#but i see them in the tags all the time and i hate having to scroll sm uggggggggh

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 6

in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader are finally honest with each other. complete with tears and more than a few make-up kisses.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: angst but mostly fluff, i think this qualifies as hurt/comfort, HHEHHEHHEH, lots of kissing, so cheesy, you jokingly imply he's a slut, i need him expeditiously a/n: thank you guys for being patient with me!! ilysm!! i edited this until i hated it but i hope it's satisfactory for YOU guys..... as always please please let me know what you think!! and i already started the next part hehehe

The car ride is the worst of your life. 

Neither of you speak. 

And you find yourself wishing, pleading to god that one of you will say something to fix this—but each minute ticks by and the streets get familiar and a quiet song ends and you realize you were silly to ever think a twenty minute car ride would change anything. 

Spencer was the luckiest you’d ever been and your relationship is floating away like a balloon you forgot to hold on to—nothing more than a red dot lost to the vast blue. 

Maybe for him it’s easier. You’re pretty sure it is, as you risk one or two glances at his unreadable profile that turn into lingering, obsessive looks because you’re panicking and realizing you’ll maybe never see him this close again. It’s funny and terrible how quickly you’re remembering what it was like to see him at the coffee shop for the first time—how he was nothing but a beautiful stranger, completely unknown to you and worlds away. Now you’ve had him, sort of, and you’re turning into the girl who could never have him all over again. 

When he turns onto your street reality begins to sink in. Your heart is a short fuse inside your chest as he pulls into a spot and parks the car. The rumble of the engine cuts. The headlights stay on. 

For a moment, everything is quiet. You wish you could insert your own reality into the silence—one where you’re simply enjoying each other’s company and there’s no sense of impending doom to take your breath away. 

“Do you want to talk?” Spencer asks, looking pointedly ahead where the lights shine off the back of some other person’s car. A wayward moth dips and swirls into the high beams. You watch Spencer track it with his eyes. 

“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit quietly. The weight of everything you’d like to say sits in your stomach like lead, too heavy to divulge. It’s only been a few weeks of having to carry the truth around with you and your muscles are already fatiguing. The idea of carrying it around indefinitely makes your eyes sting. You’re already exhausted. 

Maybe a stronger person would find that last bit of energy to make a final push, to save the relationship just before it falls apart. 

But you never claimed to be strong.

Deep down, you must’ve known you weren’t ready for a real relationship. You can’t handle all of this pretending to be okay with things that hurt. Even if that's the grown-up thing to do.

“I tried. I really did, I’m sorry—I’m—”

Before you can get the words out your throat tightens around them and you bury your face in your hands. 

The sound of his seatbelt unlocking and whirring back surprises you—but you’re even more surprised when he undoes yours. Still, you move your arm so it can snap back into place and then he’s pulling you into him. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, one hand on the back of your head as you lean over the small gap between the seats, unable to stop yourself from shedding more tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry. 

For not loving you?

If it’s not your fault he doesn’t love you back—then whose fault is it? Who’ll take the fall?

But still, he’s holding you so carefully, like you’re made of porcelain. Something to be protected. Or at the very least, something to be mourned even after it’s in pieces. 

As you lean against him, lulled by the slow in and out of his breath, the inverse of yours, and the way he slips his thumb over the back of your hair in silence for a few minutes—you wonder what’s missing. Why he’s not satisfied. 

“I don’t understand you.”

The words come out flat, muffled by his coat, garbled with leftover tears. 

“What was that?” Spencer asks gently, still playing with your hair. You sniffle, adjusting your head so your cheek is to his shoulder and your lips are no longer smushed. 

“I just… I want you to explain it to me.”

“Explain what?”

You sit up just enough to meet his eyes. The movement seems to take him by surprise, but he keeps his hands on you—one slipping to your cheek and the other still loyal to your back. He brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath your eye and you cover them with your own in an effort to get him to stop treating you so kindly. But even now, when you’re mad at him for being so gentle in the way that he hurts you, you can’t help but seek the familiar callus on the side of his trigger finger. It’s an odd thing to anticipate missing, but you’ll miss all of him. You can’t imagine holding a hand without that familiar anomaly—a cairn to show you where he’s been and who you’re holding. 

He curls his warm hand around yours and you hold your joined fist out for him in emphasis, speaking louder than either of you were prepared for. 

“This! You! I understand that we don’t feel the same way about each other and maybe I can’t change that. But then you do this and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you, because it’s enough for me, and I just—I don’t know what else I can give you. I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand why I’m not... enough.” The tears are back and flowing freely, but you forge breathlessly ahead, because you’ve finally found a way to be honest and you’re not going to stop now. Spencer is frowning, lips parted and clearly confused or shocked or something, but you continue your confessional before he has the chance to interrupt. “I want to be enough, but you didn’t even give me the chance, and I don’t think it’s fair that we’re breaking up when you didn’t let me try. Maybe if you just told me, if you explained what’s missing I could fix it and you could love me back, and—please. I just want to try. Please, Spencer.”

A car engine revs somewhere far away, echoing down the street. It reverberates for several seconds, unimpeded by any other noise. Any word, any breath. 

His voice is thin when he responds a moment later, still studying your face with a kind of scrutiny that is so indecipherable you don’t know how you expect him to respond. 

“Love you back?”

You blink. 

Your stomach drops. 

For all that you’d revealed, for all that you’d willingly humiliated yourself with your pathetic supplication—you’d meant to keep that four letter word to yourself. 

What a way to make an exit from your relationship. 

Spencer is still looking at you, keeping you pinned to your seat, and as much as you wish it wasn’t the case he’s not going to let you off the hook this time. He’s going to demand an answer, and you have a 0% chance of bursting into mist before you have to provide an explanation, so you have no choice but to say something. 

What, exactly, you’re going to say—you don’t know. 

“I didn’t…”

“You didn’t mean it.”

The response comes so quickly, sharp as a slap, that you jump back slightly, a deep frown twisting your brow. Spencer makes no effort to keep his hand in yours as you slip from his grasp. 

“That’s not what I was—”

“Just say what you mean.” Silence. “Tell me.”

It’s like he’s got an ice pick to your chest. It’s like he wants you to humiliate yourself even further, to punish you for your messy indiscretions. 

“Spencer…”

It’s a warning. You’re giving him a chance to stop this before he hurts you sadistically. Before he becomes unrecognizable. 

He swallows. 

“Please.” And then, a second later, when you’re still trying to process the quiet pain in his voice and suddenly faced with the unexpected question of who is hurting who, “please, just… tell me if you meant it.”

For the first time tonight, you notice how exhausted he looks. Slightly gaunt, even paler than usual. Shadows pool deeper in the hollows of his face. His eyes look glossy, dark crescents below awaiting to catch tears you realize you’ve never seen fall. The tonal shift has you so disoriented, so out of your body like you’re seeing yourself in his own injuries—the truth becomes the only humane answer. Even if it hurts you.

“Yes. I meant it. You know I mean it.”

“I don’t know that,” he says on a shaky exhale. “How would I know that?”

And he’s got the ice pick back at your sternum. It’s tipped in poison. The mallet trembles in the air. So does your voice. 

“You told me you didn’t feel the same. You said it was new for me and different and I was going to make things complicated and you treated me like I was a stupid kid, and—and it doesn’t even matter. This was dumb. I’m sorry I said anything, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just.. I can’t do this.”

You’re about to open the door, every muscle tense as you wonder what the hell is wrong with you. What reduced you to the weepy, pathetic girl, begging a boy to love her despite knowing it doesn’t work like that—the same girl you’ve looked down your nose at in every film and TV show and in every high school and college hallway since you learned what self-superiority meant. Before you knew exactly what it felt like to be her. 

“Wait.”

He says your name.  

And of course you pause. 

You want a reason to stay. If you had more self-respect, you wouldn’t. But you know you’ll give him as many chances to give you an excuse as he’s willing to take. You knew that before your fingers met the metal of the door handle. 

“Just—hold on a second. Can you look at me?” 

You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm before turning around to face him once more. You wonder if anyone will ever have the kind of power he has over you ever again. 

The despair leaves only wisps of itself on his face—mostly he looks like he’s thinking hard about something. It’s jarring. 

“You’re talking about our phone call on Sunday, right?”

You nod petulantly with a quick teary eye-roll because obviously that’s what you’re talking about. 

Something lights in his own dark eyes as he inhales, parts his lips as if to speak, and stops himself again. Like he’s got news that he’s not sure how to break. 

“The things I said, on that call… I wasn’t talking… about you.”

Your insides feel like tangled yarn as you stare at him uncomprehendingly. 

“I mean, I was. I was talking about us. But not in the way you think, it was—” he stops, rubbing his eyes and taking a frazzled breath. “I know what it’s like to be the one who cares more. I have to assume that I’m the one who cares more because when I don’t, I ruin things. And with you, I felt like—the stakes were so high, and I thought it’d be safer for me to not say anything until I knew you felt the same. But I know that’s not fair to you so I tried to tell you over the phone that if you didn’t feel the same way it was okay. And now I’m—I’m realizing the way I phrased it was incredibly unclear and misleading, and somehow I fucked it up in a completely new way. But I wasn’t referring to you. I just didn’t want you to feel stuck with someone who can’t give you casual when you have so much ahead of you. I had no idea you felt that way about me. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”

You blink. 

And for some reason, begin sobbing. 

Spencer freezes for a moment, then tells you to stay there and you barely have the capacity to wonder what he means as you hear his own door opening then slamming shut again. A moment later he’s on the passenger side, opening your door and leaning in. 

“Hey,” he whispers, gently pulling your hands from your face and making you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But that’s good news, right? Why all the tears, lovely? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

You take a shuddering breath. 

“This is all my fault, I ruined everything because I was too scared to tell you before and now—and now—”

Stroking your cheeks to wipe away the tears is a futile effort because they just keep coming, but Spencer does it anyway, and he speaks so kindly, so evenly it somehow hurts deeper. 

You were terrible to him. And he had been prepared to accept that. He thought you didn’t love him, and he was still willing to be the subject of all your cryptic frostiness and inexplicable cruelty. 

“It is not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still right here. We’re okay.”

“But we’re breaking up, and—and I was so mean to you. That’s not okay, Spencer.”

You finally look at him. He’s close, eyes warm and wide as he looks directly into your own teary gaze, shaking his head earnestly. 

“You were confused, honey. So was I. It was just a misunderstanding. But… I know I was unkind to you. I cannot express how sorry I am for that, and the last thing I want is for us to break up, but if you think that’s what’s best, I’ll… I’ll understand.”

His voice is dangerously thin by the end, strained with impending tears of his own. But he’s eternally kind—backlit by the streetlamps and beautiful like an angel.  Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Even if it’s this. 

“I don’t want that. I don’t.” You sigh, closing your eyes briefly against the world as you realize the impending breakup had been a delusion all along. That you were going to let your insecurities and some sick pride end the relationship for you. All that despair had been for nothing. Or—maybe not nothing. You realize he still hasn’t said it back. But you won’t be a coward. It’s not worth losing him. You open your eyes.  “I just—I want us to be on the same page. And if you don’t love me yet or if you don’t wanna say it, or if you can’t, I get it—it’s okay, but if you don’t could you maybe just tell me? So that I’ll know—”

Before you can process it Spencer is leaning in, head angled to accommodate you, pressing his lips to yours so softly your breath catches and your stomach flips. Maybe softer than he ever has before, and it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it through a dark tunnel. You exhale a tentatively soft sigh against him, releasing air you don't have along with the fraught tension in most of your body. All too quickly he’s pulling away, hands still cupping your cheeks and thumbs stroking over your skin. When he speaks it’s not quite a whisper, but secret-soft. 

“How could I not be so in love with you?” 

Suddenly you can feel the world turning underneath you. Or maybe you’re just dizzy from lack of oxygen. Either way it feels good. A drop of warmth makes a splash in your stomach and slowly spreads through every vein and capillary until you’re sure you’re glowing gold. 

“Really?”

“Of course really. I’m—” he takes a breath of his own, and you realize how difficult this must be after what happened the last time he professed his love for a girl. Your chest aches for him. His voice is low and solicitous, but it wavers slightly. “I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but I was worried—I was worried the way I felt for you was… too much. I am so in love with you it scares me. I still don’t know what to say or how to act around you. When I’m gone, sometimes I imagine quitting my job, just so I can come home and see you sooner. When I have a gun in my hands, I start thinking about all the things I would do to keep you safe, or—or just because you asked me to. And if what you wanted was for me to leave you alone, I would have done that. If you wanted me to drop everything and everyone to be with you I would have done that. And I know you’d never ask those things of me. But any of them, I’d do in a heartbeat. Which is… it’s a little scary, huh?”

The final sentence is a nervous self-effacing chuckle, which you can match in sound only—one breathy attempt at a laugh from your slackened jaw. 

When that’s the only response you can manage, he clears his throat. 

“Too honest?”

You shake your head as if in a fog. 

“No. Not too honest. But I’m just… I’m trying not to cry again.”

He smooths over your hair fondly. His own eyes are shiny and full of wonder as he studies you for a short while, like you're doing something much more awe-inspiring than sniffling in the passenger seat of his car. Then one hand is dropped to your shoulder and the other braced against your seat back. Finally, he pulls back to a more reasonable distance with a shaky sigh. It’s a sound of relief. You want to hug him, and all the past hims who have ever been hurt by anyone. 

“You, um—you need to rehydrate. Do you have anything that will rebalance your electrolytes? If you don’t I can go to the store—”

“You don’t need to do that,” you assure him with a small, watery laugh, loosely grabbing the wrist that brushes your shoulder. 

“But you need to take care of yourself. And I know you haven’t been drinking enough water because you never do.”

There’s a lingering overwrought shakiness to his voice, but it’s still the most relaxed he’s sounded since he came home, and you realize that the worst is behind you. The storm that you’d been so sure you couldn’t weather is somehow clearing up. 

“I can’t believe we almost just broke up.”

He hangs his head, dropping it to the curve of your neck and groaning. 

“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about that right now. Just—” when he raises his head again, and shakes it slightly to get his hair out of his eyes, they’ve cleared, like he’s on a mission to change the subject. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you let me take care of you?”

You give him an exaggerated nod, still sniffing, and the smile that grows on his face is like seeing the sun rise above the ocean. You love his smile. You love him. 

Spencer kisses you on the cheek. 

“Okay. Let me lock the car and then we can go up.”

As soon as you get into your apartment and turn on the light Spencer goes to the kitchen. It’s a small unit, but antique and nice enough, though you prefer Spencer’s. There’s still some tension as you observe him filling a glass with water, kicking your boots off by the door—but not necessarily the bad kind. You’re not sure exactly what it is. 

“Where are you going?” He asks as you pass the kitchen area to turn on a standing lamp in the opposite corner of the room. 

“I don’t like the big light.” A warm glow emanates through stained glass as you flick it on. 

“I know that. I just didn’t realize it was a higher priority than your wellbeing.” His tone is sardonic but he’s already switching off the overhead lighting for you. You give him a wry smirk as you finally approach and take the proffered glass from his waiting hand. 

“Ambience over everything, baby.”

His brows pinch at the cavalier sentiment—you never call him baby, so you're sure he knows it’s a joke—and he shakes his head with a humorous little huff of air through his nose, watching as you drink deeply. Your hand is shaking. Spencer notices and covers it with both of his, taking the half empty glass with one and grabbing your hand with the other. 

“Adrenaline,” he murmurs, kissing your knuckles. “It’ll go away soon. Did you get enough?”

You nod, smiling small but genuinely. Emotionally exhausted or not, you’re happy. 

Spencer strays, not far, to set the glass on the counter. Then he turns to face you, bracing his palms on the ledge and just watching you for a moment with the kind of smile that makes you nervous in the best way.

He beckons you to him with nothing more than a quick tilt of his head, and you shuffle across the floor in your socks til you’re toe to toe. Without your shoes on, he feels much taller. Still he just watches you for a moment—not that you mind. Your view isn’t half-bad. The faint warm glow from the lamp casts shadows over his face, highlighting all the perfect angles, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and lips that still make you feel like a girl with a crush when you look at him. His hair is getting long. You’re unreasonably glad you still get to look at him like this. 

“Hi,” you whisper—something about the intimate dark of the room feels like a place for secrets. 

“Hi, pretty.” Spencer tucks hair behind your ear, eyes soft wherever they focus on your face like if he even looks at you too sharply you might break. “Have I told you how much I missed you while I was gone?”

He knows he hasn’t.

“Even when I was being a heinous bitch?”

Spencer laughs and it makes you smile too. The way his smile changes the landscape of his whole face will never feel any less like observing a natural phenomenon. It’s unfair how beautiful he is, and how you’re keeping him all to yourself in the dark on the fourth floor of an apartment building in DC. 

“Even then. Not sure that’s the wording I would have used.”

“I missed you too,” you admit softly. 

He maps your face with wandering eyes like he’s done a hundred times. Vaguely you wonder if he sees the same kind of beauty in you that you see in him. If he sees landmarks in your flaws and stars beyond the observable universe in your eyes. 

Spencer sweeps your hair over your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck. 

“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs. 

Butterflies fill your stomach and you nod shyly, unsure of what would come out if you tried to speak.

His free hand settles on your lower back and brings you into him until you’re chest to chest. With his other on your jaw, he bows his head, and you angle yours up, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. 

Spencer kisses you so gently it aches in your chest, still cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You can’t help wrapping your arms around his middle—before he’s pulling away far too soon. 

And he’s laughing. 

“What were you drinking?”

You frown, flustered and trying to remember a time before his lips were on yours.

“Water.”

“Before that, baby. At the bar.”

You think back even further, head muddled even more by the endearment so that it takes you a moment to recall. 

“A Shirley Temple. Derek brought it to me. Why? Is that bad?”

“No,” he says, still smiling as his lips brush yours. “You’re perfect. You taste like candy. It’s cute.”

Oh. You feel warm as he presses another kiss to your lips—and this time you insist on him staying awhile. He’s happy to oblige. 

Spencer kisses you soft and careful at first, and then deeper, but still so slow, until you can’t help the way you’re bunching the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and rising on your toes to try and get impossibly closer. He kisses you the way you’ve been needing him to since he left, long and unhurried and sweet—and takes everything you give him, siphoning away all your leftover turmoil and angst until you’re weightless. You’re deprived of oxygen, you’re dizzy, and you don’t care at all. 

“I love you,” you breathe against him before he captures your lips again with a hum that flips your stomach, his hand rubbing over your hip. 

“Say it again,” he mutters against your mouth a second later, brushing hair away from your face. 

It comes out a little mumbled this time between kisses, but it comes out all the same. 

“Love you.”

He sighs into you—relief that mirrors your own. 

“I love you.”

It seems like the kind of thing that will never stop sounding perfect from his lips. 

A final deep kiss shortens into a series of smaller ones, and then he’s pulling away slowly, brushing the corner of your mouth affectionately. 

Both of you require a few deep breaths—a moment to let your sparkling eyes wildly chart each familiar curve and convex and shade and shadow of the other’s face—before either of you can speak. Spencer breaks the silence first. 

“I’m sorry.”

You frown, stirred from your brainless bliss by his unexpected apology. 

“For what?”

The fiery glow in his eyes dampens slightly. 

“For what I said at the bar.”

Oh.

That.

It feels like a lifetime away—memories seen through someone else’s eyes. Words like blows from a less familiar mouth. 

You look away. For a while, you’d forgotten about that. Ideally he wouldn’t have reminded you. 

At least he doesn’t make you look at him. He just strokes your hair, watching you examine the tiled counter. His voice is soft and soothing, like he’s appealing to a scared rabbit. Or maybe something angrier and with more teeth. 

“You’re not immature, or badly behaved, or thoughtless. I was having an emotional reaction, I got defensive, and I lashed out. It was unfair and unkind of me to throw those things back in your face when I know how much trust it takes for you to be vulnerable with me. There’s nothing I can say or do that will adequately make up for that, but I want you to understand that I didn’t say any of it because it was the truth. I said it because I didn’t understand how you were feeling and I was hurt. I was insecure and I acted juvenile. I am so, so sorry, honey. You don’t have to forgive me, but you do need to know that none of it is true.”

Once you bite your lip long enough to be sure you won’t cry again, you speak. 

“It’s okay,” you insist with a cheerfulness as natural as hard plastic, something in your chest twinging. “I was mean too. Like you said, we were both confused.”

“It is not. I made you cry.”

Sometimes you forget that he’s not like other people. He’ll never accept anything less than the barest truth. So you look back up at him and speak with a level of honesty that you hope satisfies him. 

“I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. And I have insurance because Derek said he and Emily would kick your ass if you’re mean to me again.”

You hear the sad humor in his voice. His hand runs up and down your back. 

“If I’m ever mean to you again, I personally invite you to kick my ass. And then let Derek and Emily have their turn.” He thumbs at your cheek, studying you in silence for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take it back.”

You stand up a little straighter. Spencer tracks you with his eyes, noting the way you smile slightly. 

“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he admits, barely a whisper and the truth of it so heavy you can feel it too. 

But for tonight you can’t contend with more weight. 

“You know what you could do right now?”

The mischief in your tone is obvious, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to let you move on from this so quickly. But eventually he plays along, pressing his thumb into the dip of your back and speaks lowly, just as you’d hoped he would. 

“What’s that?”

You smile slyly. 

“You could kiss me again.”

“Hm… I don’t know, three times in one night? Sounds a little excessive.”

“Do you want to be forgiven or not?” You huff. He smiles lazily, already dipping his head to press his lips to yours. 

“I thought I was already forgiven.”

“Apologies can be retracted.”

“Ah.” His next words are mumbled as his lips ghost yours. “Well we wouldn’t want that.”

Spencer puts you out of your misery, not bothering to warm you up to it before he’s kissing you with a deep need. It’s still languid, and not hungry, exactly—it’s more like an aching, mind-numbing thirst. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming to have all of his burning focus pinpointed on you like this. Both hands come to cup your face and you wonder if he wants you in ways that he doesn’t entirely understand, just as you want him. You wonder if anything could possibly sate this desire to possess him completely and for him to possess you, to trade corporeal forms—or if it’s just something you’ll have to live with like a metaphysical itch you can’t scratch. As he forces you to tip your head back for him, using his height to his advantage, breathing deeply against you and attempting to push himself impossibly closer, you begin to think he understands exactly how you feel. 

As soon as you’d sensed he wanted it, your lips had parted for him. He knows he could have any part of you. He knows how eager you are to give yourself to him. You’ve done everything to prove it, and yet you’ve never needed him quite like you do ask he pushes off the counter and slowly backs you against the wall, protecting your head with a hand as the paintings rattle ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth and he kisses you greedier still, but his hands don’t stray from your cheeks. 

Not until, that is, you hook your right leg around his left, and he catches it, fingers wrapping under the bend of your knee. 

Never in your life have you regretted picking jeans rather than a skirt more than you do right now. 

But to your disappointment, Spencer slows down to a halt—pulling his lips from yours like they’d been stuck by molasses until he’s far enough away to study you wildly, panting just as you are. His hair hangs over his smoldering eyes. He’s disheveled. It’s sexy. 

“What?” You whisper, voice surprisingly hoarse.

He looses a dry, abashed laugh. The flush he’s sporting is incredibly charming. 

“I’m supposed to be playing nice with you.”

Spencer says it like it’s a mild hindrance. Something frissons in your core. You smile a little wider as you continue to catch your breath, which seems to please him. 

“Playing nice?”

“Being gentle. I’m not supposed to push my favorite things against walls when they’re delicate.”

Your face heats at the way he speaks of you—if it weren’t Spencer, if you didn’t know he really doesn’t think of you as an object, you’d be pissed. But instead all you can think about is how good it feels when he calls you his. 

“According to who?”

His eyes dart between yours and then down to your lips several times before he averts them to the wall beside you with an intensity that could burn holes through the plaster. Is that how he looks at you?

“According to me. I think… god, you're going to hate me for this. But I think I need you to kick me out.”

You drop your leg at the same time as you do your heart. 

“What?”

“I know,” he says, over-apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that escalate. But we can’t… do anything tonight.” Before you can protest, he rushes to explain himself. “It’s just that it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, actually, and I doubt either of us have slept very much, and I think you’re really drained, and probably not thinking super clearly. I don’t think you’re in the best place for decision making.”

You look pointedly down to where he still has you pressed to the wall. 

“I think I’m in a great place.”

At that he steps back, but lets his hands find yours and pulls you away from the wall—just not quite as close as before. His nose bumps against yours as he speaks low and sweet. 

“I understand that you want me to stay right now. But it’s not a good idea to associate fighting with physical pleasure. That can set some really dangerous patterns.”

“We’re not fighting,” you plead, matching his tone as you look up at him with big eyes. His fingers lace with yours. 

“You’re right. Maybe fighting was the wrong word. But we had some pretty intense conversations today, didn’t we?”

Reluctantly you nod. 

“Right,” he agrees. “Same premise. We need to be able to have those conversations without getting distracted.”

In a last ditch attempt to get him to change his mind, you give him your best approximation of the imploring, wide-eyed gaze he sometimes uses on you. Something not entirely smile and not entirely smirk twists the corners of his mouth. When he ducks down to kiss you quickly, you reciprocate, but you lack the enthusiasm of earlier. 

“Hey.” 

“Hm,” you respond, dejectedly. 

“Don’t get all grumpy because I don’t put out.”

That puts a disgruntled little smile on your face as he probably knew it would. 

“I guess you just gave it up easy to all those other women.”

He grabs your chin and gives you a final peck. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been with other women.”

“Mhm,” you grumble good-naturedly, pushing away from him and going to the door to undo the deadbolt. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“Wow. I really must have overstayed my welcome if that’s the goodbye I get.”

You turn back around, brows raised. 

“Oh, I was prepared to be very welcoming. This is your doing.”

“Uh-huh. Come here.”

Happily you skitter back across the few feet of wooden flooring and wrap your arms tightly around him one more time, pressing your cheek to his chest. He’s ready, winding his arms over yours and rubbing your back. It’s eerily similar, you realize as he presses his face into the concave of your shoulder, to when he’d left on that most recent case. 

But at the same time—everything’s different. 

And you won’t make the same mistake twice. 

“Hey,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer pulls back to look at you, a similar grin on his face. 

“Hey what?”

“I remembered what I was gonna say.”

The grin widens. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. 

“Tell me.”

“I was going to tell you that I love you. And—I hope you’re not one of those people who’s uncomfortable being told that often. Because if that’s the case I’m really going to annoy you.”

“I’m not that kind of person,” he assures. “Tell me as often as you can.”

“But you should say it back. It’s more polite that way.”

“I love you,” he murmurs, in a voice more serious than your teasing tones had been but still soft and sweet around the edges. “You know, people talk about love as if it’s completely irrational and illogical. But with you… I think the world actually makes more sense than it used to. I understand things I never did before. You’ve taught me a lot.”

It’s like a lightshow in your stomach. You wonder if he has any idea the effect his casual musings have on you.

“You already knew everything.”

“Not everything,” Spencer whispers. “Not about the things that matter.”

And you’re fresh out of teases. All you can do is look up at him with big eyes again, in awe of the fact that you get to keep him after all. 

“Will you text me when you get home?” You request, voice reverent in the wake of an admission you could never hope to top. 

“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod, because it doesn’t even matter if you had other plans tomorrow. They’re as good as cancelled. 

Spencer kisses your cheek, and you get the sense that things are still being left unfinished. There’s an unresolved tension that you can’t shake, even after all the apologies and kisses and sweet words. Still, he made a point with his talk about not mixing argument with pleasure, and you’d like to respect those wishes because you respect him—even if every atom of your being shakes with desire to keep him locked in your bedroom, hidden away from the world together, for as long as you can possibly manage. 

Eventually, you loosen your hold, and you let him go. He lingers at the door, hands in his pockets, just watching you and mirroring your small smile as you hold onto the counter with an iron grip to keep yourself in check. After he finally peels his gaze away from yours and silently closes the door behind him, you stand there, staring at the wood for at least a minute.

Once you manage to shake yourself from your revery with a deep breath, you grab your glass from earlier and stand in front of the sink, watching it fill with a white jet of water. It’d be a shame to admit it to him, but maybe Spencer is right. Maybe you do need time to emotionally digest today. After all—that was technically your first argument. It seems to have left you sort of wound up. Not in a bad way, per se—maybe you just need to take a shower, let the hot water roll over your shoulders and wash away the frenetic energy that clings to you. 

Still, something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight, even if you do take the world’s longest shower. You’re simply too high-strung. You wonder if having Spencer here would fix that or make it worse. But ultimately, he’d made the call that it was a bad idea for him to stay, and you’re generally inclined to trust his judgement. 

The thought makes you laugh into your cup as you drink. Even after the debacle that was the past week, you trust him to know what he’s doing. Maybe you need to rethink that, at least temporarily, until he’s had a chance to redeem himself. 

Just then, your front door is opening with absolutely zero warning and slamming shut again before you can finish whipping around. Your heart threatens to choke you and you almost drop your glass, clutching your chest. 

“Jesus, you—”

But the words die in your throat as Spencer storms toward you, shrugging his coat off with a white-hot chill in his eyes. It’s enough to freeze you in place, heart drumming against the confines of your ribs. 

“You really need to start locking that door,” he breathes, tossing his jacket on the counter before grabbing your face and crashing his lips into yours, palms pressed to your jaw and fingers pushing into your hair. You stand there, hands hovering in air before you gain the wherewithal to blindly set the glass down behind you. Your heart is pounding as you immediately submit to the kiss, whining softly against his lips and cautiously seeking stability in the fabric of his shirt. Spencer pulls away only briefly, allowing you to gasp for much-needed air. His brown eyes are like molten gold on you, pupils blown wide and wild as he scans your face, taking heavy breaths of his own. “Anyone could just walk in.”

[youreverydayfangirl]

afterglow

pairing: charles leclerc x australian! reader

summary: y/n made a rash decision, or in which charles fights for his girl

warning: age gap relationship, hate, teeniest angst to fluff

a/n: pt 3 guyss

find pt 1 here and pt 2 here!!!

yourusername has posted

liked by charlesleclerc, francisca.cgomes and 8, 987, 374 others

yourusername WONDERLAND TOUR is officially a wrap guysss

francisca.cgomes my bestie is so talented and gorgeous

→ yourusername francisca.cgomes STOP I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

→ yourusername I CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN

→ user1 your honor i love them

charlesleclerc so proud of you

→ yourusername thank you charles

→ user2 PARENTS

oliviarodrigo NEW MUSIC WHEN

→ yourusername oliviarodrigo SSHH

→ user2 WHAT DO YOU KNOW

user2 and people said she was a gold digger when she already has MILLIONS

user3 i miss her and charles so much

user4 charles in the likes i see 👀

user5 he still wants her so bad omg

user5 and people said she was the obsessed one

user6 CHARLES COMMENT OMG

user7 no cause she started single, they started dating, got engaged and broke up all during this tour

→ user8 STOPPP

yourusername has posted

liked by charlesleclerc, francisca.cgomes and 6, 798 365 others

yourusername girls trip w my fav w @ francisca.cgomes

tagged: francisca.cgomes

francisca.cgomes tea was spily not only metaphorically but literally

→ yourusername francisca.cgomes STOPPP YOU SAID YOU WOULDNT TELL

→ francisca.cgomes i lied

→ yourusername traitor

→ francisca.cgomes hehe

→ user1 you should pay for her therapy francisca.cgomes

liked by creator

→ user2 girl what tea 👀☕

→ francisca.cgomes steaming hot tea

→ yourusername francisca.cgomes SHUT UP

charlesleclerc gorgeous

→ user3 get me a man that pines for me the way charles does for y/n

→ user4 word its been months

yourusername has posted

liked by charlesleclerc, pierregasly and 9, 287, 637 others

yourusername life recently

tagged: francisca.gomes, lilymhe, oliviarodrigo

francisca.cgomes shoulde put the photo in where you stacked it

→ yourusername francisca.cgomes wow i see how it is

lilymhe i missed you on the grid

→ yourusername ME TOOO

oliviarodrigo hehehe im excited

→ yourusername same omg

→ user1 WHAT IS IT TELL MEEEE

charlesleclerc the most beautiful girl ever

pierregasly i heard that charlesleclerc saved 55 orphans from a burning building

landonorris charlesleclerc bought everyone on the grid a free round

carlossainz55 charlesleclerc let me drive his new car.

maxverstappen1 charlesleclerc saved my cat from a tree the other day

lewishamilton charlesleclerc babysits roscoe all the time for me

oscarpiastri charlesleclerc payed for my tuition. thanks dad.

loganseargant charlesleclerc saved me from a cricket

alexalbon charlesleclerc saved my dog the other day. hes a good man savannah.

georgerussell ohhhhh

→ carmenmmundt 🤦‍♀️

georgerussell charlesleclerc bought me a new ferrari

user2 what is going on in the house of commons

yourusername has posted two stories

caption 1 a bit heavy

caption 2 feeling pretty spoilt

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris and 654, 786 others

landonorris maybe he does have game

pierregasly that works aswell ig

charlesleclerc mon amor

yourusername i love you so much you don't even understand

charlesleclerc no one will ever even begin to understand how much i love you

charlesleclerc i need you more than oxygen

yourusername has posted one story

caption 1: if you know you know

liked by charlesleclerc, francisca.cgomes and 567, 897 others

charlesleclerc i can't wait to see you today

yourusername me to my love

francisca.cgomes your stunning omfg

yourusername STOPP ITT

yourusername has posted

liked by charlesleclerc, francisca.cgomes and 15, 678, 892 others

yourusername i heard he saved 55 orphans from a burning building

tagged: charlesleclerc

pierregasly charlesleclerc i told you it would work

→ charlesleclerc it didnt

→ pierregasly sure it didn't

charlesleclerc my eternal sunshine

→ yourusername i love you so much stop it

yourusername has posted

liked by charlesleclerc, oliviarodrigo and 20, 485, 383 others

yourusername i'm excited to annouce that my third album afterglow comes out next thursday guysss. this album was along time coming and it has been pieced together in a story for you guys to fully understed my perspective over the past two years. from heartbreak, to peace, to understanding what true love feels like. the title track 'afterglow' will feature oliviarodrigo much love you guys.

yourusername pinned

the tracklist:

you're losing me, this is me trying, i hate it here, illicit affairs, the prophecy, loml, the black dog, bye, guilty as sin?, begin again, so highschool, dancing with our hands tied, so american, king of my heart, you are in love, call it what you want, daylight, but daddy i love him, afterglow ft olivia rodrigo, paper rings, lover, timeless, the manuscript

charlesleclerc pov you've already heard the songs

→ youusername pov you should shut up

francisca.cgomes so excited

liked by creator

oliviarodrigo it was an amazing experience getting to collab with you

liked by creator

_______________

a/n: happy ending!!! also i will probably end up doing a pt4 at some point with wedding fluff.

[fairyhaos]

⌑ damned chivalrous captain // lee chan

knight!dino x knight!gn!reader, 1.5k words

tags: medieval fantasy au, both yn and chan are knights teehee, kinda rivals to lovers, only one bed trope,,, gone wrong

notes: ib the idea chan is wayyy too nice for the only one bed trope to work bc he is wont impede on ur personal space if you made it clear that you'd be uncomfortable with that. get urself a man who respects ur boundaries like knight!lee chan

“I’m sorry,” the innkeeper says, her face apologetic, “But we only have a one-bedroom room left.”

You kind of want to fall to your knees in exasperation right then and there.

It’s been a long, tiring day of riding with the rest of the King’s knights and having a long, tiring, magical fight with a gaggle of evil wizards (which would have been a lot easier if they’d listened to you and brought the Court Sorcerer along too) and you really, really want to just go to sleep. In a bed. By yourself.

But of course, the Three Fates hate you, so you’re going to have to share a room with the man next to you as you both anxiously talk to the owner of this inn.

You’re just contemplating whether you have enough energy to grab the woman by her collar and threaten her into getting you separate rooms when the man next to you places a hand on your shoulder, placating.

“We’ll take the room,” he says, and now you’re contemplating whether you should grab him by the collar instead. “Thank you for allowing us to stay.”

Lee Chan smiles, as gracious as ever, and his fingers dig into your arm slightly, warning you to be civil. You roll your eyes, grit out a ‘thank you’ to the innkeeper as Chan pays, and he directs a small smile towards you, as if pleased with your show of manners.

Lee Chan.

Captain of the King’s Order of Knights, the Crown Prince’s most trusted friend, two-time dragon slayer and an all-round incredible, kind, chivalrous guy.

God, you hate him.

“If you could have just let me threaten her a little bit,” you complain some minutes later, the two of you seated around the small table in the room you’ll be sleeping in. “I could have gotten us a deal. Two separate rooms. Or at least, a room with two beds.”

Chan just smiles thinly, and he looks more exhausted than you’ve ever seen him. “Maybe,” he says. “But what about the people who were originally in those rooms that you’d be kicking them out of?”

“Yes, well—”

You huff, crossing your arms. It’s one of his many irritating traits. Always being so good.

“This room is so small,” you say instead, looking around the room. There’s a small window on the farthest wall, overlooking the starry landscape of rolling hills. The curtains aren’t drawn, and the light from the fireplace is dim enough that you can see both your reflection and the darkness of the world outside.

You’re an awful long way away from court. It’s the reason that you’ve all lodged at an inn for the night, the fight with the wizards having drawn the knights further into the rural areas than originally intended, and everyone far too exhausted to bear making the three-day ride back home whilst setting up small camps in the middle of nowhere. 

Because of this, you were initially overjoyed when Chan suggested that the knights take refuge in an inn that was on the way back. Now, however, you’re reconsidering that joy, given the fact that you have to sleep in the same room as him.

A room which is awfully small, with an awfully small bed.

“You don’t have to share a room with me if you don’t want to, Lieutenant,” Chan says, raising an eyebrow as he stands up to take off his heavy cloak. “If you’d like, I could send you back down to the stables with the rest of the nights. I just thought that, as Lieutenant, you’d prefer to be treated with a little more respect.”

You wince, and uncross your arms. “No, sir,” you say dutifully. “And I'm very grateful for your esteemed kindness.” 

He smiles, lips twitching upwards at your exaggeratedly formal tone, eyes dancing with mirth in the flickering warmth of the fireplace light. It makes you smile too, despite yourself, before you turn to look back at the bed and frown. 

“However, I'll obviously be the one sleeping on the floor,” you say matter-of-factly, and look over at him again. “You can take the bed.”

That makes Chan raise an eyebrow, and he begins to unbuckle the metal arm braces of his armour. 

“No, you’re not. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“What? No. I will.” 

The wooden floor is covered by coarse fur rugs, but they’re all a little too threadbare for comfort, and sleeping on them would give Chan backache for days. You are, if anything, an excellent Lieutenant, so there’s no way you’re subjecting your Captain to something that painful, even if him and his perfectly kind gentlemanliness always get on your nerves.

Chan waves away your words. “I paid for the room, so I get to choose. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoff. “Like I’ll let you do that.”

He tilts his head. “It wasn’t something to be debated. You’re taking the bed.” He sets the pieces of armour into the table, and jabs a finger in your direction. “And that’s certainly not a way to talk to your superior.”

“Captain,” you emphasise, annoyedly. “I’m not letting you do that.”

“Lieutenant,” he says back, mocking your tone with a smile. “I’m not letting you do that.”

You frown. “Fine. Let’s both sleep on the floor.”

There’s a short pause, as you both survey the floor. The bed is pushed up against the wall, and with the tiny size of the room, if you both sleep on the floor, you’ll probably end up lying as close together as if you’d both taken the bed.

“Nevermind, I don’t want to be that close to y—”

“No, it’ll hurt your back—”

You blink at his statement, but Chan doesn’t even bat an eye.

“I can't have my best knight getting back pain from sleeping on the floor when there's a perfectly good bed,” he argues, and then gestures to the offending piece of furniture that you've been bickering over. “I, on the other hand, will be fine on the floor. Come on, Lieutenant. Have the bed.”

There's a part of you that still wants to protest, weirdly annoyed that the Captain is making such sacrifices for you. “But you're the superior officer. Surely you should take it.”

Chan just smiles, seemingly at ease even though you're fighting him so insistently over such a small little thing. Any shorter tempered captain would have blown up at you right now.

“Just take the bed, Lieutenant. And that's an order. I know how tired you get during long quests like this,” he adds, gentler, and the tone makes you blink. 

Sure, you know that Lee Chan is kind, but it's surprising to hear him be so… soft. Caring. Especially towards you, seeing how your relationship has, up until this point, been one mostly consisting of constant bickering and eye rolls and snarky smirks in an attempt to rile each other up.

A Captain and his Lieutenant were fierce allies, of course, and you would stay loyally by his side during any battle at all, but that didn’t mean you were exactly friends.

Right now, though, as he smiles at you, hair gently tousled and jawline turned soft in the firelight, you can’t help but admit that he’s, well. He’s something. He’s something enough to make your heart squeeze weirdly in your chest as you concede with a sigh.

“Since it’s an official order, I suppose I have to take the bed,” you say, in the most long-suffering voice you can muster, and Chan laughs.

It takes you a while to register his next words, your pulse thrumming far too loud in your own ears at hearing his laugh.

(Why is your heart acting up like this?)

“Glad to see that you’re able to follow orders as well as ever,” he says drily, but there’s a warmth in his voice as he takes off his cloak, and places it down on the fur rugs on the floor. “Now get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

You watch as he settles down on the floor, and you can immediately tell from his face that it is not comfortable in the slightest. Before you can even think of protesting, however, he shoots a pointed look at the bed, and the message Get into that bed before I make you is clear in his eyes, so you grudgingly comply.

Damned chivalrous captain, you grumble to yourself, settling under the covers. He can’t even let you feel irritated at having to follow his words. You pull the covers up over your cheeks, as if that will help you hide their warm flush from yourself.

“Um… Capt—I mean, Chan?”

It feels weird, to address Chan by his first name, but you’re making your next statement as his… well, his kind-of friend, not as his Lieutenant. And thankfully, despite your awkwardness, Chan’s voice is still as kind as ever as he replies.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Thank you,” you say, the words carrying softly through the small room. “You know. For just being nice, all the time.”

Above the peaceful crackling of the fire, his responding laugh is quiet but, oddly, fond. 

“For you? Always.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @melodicrabbit @kikohao

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 16

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

best friend, baby by @ghosttotheparty*

“You— You make me feel so… good,” he finishes lamely, his head void of any words that could describe it, because how can Will describe the peace he finds in Nico’s presence, or the way he feels like he can finally breathe whenever Nico looks into his eyes? “You’re my favourite person,” he breathes. “My best friend.”

hooooooo boy the intimacy tag was NOT joking. i was gagged. yall tell me all the time how high u value will angst and like....this one DEVASTATED me for him??? like do yall ever think about how the first dialogue we hear from will in nico's perspective is self-loathing. yall ever think about how nico has always known him hating himself. well this author did. "i know you hate yourself but just because you hate yourself doesnt mean everyone else does too" hey what if we FOUGHT. also im going back in to all my FRFs to star my FAVE FAVE FAVE fics bc this is one of them LET ME TELL YOU.

2. just a dumb game by @ghosttotheparty

Nico di Angelo is not a party person. But Will Solace is going to be there. So.

they are SO FUCKING GAY and SO FUCKING IN LOVE and SO FUCKING STUPID. god i love them so fucking bad like they are inherently down bad obsessed with each other and this is how they should be. this is the way of the world.

3. even in the silver light by @ghosttotheparty

Nico is back. Will is still smitten.

first of all. latino and nb will. thank you. second of all. i am (obviously) obsessed with this author bc they KILLLLLL w burning intimacy. like you have no idea they write them like there is a twice burning fire only alive within them it's CRAZZZYYY. i also fckn LOVE that this is like. okay so the author says its plotless and it is kind of 45k of plotless, yes, but idk theres something to be said of love as a plot?? of learning and loving each other as a storyline.

4. splash by @ghosttotheparty

Annabeth is reading her favourite book. Someone walks directly into her.

yeah okay i think this is another one author week. sue me. this fic made me GRIN okay. it was so fucking cute and sweet and soft and autistic annabeth my beloved!! my love and light!! they are so in love in every universe fr and i fckn LOVE them dude i am OBSESSED. when this author writes people together it's as if you can hear them click.

5. isnt she lovely by @ghosttotheparty

Their eyes always meet in the halls. Her eyes are grey and shiny, and they make Percy think of stormy skies and marble sculptures. (She could be a marble sculpture, in the entrance of a museum, surrounded by scholars and artists and mesmerised passersby. Fucking beautiful in a way that only art ever is.) - - - Percy has had a crush on Annabeth since eighth grade. (He doesn’t know she likes him too.)

percy hitting the ground when annabeth kisses him 😭😭 HES SO REAL. i just recced this fic on instagram and i am here reccing it again bc it is EXCELLENT. i rly rly love to see pjotv percabeth in fic like i DO. theyre so fucking cute. and i LOVE how this author writes autistic annabeth!! it is so important to me!!! and this one is so CUTE like percy had such a huge crush on him.....like not just he liked her he had a CRUSH on her. god. i am melting.

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

[discordantwritings]

Feeling Better

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, we out here monsterfucking, Jinbe has two dicks, oral sex, fingering, double penetration, PiV sex, anal, belly bulge, use lube guys don’t listen to me

WC: 4.2k

Summary: You’re feeling down, but thankfully Jinbe finds you and gives you all the comfort you need.

Notes: sorry I’ve been ✨depressed✨ so I haven’t written too much but then the cure for being ✨depressed✨ was writing Jinbe comfort so. It all works out.

Tagging: @keiva1000

The aquarium bar was lit only by the lights in the tanks at this time of night, slowly shifting shades of blue thrown about the space as you curled up into yourself in one of the crooks of the long bench. You came here to calm yourself down but it seems the melancholy colors only drag you further into your own sadness, tears streaming down your face despite yourself.

You couldn’t pinpoint one good reason why you felt so painfully empty. Every day you were surrounded by people you were lucky to call your friends, going on adventures across the world, helping people. And yet still sadness crept up on you some nights, clenching your chest and refusing to let go despite all logic. The swimming of the fish around you, that normally fascinates you, feels almost fake as you stare at them for far too long.

You’re about to pull a blanket over your head and try and sleep through the tears when you hear heavy footsteps walk by the entrance and then stop. You do your best to stifle your crying but when a voice calls your name you can’t manage to call back.

It’s Jinbe, probably just getting off of his watch. You try and keep your face hidden but there’s only so much you can do as he slowly walks over.

“Hey, are you okay?” His voice is soft and laced with concern and all the effort you’ve put forth to stop your crying crumbles immediately.

You can barely see his face through your tears but he’s at your side immediately, kneeling on the ground to be more level with you. “Are you hurt? Did something happen?”

You shake your head no and bury your face in your hands. A large hand gently rubs your shoulder as you sob. You’re not sure how long you’re crying before you can pull yourself together, rubbing the tears from your face.

“‘m sorry…” You mumble as you dot the remaining tears from your eyes.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Jinbe gets up and sits next to you, strong hand never leaving your shoulder.

“No this is- it’s so stupid.” Your voice cracks as you feel emotions creeping up your throat again.

“I can assure you it’s not stupid.” He squeezes your shoulder gently. “Would it feel better if I gave you space?”

You furiously shake your head, suddenly hating the idea of being left alone as you feel tears welling up in your eyes again.

“Do you want me to sit next to you? I could hold you if that would make you feel better.” From anyone else you might have thought the offer was hollow but with Jinbe you know he’s sincere.

“If it’s not too much-“ You don’t even need to finish your sentence before strong arms are lifting you up and sliding you into his lap.

You’re sideways on his lap, legs hanging over his large thigh and your side tucked into his chest. There’s a few moments where you’re stunned out of your thoughts by how easily you were maneuvered and how muscular his thighs feel beneath you. But the second your brain catches up and you realize how tightly you’re being held it all comes crashing back.

You dig your face into his shoulder as tears come out again- you try to tell him that you’re sorry and it’s nothing serious but your words are all lost against his firm heartbeat near your head. It’s not long before he starts to hum, a tune you distantly remember from Brook’s playing, and the low reverberations from his chest to yours help your breathing slow. Eventually you’re able to steady out your breaths- partially from how exhausted you are but more so from the constant presence of your crew mate.

There was something about Jinbe that was always so steadying, even before this moment. An immovable and fierce presence that was somehow still endlessly kind and patient. You’re not sure how that was all wrapped up into one fishman but you were always grateful for it. And now, leaning into his chest, you appreciate him more than ever.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is soft and you feel his thumb rubbing circles on your back as he keeps you against his chest.

“I don’t know…” You answer honestly. “It’s just- I know it’s not logical. And I know once morning comes all these stupid emotions will be gone. Sometimes they just sneak up on me.”

“Emotions are like the tides like that. Controlled by forces we can’t see, ebbing and flowing endlessly. Do not feel silly for not being able to control the tides.”

“That’s…” You huff out a small laugh. “How do you always have just the right thing to say?”

“Years and years of experience.” You aren’t looking at his face but you can hear that wide smile. “And my experience is always available whenever you need it.”

“This is too much to ask of you already.” You say, referring to the fact you’re still being held and comforted despite the worst of your emotions having been spent already.

“It is not. Actually…” He trails off and you look up at him after a few moments of silence. “Never mind.”

Your brows knit together as a traitorous thought that you’ve done something wrong creeps into the back of your mind. “What?”

“No it’s-“ His eyes meet yours and to your surprise you can make out a small dusting of darker blue on his cheeks. “It’s selfish of me.”

“Now you’re just confusing me.” Worries have dissipated but his words still leave you with too many questions.

“I enjoy having you in my arms.” He confesses, movement stilling as he watches your reaction.

It takes a few seconds for his words to sink in but when it does you find a heated blush creeping up your neck. You never considered that Jinbe would like you like that, given the species difference, but you realize it’s not weirder than the way you feel in this moment. How much his presence has always made you feel better, how you felt so protected and cared for whenever he was around.

It was more than just the momentary emotional comfort that had kept you seated in his lap past your crying session.

“I… enjoy being in your arms.” You finally respond, eyes darting down to your lap.

Silence hangs in the room as his hand slides up and down your back again in a comforting motion. You find yourself curling up slightly, heels on his thigh as you angle yourself inwards towards his body. Your fingers play with the collar edge of his kimono absently. The blue hue of the room is no longer somber but instead calming as it glows against Jinbe’s similarly colored skin.

“How do you feel?” He asks after some time, gently breaking the silence.

“Better.” You respond honestly, the weight of sadness having long left your chest.

“Is there anything more I could do for you?” His fingers creep up your back and eventually come to play with the ends of your hair.

“Oh- I’m keeping you up aren’t I?” You sit up straight but Jinbe makes no movement to remove you from his lap.

“You are not. I was- forgive me I’m rather out of practice with this sort of thing.” He shifts slightly under you and you look up to see his face almost a whole shade darker.

Everything clicks and heat races through your body. Suddenly all of the contact you have with him feels electric and you fight not to shrink away.

“There is- I mean-“ You fumble over your words but quickly pull yourself together. “It would be nice to completely forget about earlier.”

“Would you like my help with that?” He asks as the hand playing with your hair sneaks around to your collarbone

“Please, Jinbe.” Your words come out nearly breathless and Jinbe does not waste a second.

His hand tilts your jaw up to give him just the right angle to capture your mouth in a kiss. The kiss is gentle but firm and you find yourself melting into his strong arms. His large tusks pressed into your cheeks but you didn’t mind their presence at all. When he pulls away you’re left breathless and before you can go in for another kiss he’s placed a quick one to your forehead before pulling away further.

Before you know it you’re sitting on the bench and Jinbe is knelt on the ground before you, surprisingly dexterous fingers unfastening your pants. He looks up at you as his hands hesitate, checking one last time. When you nod your pants and underwear are slipped off of you in one fell swoop. Before you can hide yourself Jinbe pushes your thighs open, guiding them to rest over his broad shoulders.

“Forgive me for moving fast but-“ He places kisses up you inner thigh between his words. “I need to taste you.”

Before you can say anything his tongue is at your folds, wet muscle pushing through them and playing at your entrance. You whine as you feel his tongue press into you, slowly working its way inside you. You don’t stop yourself from threading your fingers in his hair and pushing your hips further into his face, grinding your clit against his nose. This only seems to encourage him, his large tongue filling you more than your fingers ever had.

“Jinbe- Please-“ You’re not sure what you’re crying out for exactly but Jinbe is ready to give you what you need.

Sharp fingernails dig into the plush of your thighs just short of pain as his tongue slides out of you to dance along your clit. You have to bite back a shout when he presses and sucks against your bud, sensations suddenly overwhelming you as you see white.

Jinbe gently licks at your folds as you come back from your orgasm, eagerly taking as you run your fingers along his scalp. Once he’s throughly cleaned you up he presses kisses up your hip until he’s standing over you.

“Better?” He asks, face shiny with your slick.

“So, so much better.” You respond with a dazed smile, hand cupping his face.

“Good, we can get you back to bed now.”

His response confuses you, and you sit up a bit straighter. “But what about you?”

“This isn’t about me love, this was about making you feel better.” He turns his head slightly to press a kiss to your palm. “I’m sure I can manage.”

“But what if-“ You shift in your seat, embarrassed despite everything. “What if I want you. More of you.”

There’s a moment of hesitation before Jinbe speaks again. “Trust me there is nothing more I want right now but I don’t want to… overwhelm you.”

It takes a second for your pleasure riddled brain to fully comprehend what his words are implying but oh yeah- he’s a good few feet taller than you which would mean…

The idea only filled your head with more lust.

“Can I see?” You ask, hands already playing with the tie on his kimono.

He nods and you feel his gaze lock onto your face as you undo the knot holding his clothing together. Whatever you thought you were prepared for was quickly blown out of the water. Not one but two cocks stood flushed and erect under the drapes of his kimono. Different from the human anatomy you knew his started off thinner but tapered to incredibly thick at the base. Both looked like two halves of a whole almost, but you knew just one would be an impossible fit. The challenge sent a new wave of heat through your body.

“Like I said, I don’t want to-“

“I need you inside me.” You cut him off, looking up to lock eyes with him.

He looks at you, stunned for a second before a large toothy grin takes over his face. He surges down to meet you in a kiss, more heated and charged than the one you shared before. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue and you don’t pull away until you’re dizzy from lack of air.

“Stay here for just a moment.” He says before pulling away.

You watch as her gathers up some of the pillows and a blanket, setting them up on one of the nearby tables. You nearly giggle at how carefully he places every pillow and how he takes his time to make sure you’ll be comfortable. Obviously you’d both prefer a bed but there’s no crossover of beds and private space aboard the ship.

At least Franky always reenforces all furniture and bolts every table to the ground. You’ll have to thank him for that later.

When Jinbe is done with his makeshift bed he rushes back over to you and easily scoops you up into his arms. You yelp and wrap your arms around his neck and Jinbe laughs at your reaction. It’s only a few seconds before you’re sat on the table, the blanket and pillows softening the hard wood under you. You keep your arms around Jinbe’s shoulders and while he has to lean down a bit to keep his face close to yours it doesn’t seem to bother him. You try to wiggle your hips closer to grind against him but a firm hand holds you in place.

“I’m going to have to open you up a bit first.” He says as a hand creeps between your legs and his breath ghosts over your neck.

“But you just-“

His teeth scrape gently against your neck and you whine. “Patience. I’ll make it worth your while.”

One of his thick fingers presses into you easily and your head falls back. With more of your neck available to him Jinbe lightly bites and sucks your neck, never breaking the skin or causing you pain but using just enough pressure to make you feel him. There’s something about knowing he could very easily rip your throat out that made your brain fog with lust almost just as much as the finger slowly working in and out of you.

He slowly adds a second finger, whispering praises in your ear as he works you open. “Just like that. You’re taking my fingers so well, letting me stretch you out…”

“I can-“ You moan as his fingers curl inside you and one of your hands flies up to grip onto his shoulder. “I can take more.”

“I know you can love.” He places a gentle kiss to your jaw as a third finger begins to join the first two and your body is finally showing some resistance.

It was a stretch before, certainly, but there’s the sting of being forced open as Jinbe presses that third thick finger into you. He feels your body’s resistance and his thumb quickly finds your clit, rubbing slow soothing circles into it.

“Just relax for me, I know you can do that.” You nod as you take a deep breath, trying to release the tension in your body.

“‘s a lot.” You breathe out, almost jokingly.

“I know baby.” The three fingers are fully inside you by now but they aren’t sliding in and out easily. “How about you tell me how you feel.”

“Full.” You respond automatically, earning a huff of laughter from Jinbe.

“You’re going to get much more full than this.”

“That’s- fuck I need that-“ Remembering what you’re working towards and the deliberate movements of Jinbe finally have him moving without any resistance.

“You’re just about ready, do you feel okay?” Jinbe locks eyes with you, concern and care still prominent on his face despite the clear lust.

“I- um-“ You weren’t hesitating because you didn’t want him inside you- quite the opposite really.

Eyes glancing down for a second at his cocks, flushed and leaking, you can’t help the perverted places your mind goes. Of course you would take whatever he would give you however he would give it to you but…

“Use you words love.” He’s hesitant but firm as his movements still.

“Is there- and if you don’t want this please don’t feel bad but- do you think it’s possible that you could be in there-“ You roll your hips to push his fingers just a little bit further inside you. “And my other hole?”

There’s a painfully long pause after you ask that question- so much that you’re about to backpedal and call off the whole night but the Jinbe drops his head into your shoulder and lets out a loud moan. To your side where Jinbe’s hand helped him lean against the table you hear the sound of wood cracking and you look over to see the table has given in slightly under his grip.

“Fuck you’re so-“ He moves up again so his forehead is pressing against yours. “You’re so perfect. Wanting me to fill you up all the way? Just one of your holes wasn’t going to be enough?”

“No- need all of you.” You move your hips to grind into his hand, the idea that a fantasy you didn’t even know you had was about to come true sending you close to the edge.

“Are you going to cum just thinking about it? Need that from you- give me all that slick so I can get your ass ready for me. You want that don’t you? Want these fingers stretching you out again?” Jinbe might be just as far gone as you are, words almost slurred as he matches the rhythm you’ve set.

His encouragement is all you need, crying out as your walls clench around his fingers as you cum.

“That’s it baby just like that-“ He nuzzled against your cheek as the last of the tremors worked through your body. “Can you lay down for me now?”

You ease yourself backwards and Jinbe makes sure there’s a pillow ready for your head. With one hand he lifts your hips up and slides another pillow underneath them, giving him better access to you. He easily but gently manipulates your body, pushing your thighs up and apart.

“You can put your legs on me if you need to but I’m going to need you to help me keep you open, okay?” His hands knead your thighs, some of your juices from his hands smearing into your skin.

You shift and reach down, using your hands to pull apart your asscheeks for him. He groans as you hold yourself open, his hands digging into your thighs for a second before he remembers himself. One of his hands releases its grip so a finger can dip between your folds, gathering your slick before trailing down. His fingertip circles the right ring of muscle as he presses a kiss to the inside of your knee.

“Just relax, I’ll take care of you.” You do your best to listen as his finger presses in.

It’s a strangle feeling at first and you have to fight not to tense up as he slowly pushes his finger in further. Once your body is used to the feeling though you can feel the heat seeping into your stomach again as Jinbe works you open, whispering praises to you the whole time.

“You’re taking me so well baby. You’re going to feel so good around me, squeezing me so tight. You can take more, can’t you?” The press of another finger has you tighten up reflexively before you force yourself to relax. “That’s it-“

The stretch of two of his thick fingers stings initially but his actions as slow and careful and the stretch soon becomes almost natural. His other hand leaves your thigh and while it’s getting a bit tiring to hold your legs up and open his skilled fingers working against your clit easily make up for it. You groan as his fingers scissor you open and grow impatient.

“Jinbe please just- I’m ready I need you inside of me.” You whine, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“I don’t want to go too fast-“ He starts but you cut him off.

“You would never hurt me. Please.”

You watch his hesitance fade away as he leans over you for a surprisingly soft kiss. “Alright love.”

He straightens back out and slides his fingers out of you. You whine at the loss but are easily distracted watching him take his cocks in his hands, fingers covered in your slick pumping each of them a few times to get them coated. He carefully lines them both up, dragging the tip of one over your clit before pressing it slightly into your entrance. Once his tip is seated in you then he pushes his other one in and you are already overwhelmed.

He slowly pushes into you and only gets a few inches before you’re tapping his shoulder, needing him to pause. The stretch in both of your holes at once overloads you and you know you need a bit more time to adjust. He understands you immediately, stopping and running his hands over your skin.

“Take your time, you’re alright, I’m right here with you.” He praises, words and hands soothing you as you take deep breaths.

You’re not sure how long it takes before you’re ready again, but the strange feeling of being stretched out bleeds into something far more pleasurable quickly enough. All it takes is for you to nod before he starts slowly pushing in again.

There’s a few more times you have to stop him but he’s just as patient with you every time, non stop praises flowing from him. Soon enough you feel one of his heads press into your cervix and he stops, holding himself in you. When you look down you see that his whole length isn’t in you- that just wasn’t possible- but you had taken most of him. His hand runs over your stomach and you can see and feel his cocks bulging through your midsection. There’s something so maddening to see your body contort in such an unnatural way to accommodate him that makes your head fuzzy with desire.

“Look at that- fuck- you take me so well-“ One of his hands lightly pushes down and you both moan at the feeling. “You feel that?”

You don’t have any words left anymore, so you just nod and whine as his hips lightly grind into you. One of his hands drifts slightly to hold onto your hip while his other finds one of your hands, interlacing your fingers together. He gives you a reassuring squeeze as he slowly starts to move, dragging his cocks out of you.

“You’re so tight and- fuck- warm- baby I’m sorry I’m not going to last long you just- you feel so good.” The hand on your hip holds you still as he pushes back into you, pace slow but deliberate as both of you fight to hold on for just a bit longer.

Your brain couldn’t hold any more thoughts, everything pushed out by the overwhelming sensation of being stuffed full. You’re sure you’re going to rip in half at any point in time but honestly you feel way too damn good to care. Both of his cocks drag against every spot you know and didn’t know about, pleasure in every small movement you’re given. After this you’re not sure how anything will ever compare.

“Are you- I can feel it baby- you’re close too? Getting tighter around me-“ His hips move a bit faster now, unable to stop himself from indulging just a bit more in the way you grip him. “You can let go- I want feel it come on-“

His hand leaves your hip so his fingers can press tight circles against your clit and like that you’re gone. You scream- probably, you can’t really hear yourself but something is ripped out of your throat as you cum harder than you ever have before.

“So good- I’m gonna-“

Jinbe goes to pull out of you but you manage a needy- “Inside” and he quickly shoved himself back inside you as much as he can.

You feel as he releases inside you, his cocks pulsing almost in unison as warm cum fills both your holes. You look at him as he looks down at where you are still connected, his cum spilling out around his cocks. Slowly he pulls himself out of you, mesmerized as he watches his cum slowly seep out of both of your holes. He shakes his head quickly, snapping himself out of his trance and immediately gathers you up in his arms. One arm is behind your back and the other is underneath your knees as he holds you to his chest. He kisses your forehead gently, nuzzling into you slightly.

“Do you feel better now?” He asks, a dazed grin on his face.

“Much better.” You respond, knowing confidently any bad thoughts had been shoved far away.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up and to bed.”

You think you could get used to being taken care of like this.

[deluweil]

Oh God yes, I am so for Tommy being gone just to have people stop being stupid about Eddie. Which is a pitty because at first I was intrigued by Tommy. Now i just want it to end.

And lol at your tags. I have blocked so many people lately, too. Not even stupid takes during TK era made me block so much. Some of them really take the cake now. All this hate towards Eddie is staggering. And to have the audacity to call eddieblr toxic (and yes, I have seen that and not only buddies are being called toxic these days).

HI there,

I have to say that I was intrigued and even excited for Tommy at first too, but there were a lot of things that just ruined it along the way, amongst them the last minute joiners and Eddie haters fans who just set out to make this place unbearable.

I wouldn't have minded Tommy so much if not for all the toxicity that brought with it and the poor writing and the money for specs from Lou.

Like wth dude, didn't anyone teach you to be correct, you can't justify Tommy's behavior in S2 and pass it as teasing. It's like punching someone in the face in rage or nearly break someone's ankle for attention and call it roughhousing. (not joking, I literally had an ask with someone justifying the white man railroading the POC for attention as roughhousing. - When Buck himself said he wasn't sure it wasn't done on purpose. like wtf?)

lol I live for those tags, everyone say their real thoughts and be funny in tags, it's so much fun.

I literally bonded with that block button, I haven't blocked so many ppl since early S4 and the porn bots attack lol

Ppl need to chill, everyone is entitled to their opinions but are not entitled to force it upon others.

Ship who you want but tag properly and don't be toxic about.

A lot of ppl read X's posts and come to rant about it here, Tumblr is not X, most of the ppl here are ppl who hate X's toxicity. I have deleted my account so many years ago.

We are here to have fun, so I say ship who you want, TAG PROPERLY, and leave us the hell alone.

Eddie/Ryan haters are all blocked so thankfully I don't see those, but if after everything they still hate on Eddie for something Ryan apologized several times for, learned from it and has bettered himself to the point that Aisha posted a thankful for Ryan story once and they have so many pictures together where she hugs him like he's one of the most precious ppl to ever live, than I have to call pure racism.

And that would explain the sudden admiration to the new white man on screen to be paired with the other white man who is by chance also the fan favorite.

Don't get it twisted, I love Oliver and Oliver loves Ryan and Eddie, but one has to wonder about the audience's choice of favorite even as they call against racism and for equality and with the same breath hate on a regular poc character.

I'm hoping this bizarre season ends on a good note, because otherwise S8 may be the last season.

Keeping my fingers crossed.

[sarcastictissy]

I have a lot of lovely asks and messages from people that I'm not able to respond to yet, but I just want to genuinely thank all of you for it ❤️ I was worried I was letting people down, but I'm so very thankful for everyone that reassured me otherwise. I will respond to you all. I'm not ignoring any of you, I promise.

Now onto something more serious. This is tagged as qsmp neg because I'm about to get really really angry with a certain part of this fandom.

Since Maxo unofficially confirmed qsmp is ending after the event, I've seen so many posts and reblogs along the lines of "the people upset because they had hope are in denial/ delusional/ crazy" or "the people thinking qsmp wasnt dead brought this upon themselves" which, basically, people are making fun of those who've had hope that the server will server. Now, don't get me wrong, we aren't exactly logical by having hope, and you're nit in the wrong for having a joke about people being "in denial" about the server closing.

That being said, the people blogging this only started doing it when Maxo unofficially confirmed its closure. So, technically there was still a small part of you that had hope, too, huh?

Not to mention, we are not in thr wrong for having hope or wanting to hold onto something that brought us so much joy, love, passion and creativity this past year. Leave us be. Let us be "in denial" or "delusional" or whatever you want to call us. It's fun over here. It's bright and positive and we all share the best memories of the past year. We don't WANT to look on the downside because it doesn't help us. It doesn't make sense to be consumed by all this negativity. It's very damaging to people's mental health if all they're seeing is "qsmp is dead" "quackity is cancelled" "all CCs hate qsmp" and other untrue statements.

As long as the fandom lives, qsmp lives. So why are you mocking us for seeing the qsmp in a positive and fun way? We're celebrating its life, not its death. This is a celebration, not a funeral.

I have had so many people message me, send asks, and tag me in posts to thank me for being positive about this situation even in the worst of times. And it's not that I'm saying "the admins are being mistreated? Oh well!" Because I'm not. What I'm doing and what I've done the past 3 or so months is remind people to take a breather, remind people to care for themselves and offer a place for them to vent to. I've shared my favourite moments of qsmp as a way to relive the best times whilst we go through the worst.

Can you not see that? Do you really think it's worth mocking me and others for?

If you genuinely believe I'm crazy or other insults because I see qsmp as a good thing, despite its faults, then please, unfollow me. Block me. Block the 'qsmp positivity' tag.

I will continue to spread hope about qsmp because I need it as much as others do. I owe myself to stay level headed and clear on qsmp because its done so much for me this past year. And so so many others see it the same way. I'm very grateful to be a place of positivity and safety during these trying times. I'm so thankful to everyone who has messaged me, sent me asks, followed me or even became my mutual because of this server.

I am so sorry for anyone that has been incredibly negative and doomposting excessively these past few months. It's very sad you felt the need to bring others down because you were sad too. But the there's a difference between being negative and actively ridiculing others for not being negative. And for those that have been doing the latter, stop. Stop trying to make us feel small for having hope for a server that has been our home for over a year.

If anyone feels like I'm being harsh, it's because I am.

[adenobabe]

Your pleasure is my pleasure

Vessel x F!reader

This is my first fic pls don’t hate on me tysm 🥺

Look I’m a iii girlie but I love Vessel sm I just couldn’t get this out of my head so here it is let me know what you think 💗

Tags: explicit content, edging, overstimulation, vessel x reader, praise kink, vessels a sweetheart, intercourse (p in v), no mention of y/n, pet names (bunny, darling, baby etc)

I was listening to Jaws on repeat while writing this so play that for the vibes if ya like lol xx

********************** MDNI 18+ ************************

“Please baby just one more for me?” Vessel pleads in your ear, delicately moving the hair out of your face. You lay there whimpering, shaking from pleasure your third orgasm only just finishing washing over you. For the love of Gods you have never in your life experienced such immense pleasure. You close your eyes to steady your breath running your hand up his bare torso resting your hand behind his neck. Vessel hovers over you his slender long fingers still inside your dripping hole you clench around them still throbbing from your orgasm his fingers achingly slowly pumping in and out of you. You meet each others gaze your hand going to the side of his cheek. He lightly grazes over your clit with his thumb. Your body jolts at the overstimulation and you whimper “Vess please.” “Yes darling? Tell me bunny anything you want I’m all yours.” Vessel hums against your lips.

He moves his lips down onto yours gently kissing your lips groaning. He pulls his fingers out of you and brings them up to play with your nipple your slickness adding to the pleasure. Moaning into the kiss you ache for fullness between your legs again, desperate for some kind of friction you push your hips up to him feeling how hard he is. Vessel groans as he meets his hips with yours “you have no idea how much I crave you my love how much I love worshiping your body I could do this all day and night.” He moves his hand to your cheek running his thumb over your lips “I love your beautiful lips…the noises that come out of this pretty mouth is music to my ears.” You look down between each other noticing the wet patch growing on Vessels boxers from his leaking cock he’s rock hard his size always surprising you. You moan in anticipation just at the sight of him. “Vessel please I just need you inside of me.” You plead. Vessels eyes grow darker “in time my love we have all night. You’re doing so good for me my sweet bunny.” He kisses your lips and moves down your chest running his hands down your sides leaving wet kisses on his way down.

Your breath hitches as he kisses the inside of your thigh his arms sliding underneath your thighs hitching your legs over his shoulders. He looks up at you inches away from your aching desire “Tell me when you’re close my love. I’ll take this slowly.” You look down at Vessel the mere sight of him between your thighs the feeling of his big hands on your lower stomach holding you in place your legs wrapped around his neck lighting a flame back inside you again. You clench around nothing as Vessel brings his thumb up to your clit circling with light pressure his eyes fixed on you groaning at the feel and sight of you. You can see how much enjoyment he gets out of teasing you his delicate long fingers edging you closer and closer wetness dripping down between you both. You moan throwing your head back and move against his finger desperate for a faster pace or more pressure. “That’s it baby. Fuck my fingers. Use me. Let go for me.” Vessel grinds himself down into the mattress as his tongue replaces his thumb licking soft circles around and around. Noticing your frustration growing he increases pressure and buries himself into your pussy groaning against you sending shockwaves and vibrations through your body. That familiar feeling starting to quickly grow again in the pit of your stomach for the fourth time this evening. “Vess ugh- p-please baby I’m close again” you whimper.

He slips out from beneath you his hands move from your stomach to either side of your head towering over you. You whimper at the loss of contact desperate for your release. “Need to fill you now can’t take it anymore darling just need to feel you wrapped around me. Need you to come all over my cock.” He moves one hand down between you lining his length up with you and achingly slowly inch by inch pushes into you stretching you with this thick long cock. A guttural groan leaves his lips his head hanging forward over you. “Fuck. You’re so perfect.” The feeling of him stretching you and filling you to the brim causing you to whimper and moan in pure ecstasy. His lips are back on yours breathy moans are shared between you as he steadies himself in you his hips flush with yours, your clit pressing against him. The pressure and fullness nearly enough to send you over the edge. He holds himself fully bottomed out in you gathering himself to allow you to adjust to his size before sliding all the way out and achingly slowly back in. “That’s it sweetheart you’re doing so good taking me so well.” His cock strocking that part inside you that has you seeing stars. His hands hold onto your hips as he lifts you up to meet him as he drags himself in and out of you. Your eyes close getting lost in ecstasy. “I could do this forever. Ugh honey… bunny….baby look at me while I fuck your pretty pussy please.” Vessel moans in between thrust his hand coming to grab your face to look at him. Your eyes meet and he leans forward pushing your legs apart and down to meet the mattress holding your legs either side of you. Vessel thrusts into you quicker his primal desire taking over him. “Making you feel good is my purpose on this earth.” His voice shudders between thrusts pressing your thighs further into the mattress his forehead pressed against yours. His breath quickening he moans into your mouth passionately kissing you. Vessel reaches between you both to rub circles on your clit. Your legs start to shake “Vess-oh god baby I’m so close.” You whine out in pleasure. “That’s it bunny cum all over my cock. God you’re so beautiful you feel so good.” Vessel picks up the pace circling your clit sending you over the edge. He holds your thighs down as you whimper, moan and shake under him your orgasm ripping through you as he continues to pump into you. The feeling of you tightly clenching around him sending him over the edge hot ropes of cum painting your walls his cock twitching inside of you. You hold him close as he rides out his high his body pressed against yours moaning and whimpering against your lips his hands tangled in your hair. Vessel comes down from his high meeting your gaze. Still inside you he bucks his hips into you groaning against your neck enjoying the overstimulation wanting it to last as long as possible. You run your hand through his hair your legs still wrapped around him. “I love being inside you I love you so much my love.” You kiss him back in response and whisper against his lips “I love you more baby.”

Vessel slowly pulls out of you. “Stay there my sweet I’ll be right back.” You pout at him and reach for him not wanting to go a second without him. Vessel comes back with a warm washcloth and some water. “Let me clean you my love I’ll be gentle.” Vessel cleans your intimate areas gently leaving soft warm kisses on your forehead handing you some water. “Drink my love.” After you’re both cleaned up, Vessel puts some new sheets on the bed making it cosy for you. “Come here my sweet.” Vessel picks you up and tucks you both under the covers. Your legs and arms wrap around his as he brings you close to his chest leaving a soft kiss on your lips. “You did amazing my love.” You lay there wrapped up with Vessel snuggled close to his chest, the place you love to be the most in this world. You hum against his chest the exhaustion now hitting you both as you drift off to sleep.

[trans-androgyne]

ty so so much for speaking about transandrophobia as much as you do. i never thought it was this bad. i just saw the poll asking whether it existed or not and other disgusting garbage. spent the day rummaging in the tag to learn and do research. (istg if i see the words "transandrophobia truther" one more time.).

i genuinely do not know how it came to be this bad nor will i never understand fellow trans people, in this case some (please note SOME. not all. i shouldn't have to say this but ik someones going to interpret this as me hating transfems when i do not. nor do i want to paint them in a bad light. all i am is deeply disappointed.) trans fems shitting on their siblings and brothers. hell, even me noticing that i have seen a lot of trans fems taking a part in this makes me feel like i'm transmysoginistic or trying to "divide" the community. so idk anymore.

i just personally think terfs have genuinely poisoned this community and people have been gobbling it up without issue and continue to do so. its sad.

we should be fighting for each other, not against. we shouldn't be divided by braindead terf ideology and values. please? i do not understand this hatred. at all. do you maybe have any idea how this all started or what caused it? because i literally cannot wrap my head around all this. and sorry for the rant.

I’ve been trying to find a tidy way to answer this and there just isn’t one. There are so many factors feeding into it. An extremely big one is the queer community’s fear and suspicion and disgust towards masculinity. Transmasculinity is no exception. Transmascs have always been treated poorly in different ways, but we were quiet about it. We were told we aren’t as oppressed as trans women and we just experience normal plain transphobia, so we shouldn’t feel like an authority on trans experiences. Even our own.

Transmascs have historically felt isolated from one another and the community. Now people have found community amongst themselves, talking about their issues, and finally speaking up. And it’s a threat to the status quo. It challenges deeply held beliefs about gendered oppression and makes feminism more complicated. And honestly, transandrophobic, bigoted people have a very strong motive to not acknowledge bigotry, it would cause great cognitive dissonance.

You’re right that the community and honestly popular feminism as a whole has been tainted by radfem ideas. I remember when I was younger, feminism was for everyone. Men were encouraged to get involved. Now people don’t even recognize that sexism negatively affects men or understand that gender isn’t only an intersection for everyone but men, even trans men. So many people don’t even know how to recognize TERF rhetoric so long as they don’t say they hate trans women. It makes it really difficult to have conversations about the patriarchy, and transmasculine people are suffering from it.

I encourage you to look into the concept of “power-jacketing” to understand how this hatred is maintained and functions. Sorry this got too long, I hope it was able to be helpful.

[telomeke]

I was tagged by @colourme-feral at this post here, @he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle at this post here, and @wen-kexing-apologist at this post here. Thanks for tagging me, guys! 🥰

My schedule is usually too packed with work these days for me to spend much time on Tumblr, but I have a window of time right now and I'm definitely doing this one, especially because it was so much fun reading yours. 😍

So–

coffee or tea – COFFEE. I am an absolute addict; two or three cups at breakfast, one at lunch, a couple more in the afternoon. But will have a cup of tea every morning as well because I heard it's good for you? | early bird or night owl – BOTH. Love starting my day when there's no one about, but my natural body clock keeps me up later and later. So some days I'm up at six, others I'm off to bed at 3AM. Is it any wonder I look tired all the time? 😂 | chocolate or vanilla – BOTH. Vanilla as a flavoring for most things (LOVE vanilla ice-cream and vanilla cake) but I'm also a chocolate FIEND and can chow down pounds of it at a time. So if I'm having chocolate I want a full-on, unadulterated, deep, dark, decadent chocolate experience. Not dulled and diluted in cake or cream form. I will make an exception for the fudgiest of brownies though. | spring or fall – FALL. Love the colors, the whiff of smoke in the air sometimes, the chance of some late sunshine that missed the boat for summer, and the chill ever-deepening in the air. It's rarely sodden the way spring can sometimes be, and I hate a wet spring with a late-winter thaw.

silver or gold – BOTH. Silver to wear, gold to buy. | pop or alternative – POP. I love a catchy hook, and some indie music can be too tuneless for me. | freckles or dimples – BOTH. Freckles (especially on red-heads) are cute, but then when I saw Fluke Jeeratch (formerly Pongsakorn) smile… well! 👀😍 | snakes or sharks – SNAKES. They're beautiful, but there's also danger humming below the surface and that just adds to the allure. As for sharks, well, I liked eating them – and not just the fins in soup – but it's not politically or environmentally correct (I've been told) so I don't anymore.

mountains or fields – MOUNTAINS. I've had a few wonderful mountain holidays. Love the cool, crisp air. | thunder or lightning – THUNDER. There's something sexy about that crack and rumble. Lightning is just scary. | egyptian mythology or greek mythology – GREEK. Greek gods and goddesses, so beautiful and always nude. LOL | ivory or scarlet – SCARLET. Some days my favorite color is a bold, bright red (not every day, though).

flute or lyre – FLUTE. Something about the brightness of the notes makes me synaesthetically see the sunlight dancing on a clear stream as it runs over polished stones. Love it whenever I get cross-sensory experiences. | opal or diamond – DIAMOND. They're this boy's best friend, LOL, because I love a bit of sparkle (though I don't dress with bling, except for my cufflinks). | butterflies or honeybees – BUTTERFLIES. They're just so pretty. | macarons or éclairs – MACARONS. Pierre Hermé my beloved! (I have a sweet tooth, can you tell? 🤣) Plus macarons are one of the traditional pastries that are naturally gluten-free. I'm partial to lychee rose ones, and rich chocolate ones (if they get the fudginess right). But vanilla is too mild for this. Another one for the vanilla v. chocolate duel!

typewritten or handwritten – HANDWRITTEN. I think handwriting does reveal personality and how your mind works, to an extent. So I love not just reading it, but also reading into it. Then again, I do love the clack-clack of a manual typewriter though. | secret garden or secret library – LIBRARY. A secret garden would be cool to discover and experience, but beyond that – the bugs would bother me too much to want to spend much time in there. Whereas I could disappear for days in a library. | rooftop or balcony – BALCONY. But not for the reasons you might think. Balconies are rarely comfortable unless the weather's good and you have a nice view. But they help shade your interior space and keep it cool when the weather's too hot. Most rooftops are service spaces so they don't actually look very good, with a fair bit of grime. (Have you SEEN the real rooftop of Tinidee? No wonder BBS filmed at Chana City Residence instead.) Plus flat roofs will eventually leak, which is a huge hassle to repair. | spicy or mild – SPICY. Prik kee noo my beloved! Also cili padi/cili api/siling labuyo. It's my way of remembering my late mom, who loved her chillis packing the most searing heat.

opera or ballet – um, BALLET? I've been moved to tears by dance before. But opera just sounds like loud wailing to me, so I've never been for a performance. I suspect I may have a Pretty Woman moment of my own when I do though, since there are some arias I like. | london or paris – PARIS! J'ai deux amours – mon pays et Paris… (Joséphine Baker is a legend for a reason.) London is a cool city though, but for sheer range of experience (from the gutter to the stars) it's still Paris by a whisker. | vincent van gogh or claude monet – MONET. I love the Impressionists, and a visit to Monet's house and garden was the highlight of my trip to Normandy. That and the cider. 🤣 | denim or leather – DENIM. Leather's uncomfortable to wear, unless it's for shoes.

potions or spells – SPELLS. I think I prefer my magic more action-packed, in the moment and with immediate results. | ocean or desert – OCEAN. I'm a Waterboyy at heart, and have many joyful memories of holidays by the sea as a kid. | mermaids or sirens – MERMAIDS, for the same reason as previous. Plus sirens are half-bird, and I am slightly ornithophobic when I get up close to any avian. | masquerade ball or cocktail party – MASQUERADE. I love fancy dress and costume parties. And I find the small talk at cocktail parties both daunting and boring.

Onward tagging:

@visualtaehyun @ruthsic @delesaria-blog @solitaryandwandering @twig-tea

@suni-sun @nihilisticcondensedmilk @neuroticbookworm @lovelyghostv @grapejuicegay

@airenyah @pandasmagorica @waitmyturtles @belladonna-and-the-sweetpeas @hyp-no-tic

@writerwithoutsound @hughungrybear @dreamenormous @sparklyeyedhimbo @callipigio

@pickletrip @kinyeee @breezy-bird @dribs-and-drabbles @dimplesandfierceeyes

@recentadultburnout @bengiyo @zimmbzon

No pressure if you don't want to play. And if I didn't tag you but you do want to play, please do so! Please tag me so I can read your responses as well!

Here's a clean version if you're going to play: 😍

coffee or tea | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees | macarons or éclairs | typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens | masquerade ball or cocktail party

‌

[brotpqueen]

Okay listen I’m working on the next chapter but Gabriel is a bitch to write for. I am neither a man nor an overconfident little bastard (though that last one is debatable) so I don’t relate to him as much as the others which makes writing more complicated. This bitch is tiring. Also as y’all know I have no idea how to write romantic tension, especially not of the enemies-to-lovers variety. Here’s some incorrect quotes while you guys wait (with some lore drops about the AU if you look hard enough). Thanks for being so patient, gang.

Hairdresser: How would you like your hair cut? Beelzebub: Preferably with scissors, but a sword could be badass.

(if you read chapter one you already know my Beez makes terrible decisions about their hair.)

Anathema: I'm at a loss for words! Newt: Despite being ‘at a loss for words’, Anathema yelled at me for the next 45 minutes.

(Newt is the incompetent one in the group but he’s so sweet they keep him around anyway)

Gabriel: There. How do I look? Shax: Like a cheap French harlot. Gabriel: French?!

(Former Cyberbully VS Also Former Cyberbully. At least Shax is creative with it.)

Aziraphale: Crowley, can you help me? All of my clothes keep disappearing for some reason. Crowley, wearing a hoodie that's 5 times bigger than their size: Spooky.

(…Obviously.)

Aziraphale: What the fuck is wrong with you?? Beelzebub: What? No good morning? Aziraphale: Good morning, what the fuck is wrong with you??

(This is literally all of their conversations up until they were like fourteen and Aziraphale gave up on being a good influence and joined in the batshit)

Shax: You're smiling. What happened? Crowley: What? Can't I smile just because I feel like it? Aziraphale: Gabriel tripped and fell down the stairs today.

(They’re the worst brothers ever <3)

Beelzebub: When I was your age- Aziraphale, mocking Beelzebub: When I was your height. Beelzebub: Beelzebub: Listen here you little shit-

(Beez is completely ignoring that Aziraphale is literally like a month older than them)

Hastur: I wouldn’t put it in those words exactly. Newt: Why not? Hastur: Because I don't know what they mean.

(Hastur is a himbo. In this context both affectionate and derogatory. Love ya, ya dumbass.)

The Squad is gathered in the living room for a meeting Maggie: walks in and sits on Nina’s lap The Squad: … Newt: Why are you sitting there? Maggie: There’s no free seats! Newt: But we made sure there was enough room for- Nina: hugs Maggie tightly There are no free seats.

(Nina and Maggie are just here to cuddle and see shit go down tbh.)

Aziraphale: I honestly feel like some of our conversations here are almost word-for-word accurate to the generator. Anathema: Yup. Beelzebub: Maybe the generator is watching us. Aziraphale: Wouldn't that imply this conversation will be added? Aziraphale: … Aziraphale: Wait—

(Never let the smart ones™️ near alcohol they’re existential little fucks already we don’t need a philosophical debate at the campfire)

Shax: Some of us are still ‘it’ from a childhood game of tag. Uriel: Way to just fuck me up on a Tuesday.

(Shax is studying psychology at college/uni SOLELY so she can use it to fuck with people.)

Crowley: We need a plan to beat them. Aziraphale: Okay, listen up. First, we fill their shoes with wet cat food. Crowley: Aziraphale: Judge me all you want, I get results.

(And people say Bee is a bad influence. Really! He’s much better at being a devious little shit now, so I’d call that a good influence!)

One of the campers: running towards Beelzebub with open arms Beelzebub: moves out of the way One of the campers: Hey, why'd you move?! Beelzebub: I thought you were going to attack me. One of the campers: I was going to hug you! Beelzebub: Why would you hug me? One of the campers: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

(They have issues okay. Stay tuned for that shit show!)

Shax: I am free of all prejudice. I hate everyone equally.

(She’s the worst I love her.)

Beelzebub: It’s too early in the morning for this. sent at 11:57 AM

(Aziraphale at many points throughout the years since they chose their name: your name is Beelzebub not Belphegor. Get up and go eat.)

Crowley: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor and it isn't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities. Crowley, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win you should have tried not being poor.

(He looses all morals when it comes to board games. Also shut up Crowley your mother is like as rich as God…almost literally.)

Hastur: Hey, Aziraphale you're smart, tell me what would happen if I chugged 3 gallons of chloroform. Aziraphale: Have you ever been to a mortuary? Hastur: Yea, my grandma lives there. Uriel: That is the worst response to that question.

Aziraphale: I literally cannot believe I let you talk me into this. Beelzebub: I literally said “I have an idea,” and you just went along with it without question.

(This is just their entire dynamic in this fic. Literally. This is how they end up in so many situations™️)

Beelzebub, to Nina: You know, Gabriel can be really aggressive, so it's important to take all the necessary precautions when approaching. Beelzebub: blows airhorn at Gabriel GET FUCKED!

(They’re still in the enemies stage of enemies-to-lovers…Also Crowley approves this method.)

Beelzebub: I've met a lot of pricks in my time, but you, Gabriel, are a fucking cactus.

(Wait why is that just something I would have them say.)

Uriel: We need to distract these guys. Shax: Leave it to me. Shax: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. The smart ones™️: immediately begin arguing

(More psych student Shax knowing her friends eerily well! She’s a nightmare!)

Gabriel: What have I done wrong?! Crowley: Everything. For your entire life.

(They are in SEVERE need of character development…shame no one around here is doing that. *whistles totally inconspicuously, definitely not ignoring the WIP that’s open in my notes right now*)

Maggie: Which country has the most birds? Maggie: Portu-geese! Uriel: That's a language. Maggie: Portu-gull? Uriel: Good recovery. Newt: I think you mean good re-dovery. Anathema: TURKEY. HOW DID WE MISS TURKEY?

(This is what’s happening while the MCs are off doing MC shit)

Crowley: We’re going to have to split up, like in Scooby Doo. Crowley, to Newt and Hastur: You guys are Scooby and Shaggy. You can search the bathrooms. Crowley, to Aziraphale: Velma, you get the spooky looking fridge in the basement. Aziraphale: What? Why am I Velma? And why do I get the… dubious looking device? Crowley: Because only Velma would say “dubious device”. Aziraphale gets the spooky fridge in the basement. Gabriel: And what does that make you, Fred? Crowley: Bitch, I’m Daphne.

(The real reason Crowley and Gabriel hate eachother so much is that there’s only room for one dramatic little bitch in their family and they both think it should be them.)

Maggie: I'm not superstitious… But I am a little stitious.

(My underrated queen!)

Hastur: I know where you live. Uriel: Where? Hastur: In a house.

(Uriel spends half of their time at camp facepalming. This is what they get for being normal in a sea of weirdos.)

Okay that’s it for now see y’all soon hopefully with the next chapter!

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[the-casbah-way]

forgive the brief jesus chris superstar rant but. there is a very important difference between the pharisees being villains and the pharisees being antagonists. they're technically antagonists because they're actively working against the interests of our protagonist, but i don't believe they should ever be played as villains. they're not evil or bad or wrong. they're terrified just like literally everyone else in the show is, and their actions are completely justified. to me that's the entire point of the musical. it's not about christianity; it's about the impact the roman empire's brutal and violent imperialism had on everyone on all levels. including jesus and judas, but also including the pharisees, and even herod and pilate. when a powerful coloniser forces their presence on innocent people they are the only winners. everyone else suffers, even the puppet kings and high priests who look like they're reaping some sort of benefit from it all. that's roman propaganda. the romans kept native rulers like herod and caiaphas in power to maintain the illusion of provincial autonomy, and keep populations appeased and therefore under control. everyone in the show is acting out of fear of the romans. the one roman character we do see (pilate) is acting out of fear of his own emperor. it makes no sense to cast the pharisees as two dimensional Bad Guys, especially when the same productions that do that usually offer a sympathetic portrayal of pilate. it would be so easy to stage and direct a production in a way that makes it obvious that the pharisees are doing what they're doing because they truly have no choice, and not because they're pure evil and want to kill jesus for the sake of it. it's not only an antisemitic trope but also undermines a really important theme of the musical. if you can see the humanity in the violent roman governor installed forcefully on conquered land then you can afford some humanity for the pharisees too. they are victims of pilate and victims of rome just like everyone else

[fujii-draws]

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

[americankimchi]

wish i knew what to do with this helpless frustration i feel every time i see people vilify the jedi for their way of life when the person doing the vilification doesn't even understand them properly. it's one thing to criticize and dislike them if you have an accurate picture of who they were and what they're trying to do vs. hating them because you straight up don't understand them at all 😭

[raccoonnutella13]

why are ppl always so mean about taz :(