caitlyn arcane #vi x caitlyn #vi league of legends #vi arcane #arcane #league of legends #arcane league of legends #arcane lol

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skeletonh0e · 2 days ago

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You will add Edgy, yeah 🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 Write for Edgy~ 🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀

He’s hot great.

ANYWAY— since you wrote general hcs for US Sans, is it okay if I ask for the same but with Fell?

Also, I’m happy that I can get to accompany your blog since the start :)) I’ll be there for your next writing, good luck! <3

Awww thank you sm! And as for Edge, I'm tempted. He is hot you right, anyway time for the red boy. Gender neutral reader and some suggestive content because Fell is a ✨ sleazebag ✨, a minor tw for alcoholism because Fell is also a bit of a mess

Underfell Sans x Reader Headcanons

Remember how I said Swap was inexperienced and needed some time adjusting to a relationship? Same here tbh.

Granted Fell isn't completely naive nor does he have zero relationship experience, he's had hook ups, the occasional date and has certainly tried his hand at it but like?

A serious committed relationship when he's deeply invested in the person and that sentiment is 100% returned? He's out of his element

It takes a level of patience on your part, he's not a bad partner, he loves yous and god dammit he's trying! But he's utterly shit at communication, impulsive, impatient, insensitive and can be an asshole even when he's not trying to be

Doesn't help the fact that there is a part of him scared that you will leave, hurt him, betray him, and he can lash out about those feelings real easily.

You two will find your rhythm eventually, but it's not instant and even then he makes it clear he is trying his best, he apologizes when he can in his own round about way, he tries to be sweet without seeming "soft", etc, etc.

After being together for awhile you've properly got everything settled in, not that you'll ever stop having issues (that's part of being a couple) but you've basically got everything sorted out allowing a new level of comfort

A very jealous guy tbh, it once again ties back into some underlying insecurities but generally he just doesn't like it when anyone gets too close. He'll frequently insert himself into conversations or just pull you into an embrace while glaring at the poor fucker in question

The message is always clear. His.

Surprisingly handsy, it's not like there's constant PDA but he'll frequently wrap an arm around your shoulder, nippling at your neck, happily set you right on his lap and it isn't unusual for him to just straight up slap your ass before leaving

Always looking like the smugest bastard alive when he does it

More lovey dovey crap is kind of kept behind doors though, you can't mess with his tough guy image alright. Though occasionally he'll let certain gestures slide

He really softens up when he's drunk though, something that happens more frequently than it should.

Your grouchy angry "none of that soft shit" boyfriend suddenly is all over you, praising you, kissing you, nuzzling you, telling you how much he loves you and it's a little embarrassing.

Taking care of his drunk ass is a common practice, dealing with him hung over is the other one. Which yeah in the mornings he's kinda just back to his usual self

Getting him food, water and aspirin is your go to, sometimes he'll jokingly ask if you're sure you're not an angel because it's a hell of a lot better than what Papyrus does

Not big on pet names but occasionally calls you stuff like "darling" or "sweet heart", maybe "doll" depending on the situation.

He's definitely the type of boyfriend that takes on a "only I I can bully you" mentality, he'll call you out for doing something dumb or extremely lame but the moment someone else tries to do that exact same thing he slaps them on pure impulse

You do occasionally have to reign him in as he is the type of guy to let things escalate, which he does do for you...reluctantly.

He has many unique ways of showing that he cares, sometimes they are more subtle and sometimes they're more overt, however if ever asked he'll never deny his feelings for you

"Do you loooove me?"

"i think you get too much of a kick outta asking- yes"

#sans x reader #underfell sans x reader #underfell sans #underfell #red x reader #uf sans x reader #asks #requests

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mercury2venus · 14 hours ago

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“Sometimes I hold you closer just to know you’re real.”—

Just something I wrote at random. I love Louis fine self so much.

I was selfish with Louis. As he was with me. But we truly couldn’t help it. I indulged in him as if he was my favorite chocolate during the holidays. From simple glances to throes of passion his form was committed to my memory.

“ we have to leave the bed at some point darling.”

He whispered in my ear. Our essence tangled within the sheets, I cuddled to him closer “ no we don’t, we can stay here forever.”

Louis laughed deeply. His smile always touched his eyes. “ yea we can but I have business to take care of sugar, and that little one inside of you is going to be needing food soon. Now let’s get up so I can feed my girls.” He gently smiled.

How are you so sure it’s a girl ? I asked with a giggle

“Saw it in my dream. A little baby girl sat on my lap and called me papa.” He said sweetly

Well if it is a girl what we naming her ?

“Claudia, we’ll name her Claudia.” He responded

I smiled. I like that name.

There are things I have yet to know about Louis De pointe Du lac. He’s given me bits and pieces of himself and slowly I’ve been able to put together the puzzle. It’s been quite a journey.

“You gonna be gone long Lou? “. I needed to know if his business would have him out all night again.

“I’ll be home in just 2 hours Cleo. Don’t worry about me. “

“I can’t help but to worry” I mumbled

“It’s not good for the baby, I’ll be back sooner than you think.”

After making a quick meal, Louis gave me and my tummy a kiss before embedding himself into the darkness once more.

That night i heard Louis stumble in. I kept my eyes shut tight. Whatever demons he’d been fighting I pray they do not find their way to my doorstep. Louis had trouble in the past, he was honest about that, but it didn’t ease my nerves when he came waltzing in here after midnight.

“ Cleo ? You awake baby “ his thick New Orleans accent rang through the quiet room.

“Yea I am.” My voice was small, I wasn’t afraid of Louis but there was a shift in the air and that unnerved me.

“ Cleo baby girl we’re going way for a bit, i don’t have much time to explain. I’m packing our things just please get dressed.” His voice was frantic.

I didn’t ask questions. Because I knew Lou. He didn’t fear anything. Not even death itself. So whatever spooked him, was serious. I scrambled out of bed and began to throw on anything. After getting dressed we walked out of our home.

I seen 2 figures waiting for us. As I got closer I seen one blonde white man and the other of Indian descent. Their eyes travelled to Louis and I felt my legs want to give out. They looked at my Louis the way I did, and when their eyes reached me ?

Well, death seemed easier. I could just feel the earth begin to swallow me whole and—

��Cut that shit out Lestat. Don’t you dare invade her mind.” Louis spat

A smirk played on the blondes lips. “ of course “

We entered the car, as we pulled off lestat decided to make small talk

“ so any baby names” I didn’t miss the venom in his tone as if I was beneath him. Like I wasn’t worthy

“ Claudia. Right Lou ? “

I felt Louis hold me tighter. He kissed my temple and smiled.

“ yea, Claudia”

The car grew silent.

The tension began to choke me

I’d follow Louis anywhere but for the first time, in his arms was the last place I wanted to be. “ please dont say that.” louis whispered.

“Hmph. Well I am Lestat the man next to me is Armand we are old friends of your boyfriend. “

“Husband. We’re married.” I corrected him

We came to an abrupt stop.

“ Lestat keep driving. Please. “ mumbled Armand

I watched the blonde man rush out the car, to stand on the side of the road. Suddenly he doubled over and vomited.

“Dramatic.” Armand muttered.

“Is he okay” I asked with concern. Armand looked back to me then Louis then rolled his eyes

“Ask your husband.” Louis sat back with his eyes closed.

“ just sit back cleo and take a nap. You and the baby need rest.” My mind whispered.

I felt myself lean back and drift off.

OMNISCIENT POV

Armand watched Louis through the mirror.

“ don’t say anything to me” Louis spoke,

“You love her I can see that.” Armand responded curtly.

“Yea. Yea I do.” Louis ran a hand down his face.

“Be honest with her “

“I’m trying”

“She’s in a car with 3 of the undead. You’re not trying hard enough”

Please lay off this. Louis spoke into his old lover’s mind

Lestat entered the car eyes red and voice gravely.

“This was a mistake. But it is too late I suppose.” He took a pause. “Is she aware of what grows inside of her? “

“It’s a regular human child”. Louis responded wearily.

“Oh ! So that’s why we’re taking a road-trip, you’re afraid.” Lestat shook his head and focused back on the road.

Louis looked to Cleo eyes brimming with tears.

“I am. He whispered. I’ve never been more afraid.”

#louis de pointe du lac x black reader #louis de pointe du lac #interview with the vampire #amc interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #armand iwtv #lestat de lioncourt #Louis de pointe du lac x black oc #jacob anderson

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laseracronym · 2 days ago

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SFW Alphabet (Aizawa Shouta)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He's pretty affectionate in his own ways, but it's more subtle in public. In public, he's not much for kisses and hugs, but he'll let you hug him. Mostly, he keeps close to you, drawing near enough that you can feel the heat radiating from his body, walking close enough that your hands or shoulders brush. He leans in close to you and speaks in soft tones just so that he can be in your space.

In private, he's very hands on, cuddly. He'll squeeze your hip as he walks by, put his arms around you from behind and push his face into your hair. He'll gently take your hands and ask about your day, he could spend hours listening to you, if only he had the time.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Very loyal and protective. Shouta is dedicated to the people he cares about, no matter if his feelings are romantic or platonic.

You'd probably get to know each other through hero work, as that takes up a large portion of his time, so you would either be a hero yourself, or involved in the industry in some way. I think you'd have to be a bit persistent in order to become close to him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He's a big cuddler, especially if it's a prelude to a nap, he loves taking a nap with you. He likes holding you close and resting his head on your chest. You'd be his personal pillow.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Marriage never really crossed his mind, part of him doesn't think he's capable of settling down with a partner. He's used to being on his own, putting distance between himself and others. I think for the right person, he would find himself considering more (when he falls, he falls hard) and it would lead him to reevaluate his life and his priorities.

I think he's pretty good at cleaning. Clutter can accumulate, there's always worksheets and paperwork left out and he's not the best about tidying up when he's so tired, but since he's so minimalist with what he owns it's not egregious. If not tidy, he keeps things clean, what needs scrubbing is scrubbed, the washing is washed.

He can cook very very basic meals but he's mostly a takeout/microwave/jelly pack fiend.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He'd do it in person, and be very blunt about it. He wouldn't try to be mean but he can be awkward with his feelings and he'd be pushing forward a stoic face to hide any of his own hurt feelings. Not the worst break up to experience, but not the gentlest either.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I think the concept of commitment to him is more the promise between two people than the ceremony itself. That said, marriage appeals to him from a practical standpoint. He doesn't want to have to go through hoops to be by your side in an emergency. As soon as he realizes in love with you, he'd want to get married for that reason alone.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He's very physically gentle with you, especially if you're not a hero yourself. He always worries he's too rough with you, even just holding you close, like he might squeeze you too tight.

Emotionally, he's very blunt, he doesn't sugarcoat things. He's never been one to soften the blow. He tries, though, but it's a work in progress. He's also very awkward when it comes to vocalizing his affection. He has surprisingly tender, poetic thoughts about you, but the thought of voicing them makes his tongue twist in his mouth and his hands sweat like he's a schoolboy all over again.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He likes hugs in private, bringing you into his arms whenever he has the chance. His hugs are warm, tight, and prolonged. You can feel the tension seep out of his body the moment he has a hold of you. He'll press his face into your hair or your shoulder and breathe you in. He won't let go for at least a minute or two.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

A long while after realizing he's in love. He can be awkward with his feelings, and putting his heart out for someone else to see in a way that's so upfront and vulnerable would be surprisingly intimidating to him. There's not a lot that scares him, but saying "I love you" that first time would be terrifying.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He can get a little jealous, but only if someone else is actively hitting on you. If that happens, then he comes up to loom behind you and gives the other person a look that says "back off" and it's pretty damn effective. If you bring it up to him afterward, he'll act like he has no idea what you're talking about.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are slow and tender, unhurried. It's like he's trying to savor the taste of you. He loves to press a kiss to your temple or the side of your head, letting his lips rest there as he soaks in your presence. He appreciates any kiss from you, of course, but he's especially fond of when you kiss his stubbled jaw.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He's great with kids, though it perplexes him. He's always sure that they'd be scared of him, but kids have a way of sensing a good soul and they see it in him.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He's not always there with you when you wake up, unfortunately. He's late to bed, early to rise. When he does have the morning off, he's impossible to wake up, rumbling and grumbling through your attempts to rouse him like a bear in hibernation. He's also very stubborn about you leaving the bed, he'll lay himself partially on top of you to keep you in place, pulling the blankets tight around the two of you and pressing his face into your collar bone. You'll just have to resign yourself to your fate, not that you're complaining very much.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Shouta are usually spent inside. Usually you both are together in the living room, talking or watching a movie or just cuddling with each other. Sometimes, you go out with mutual friends if they manage to convince Shouta, but a quiet evening at home is more his speed.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It's very slow, bits and pieces over time with the occasional long talk in bed (he's always more open in the dark of the bedroom). It takes him a while to even start to open up, even once he trusts you. He's just used to locking pieces of himself away, not poking at the things that hurt him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He doesn't get angry very often, especially with you unless you do something reckless that puts you in danger, but then that anger is a mask for his concern. More often than anger, he gets irritated and snappish when he's overstimulated. If you're ever threatened or seriously hurt, that might be when you see actual rage from him, but not towards you, obviously.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He's very observant and remembers a lot of the little details about you. More than observant, he's genuinely interested in you, so it's easy for him to pay attention, to remember. It's through remembering these things that he finds another way to express his care, because his words often fall short (or at least he feels they do).

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first time you held hands, that first contact, the first time he let you into his space and accepted your touch. He remembers how soft and small your hand was in his, the racing of his heart, the nerves that threatened to cut off his breath. He remembers the warmth that bloomed in his chest, the irrational, fuzzy, poetic thoughts that filled his head.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He's very protective, maybe a little overprotective. If you're also a hero, he has your back in the field when he can, he keeps up to date on your activities and is willing to drop everything should you need backup. If you're not a hero, he'll make sure you have at least a little self-defense training for when you go out, he does everything he can to make sure villains don't find out about your connection to him, and when he's out with you, he's always at least a little on guard (another reason he prefers evenings at home)

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He's not one for planning dates or big romantic gestures, but he does pay attention to important events in your lives, especially if they're important to you. He's good about the little things, gifts and gestures and just making sure that he's contributing to your lives together. He remembers your favorite orders from restaurants and treats you like and runs a bath and gives you a massage when you've had a long day. He's very thoughtful.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He's really bad about looking after himself. He puts everyone else before himself and doesn't know when to quit. You will be up worrying some nights.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He doesn't care about his looks, the only thing that's close to an exception is his facial hair. He likes having a bit of scruff and he hates the occasions where he has to shave it all off.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He would. He didn't understand the concept until he fell for you, but suddenly he got it. You became an irreplaceable part of his very being, and it's as thrilling as it is terrifying to think about.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He truly, honestly doesn't care either way about having a wedding, but if you do have one, he will cry a little.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn't want a partner that treats him too much like a "project". If a partner's too interested in changing core parts about him, then he's out.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He loves a good nap, he can sleep just about anywhere at any time. He can somehow tell when the chaos around him is something that needs his attention or not, seemingly choosing when he can sleep through it.

(Let me know if there are any other characters you'd like me to do this for! I might do the NSFW version as well :3c)

#mha x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #eraserhead x reader #reader insert #sfw alphabet #laser writes

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quinnmorgendorffer · 2 days ago

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#no bc Tony is literally looking at him with the biggest heart eyes and it’s just so incredible?? brings to mind thag post I saw a few days#ago. and I gotta find it again. but it’s basically like the fact that gob is the bluth who is repeatedly said to be unlovable. the one who#is the most difficult. and yet HE is the one who ends up with this epic Shakespearean true love story. not Michael whose romances are more#plot driven and such but GOB who is over and over shown to have fail romances thag he’s not not that invested in either way#and I love that sm. me watching seasons 1-4 is like. gob is my favorite but also an ass but I still love him. s5 is me being all gob has#done nothing wrong ever/deserves only nice things. and I’ll admit I want to give him nice things in 1-4 as well but this whole development#really hits in such a satisfying way. he was willing to run away- to leave the family- for and with Tony. smth Michael always tries to do#and fails. and again that alongside his romances being not as pivotal as gobs is so interesting to me#i could be wrong but it’s the feeling that Michael HAD his grand true life changing love story already- and it was Tracey. and the loss of#of Tracey haunts him still- nearly every romantic relationship Michael has after is haunted by her.

omg i don't think I ever saw these tags before but I'm losing it omg. Gob, despite seeming to neve rhave a permanent residence with his family (remember how they didn't even know where he lived in the s3 finale? lmao), really never expressed an interest in leaving them. He planned on it in s1 during "My Mother the Car", but as soon as he realized Michael couldn't have been the cause of the accident, he decided to ditch his plans and basically save his brother. He does bad things to his family at times, sure, but he still helps them when needed in his own way, and clearly just wants them to love and respect him. Gob Love Family.

So, yes, him really being ready to leave his family? That means everything. I've talked way too much and yet never enough about how PERFECT of a romance Blunder is and I just will never get over how a silly little plot on a sitcom really is just such a profound and true romance of Shakespearan levels.

And, okay,I have to say that I find the psychology of all the characters fascinating already, but Michael and his love life truly make it even more fascinating to me. Partially because I have so many random headcanons about him and Tracey, or at least a lot I've written in fic about the two of them meeting and falling in love, but how could I NOT with how they wrote all of it? Like, Tracey truly DOES seem to be the ~epic love story~ of his life.

He literally shoots himself in the foot every time he tries to move on from her, since I don't think he literally ever can/will - maybe, deep down, he doesn't WANT to. Even with Rebel, one of the very first things he said was "my dead wife had red hair". Doesn't sound like moving on behavior, my dude!!!

And Rebel made it clear she didn't want or do committed relationships, yet he still pursued her anyway, maybe partially only because of the above mentioned reminder of Tracey. Of all his love interests, the only ones he seemed to have a chance with were Marta, Sally, and Rita. The Rita stuff is its own loaded issue i refuse to touch with a ten foot pole lol. But with Marta, he first almost ruined it by not just talking to her honestly when Gob thought she was cheating, which, if he really cared for her as much as he was convinced he did, he would've realized that was obviously not the sort of person she was. And even when they first start connecting, the narrator says that it was basically the first time he had been alone with a woman since his wife died and like...how much of that was him genuinely being in love with her and how much was it just the first time he even tried to connect with a woman since Tracey died?

And with Sally, oof. Finally got the girl and blew it instantly because of Maggie Lizer. Sally herself even pointed out how it was clearly him being unable to handle being in a relationship iirc. He literally just could not handle it. Part of it was being a martyr, sure, but much of it was just because he wouldn't allow himself to be happy. I have so much headcanon over his romance with Tracey, but since it was implied that he had a crush on her since, like, middle school with a throwaway line, he seemed afraid to live in another house properly without her (hence him and GM living in the attic of the model home), and a whole bunch of small little moments...man, I do think that was his epic love story and always will and would be.

#sorry i never actually talk about michael and his love life but i have so many THOUGHTS!!#the oldest three bluth children get me RILED UP in discussions a;lskdfj #gob bluth #tony wonder #otp: same #michael bluth #tracey bluth #ad #long post #sorry just!! thoughts!

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 1 day ago

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What pisses me the fuck off is that my parents claim to vote Republican simply because of the economy and their distaste for “big government control”.

My whole life, my mom and dad have told me that no one is ever allowed to touch me without my consent. And they have always been pro choice.

But they voted for a rapist who wants to take away the right to abortion completely.

My parents have always been socially progressive and have always told my sister and I that they don’t care about the gender of who we date / marry, as long as we’re happy. They have always been so open and loving toward my gay / trans friends.

But they voted for someone who signed an executive order against NB / trans people on day one of his presidency.

They’re fucking hypocrites.

And if I ask them about it or point out that Donald Trump making rules about gender is literally the definition of “big government control” they’ll make up some excuse. They’re constantly moving the goal post for what makes someone (Trump, mostly) awful. And it makes me so mad.

My mom always gets so grossed out when she hears about people committing sexual assault. Any time there’s breaking news about someone sexually assaulting another person, she’s visibly angry and disgusted. But she voted for a literal rapist??

And when I told her about what Matt Gaetz did, she went quiet. She had nothing to say. Her usual rant about “men and their penises” (yea, that’s a direct quote) was nowhere to be found.

I said, “yeah, so Matt gaetz can pay underage girls for sex but he called gay and trans people pedophiles and groomers. It’s crazy.”

And instead of agreeing, she was like “well name calling is wrong. Like when these people call others Nazis and racists, it’s just not right.”

HUH? People referring to Nazis and racists as Nazis and racists is not the same as calling all gay / trans people pedophiles. And if it walks like a Nazi and talks like a Nazi and salutes like a Nazi, it’s probably a Nazi.

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aghost-writer · 24 hours ago

Text

Sugar

Chapter 1

This is a Yandere BNHA Pro Heroes x Reader Fic!

MDNI!!

The soft glow of vanity lights illuminated Y/N’s face as she leaned forward, carefully applying the last stroke of crimson lipstick. The shade was bold, striking, and exactly what he liked. Y/N tilted her head slightly, studying her reflection with practiced precision. Everything was perfect—the makeup, the sleek black dress, the quiet air of sophistication that filled the luxury penthouse she now called home.

This wasn’t her place, of course. It was his. A gift. One of many. He said it suited her, that someone as beautiful as Y/N deserved to live above the world, surrounded by elegance.

The buzz of her phone on the marble counter broke the silence, the sound sharp against the stillness of the room. Y/N reached for it without hesitation, her fingers brushing the cool surface as she answered.

“I’ll be there soon, baby,” Y/N said, her tone smooth and laced with a practiced warmth.

The voice on the other end was deep and steady, carrying an undeniable weight despite the softness of his words. There was no urgency, no impatience—only quiet authority.

“Good,” he replied simply. His words were few, but they carried the kind of gravity that left no room for argument. There was a brief pause, then, “Be careful.”

The line clicked off, leaving Y/N staring at the darkened screen for a moment longer than necessary. His concern was always subtle, wrapped in a calm, almost solemn demeanor that contrasted sharply with the larger-than-life image the world knew him by.

To them, he was a symbol of hope and strength, always smiling, always reassuring. But behind closed doors, with Y/N, he was quieter. Reserved. Almost too intense in the way his gaze lingered, as if committing every detail to memory.

Y/N placed the phone back on the counter and stood, smoothing the fabric of her dress as she glanced at the city lights sprawling beneath the penthouse windows. He had insisted on this place, saying it was only right for her to be somewhere safe, somewhere worthy of her.

It was hard to argue with him. His optimism was persuasive, almost magnetic, but there was something else beneath it—something darker. Y/N had seen it in the way his expression would shift when he thought she wasn’t looking. The way his shoulders would stiffen when someone got too close to her, his blue eyes narrowing just slightly, just enough to notice if you were paying attention.

Y/N slipped on her heels and grabbed her clutch, her steps echoing softly in the spacious apartment. Tonight would be like all the others. Y/N would meet him, smile, and play the role he expected.

But even now, as the elevator doors closed around her, she couldn’t shake the weight of his presence—how it lingered even when he wasn’t there, wrapping around her like the invisible strings of a carefully woven net. ｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:

The restaurant was as extravagant as always, its grandeur fitting for someone of his stature but entirely too much for Y/N. The chandelier above sparkled like scattered stars, and the low hum of murmured conversations filled the space. Y/N spotted him almost immediately, sitting at the far side of the room, his broad frame difficult to miss even when he hunched slightly in his seat.

“Toshi,” Y/N called softly, gliding toward him with the practiced elegance he adored.

At the sound of her voice, he looked up, his blue eyes softening as soon as they met hers. There was that quiet, reserved smile of his—not the wide, grand grin the public knew him for, but something smaller, more personal. Something just for her.

Y/N leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek, the warmth of his skin lingering against her lips for a moment longer than necessary. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” she said, sliding into the seat across from him.

“You’re here now,” he replied, his tone steady, almost soothing. It was the kind of voice that felt like it could bear the weight of the world. And maybe it had.

Without another word, he gestured for her to follow him. He didn’t like to stay in the main dining area—too many eyes, too much risk of being noticed. She trailed after him, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor as they made their way to a private room in the back.

The door closed with a soft click behind them, sealing them off from the rest of the world. The room was smaller, quieter, with a single table draped in pristine white cloth. He pulled out her chair for her, a gentleman through and through, before taking his own seat.

“Order whatever you want,” he said simply, sliding the menu toward her.

Y/N gave him a soft smile, knowing the routine by now. She glanced over the menu, pretending to deliberate, though it didn’t matter what she chose. The food was never the focus of these evenings.

As the waiter left with their orders, the air in the room shifted. Toshi leaned back in his chair, his posture loose but his expression heavier. This was why they were here. This was why she was here.

“It’s been… a lot lately,” he began, his voice low, almost hesitant. He rested an elbow on the table, his hand brushing through his blond hair, now slightly disheveled from the day. “The agency’s been pushing for more appearances. More patrols. They say it’s good for morale, but it feels… hollow.”

Y/N nodded, her expression warm and understanding, the way he needed it to be. This was her role—to listen, to absorb the weight of his world so he could feel lighter, even for a little while.

“I’ve taken on a new student,” he continued, his tone softening as a faint smile tugged at his lips. “He reminds me of… well, myself, I suppose. Back when I believed I could fix everything if I just worked hard enough.”

He chuckled lightly, but there was an edge of sadness to it. Y/N reached across the table, her hand resting lightly on his. “He’s lucky to have you, Toshi,” she said gently.

His gaze lifted to hers, and for a moment, there was something raw in his expression. Vulnerability. Trust. The kind of openness he wouldn’t dare show to anyone else.

“You say that, but sometimes… I wonder if I’m doing enough. If it’s even possible to do enough.” His hand turned slightly, his fingers brushing against hers in a fleeting gesture of connection. “But then I think about what it means to keep going. To keep trying, even when it feels pointless.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a soft smile, the kind that told him she understood. She always understood. It was her job to be whatever he needed—a confidant, a distraction, a safe harbor in the storm.

As he continued to speak, his words spilling out like a dam had broken, Y/N leaned in, her gaze steady, her presence unwavering. She didn’t interrupt, didn’t rush him. She simply listened, her role in his life as clear as ever.

To the world, he was a symbol. But here, with her, he could be a man. Broken, weary, and desperately searching for solace in the one place he trusted to give it to him. ｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:

After dinner, they returned to Yagi’s penthouse—a sanctuary far from the eyes of the public, where the weight of his hero persona could melt away into the shadows of the night. The room was dimly lit, the warm glow of the city below casting a soft light across the minimalist decor. There was a quiet sense of intimacy here, the kind that only came when the world outside was shut out.

Y/N followed him in, her heels barely making a sound against the polished floor. Her gaze was steady as always, warm yet knowing. Yagi didn’t need to say anything—she knew exactly what he needed.

“Stay close,” he murmured, his voice quieter than usual, like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to share this space with anyone, even her.

Y/N nodded, slipping out of her coat and hanging it over the chair, moving gracefully across the room. The distance between them felt charged with an unspoken tension. The kind of tension that had built up over countless nights like this one. They were so close, but never fully touching, never fully there.

She moved to him slowly, her steps deliberate. Her fingers brushed the collar of his shirt, sliding down to the top button, her movements languid, almost teasing. Yagi’s gaze didn’t leave her for a second, his eyes dark but still calm. His control was palpable, but there was a flicker in them—something that told her he wanted this. Wanted her.

“Toshi,” Y/N whispered, using the nickname only she dared to call him. The intimacy in the word felt like a secret between them.

He didn’t respond right away. His hand twitched at his side, a sign of the internal battle waging inside him. But he didn’t stop her.

With delicate fingers, Y/N undid the last of his buttons, revealing the broad chest beneath his shirt. His body tensed under her touch, but his eyes softened, his breath steadying. There was no rush, no urgency. Just the quiet, lingering pull of desire.

Yagi stood still as she stepped closer, her body brushing against his. The sensation of her skin against his, the way she fit so perfectly in his arms—it was like she belonged there, like they were meant to be in this moment.

His hands moved to her waist, pulling her in, his lips meeting hers in a slow, deliberate kiss. The kiss was deep, unhurried, as though he were savoring each second. His hands wandered over her back, tracing the lines of her body like he was memorizing it.

Y/N’s hands slid up to his neck, tugging him closer as she deepened the kiss. She knew what he needed—what he craved, and she gave it to him in the way only she could. She let him take control, let him feel that illusion of intimacy and connection, as though this moment could be enough for both of them.

Their movements were slow, deliberate, as they undressed each other in the privacy of his penthouse. There were no words—just the sound of their breathing, the soft rustle of fabric, the warmth of skin meeting skin. The silence between them was almost comfortable, and yet it was filled with everything they didn’t say. Everything they wouldn’t say.

When their bodies finally met in that quiet, intimate space, it was an illusion—an escape from the world they both lived in. Yagi’s hands were gentle, almost reverent, as he held her close, but there was an urgency in the way he kissed her, an urgency that spoke of everything they couldn’t have.

Y/N responded in kind, her hands finding their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, urging him to let go, even if just for a moment. She knew what it meant to him. This wasn’t just about the physical—the closeness, the connection, the feeling of belonging was what mattered. But she also knew that once it was over, he would retreat back into himself, back into the life that demanded so much from him.

And she would leave, just as she always did.

The moment passed, their bodies intertwined in the quiet space of his penthouse. Their breaths mingled, slow and steady, but the distance never really went away. They were both still holding on to something—something that kept them tethered to this fragile illusion.

Yagi’s fingers brushed through her hair as he pulled away slightly, his eyes still locked on hers. There was something in his gaze, something unspoken, something he would never say aloud.

Y/N smiled softly, her fingers tracing his jaw, feeling the roughness of his skin under her touch. “I’m not staying tonight,” she whispered, the words slipping out almost like a comfort, a promise of what would come next.

He didn’t answer, just gave a small nod, his expression softening, almost resigned. He didn’t ask her to stay. He never did.

As she stood, slipping back into her clothes, the weight of the night felt heavy in the quiet of the room. Yagi remained where he sat, watching her with that same unreadable expression. It was always the same.

Y/N finished dressing and glanced at him once more before turning toward the door. “I’ll see you soon,” she said, her voice warm, but there was an undercurrent of something else. A reminder of the roles they played, of the space they occupied in each other’s lives, but never fully shared.

With one last look, she stepped out of the penthouse, the door clicking softly behind her. Yagi remained inside, alone again in his quiet world, waiting for her return.

And she would return. Because that was how it worked—this illusion they shared. ｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:✿｡.ﾟ+:

#yandere #yandere x reader #bhna x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #yandere bnha #mha x reader #yandere mha #mha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia

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