#I COULD RAMBLE ABOUT THIS SCENE ALONE FOR HOURS

[treasureofmammon]

🍽 Petty revenge dinner 🍽

🔎Summary: The seven brothers, your roommates, were fighting for you. After hearing the reasons, it angers you. You're a person who decides for themself, so why are they arguing about you as if you were a mere object?

👥️Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, MC. (Solomon, Simeon, Luke, Raphael, and Thirteen mentioned).

⚠️Warnings: Objectification (is that the word in English?), yelling and anger. Petty revenge revolving around food, (but not related to food poisoning or something f*cked up, just bad taste). This is supposed to be kind of funny and light-hearted.

📝 Note: No favorites on this one, the seven brothers are treated equally. I guess, it's implied this MC is in love with the seven of them [I think I'd be similar, although Mammon is my favorite, I'd have a crush on them all. But if Mammon asked me for exclusivity (monogamous relationship), I'd drop EVERYTHING for that man!!]. I also did some small research on the brothers likes and dislikes on food, but some are made up (you all will see why once you read the text). - For this one, I got inspired in that scene in Aladdin where he, Jasmin's father and Jafar argue about who she should marry; all of them failing to see that the most crucial thing is that she has a right to chose. In a way, that's objetification. She quickly forgives her father and Aladdin, though; as long as they understand. Hopefully that was a lesson learned for these men. So it made me think on how the Demon bros have this posesive nature towards MC sometimes, they too needed to learn a lesson.

✨️💖❤️✨️💖💚✨️💖💛✨️💖💙✨️💖🧡✨️💖💜✨️

As usual, chaos reigns the House of Lamentation. This time, it began when you said "I can't, I'm sorry".

One by one all of the brothers came to you today to ask you on a date to spend some quality time, alone. However, when you said that you can't, each of them had a similar reaction:

—H-Hey, MC? Would you... like to play videogames with me before dinner?—, Levi asked you in the morning, flustered and visibly embarrassed.

—I can't, Levi. I'm sorry—, you answered, with a sad expression on your face. You tried to explain yourself —You see, today I'm- —. But before you finished, Levi interrupted you, completely disappointed: —Oh. I guess I sort of expected this. I knew it. After all, I am just a yucky otaku who...—, babbling and whispering self-loatheling things, he left. Confused, you tried to follow him; nonetheless, as you checked the hour, you realized that it's quite late for class. You felt stressed but ended up deciding to go to class and explained him later; anyway, he would understand once dinner time arrived.

As you walked through the classroom's threshold, Beel stopped you: —Hey MC! I was wondering...—, he stuttered, —W-Would you like to go with me to Hell's kitchen before dinner? I have some good "all you can eat" coupons that Mammon gave me—.

Your facial expression turned into a sad one. Once again, you answered: —I'm sorry, Beel. I can't today. You see, I'm- —. Beel interrupted you with an audible —Aw—, dissatisfied. He continues: —I see, so it's not me—. —What do you mean?—, you asked. But before Beel could talk, the bell rang, and you had no choice but to enter the classroom. It's okay. You were sure he would understand later today, just like Levi.

As you took your seat and got your notebook and pen out of your cute bag, Asmo sat on your desk. —Hey there gorgeous— he said, —Would like to come with me to Majolish before dinner? I'll buy you whatever you want—.

—Oh, Asmo, thanks. But I can't. Today I'm-—.

Asmo didn't let you finish and took his leave inmediately —Unbelievable! It's not ME!—. He sat, rambling in whispers, visibly upset.

Satan, who usually sits behind you, tapped at your shoulder. He had a wide smile and you wondered if something good might have happened to him; whatever it is, you were glad that it did. —Hey, MC. There's a small art gallery that just opened. Would like to go there with me before dinner?—.

You sighed. —I'm sorry, Satan. I can't. Today is the day that I'm- —. Before you could continue, the teacher entered the class and greeted everyone. —I'll tell you later— you said to Satan before turning around. His smile was a frown, though.

—What in hell is wrong?—, you thought, as half of your roommates pouted, upset. You brush it off as the class finished. Nonetheless, Belphie came to you too, still drowsy after his "class nap," as he calls it.

—Hey there, MC. Do you have plans after class? There's a meteor that will cross the Devildom sky. Do you wanna see it in the house planetarium with me? It'll be before dinner, I promise—.

You sighed again, —Oh, Belphie. I can't today. I'm the one-—. You stayed silent when you noticed Belphegor's mood.

—I see— he said, —Maybe some other time— he finished, rushing out of class.

—Belphie! Wait!—, you called, as you run after him to no avail, even the Avatar of Sloth is faster than a plain simple human. You wondered if it's just your imagination that each of your beautiful demons is inviting you on dates exactly when you can't.

As you walk out of RAD, sad and disappointed, Mammon was waiting for you in the school's entry as usual. He noticed your mood and immediately asked: —Hey, what's wrong?—.

—Everyone has been inviting me to do stuff before dinner, and I had to reject them all. It makes me feel so sad—.

Mammon smiled, and you frowned to his smooth grin. —Is that so?—, he said, —well, I just happened to listen to somethin' pretty interestin'. Hey, why doncha 'n me go for a drive before dinner then?—.

—What? That's the whole point, Mammon. I can't, I'm sorry. I'm-—.

Mammon froze but immediately sighed. —Say nothin', you don't have to explain yourself—. He pouted and started walking back home without even looking at you —Come on, let's go home—, he shrugged. As you walked behind Mammon, you sighed unhappy, looking at your shoes with every step back home.

Once you arrived, Lucifer took notice of your emotional state, as well. —Are you okay?—, he asked.

—Yeah...— you replied, sighing, not wanting to explain yourself again.

—Doesn't seem like it. I know. Would you like to come with me for some tea before dinner?—.

—Lucifer! You too?! I can't, I'm sorry. Did you forget why? I'm- —.

Lucifer pouts. —Say no more— he said, almost begging. You felt his disappointment, so you stood quiet. He turned around and left you, words still waiting to come out of your pretty mouth. This turned into an upsetting scenario. So, you thought that, at dinner, you could ask what is going on. Nonetheless, you were in a hurry. You needed to change into your regular clothes and get ready. After all, you were on cooking duty tonight. Since you're a normal human who has yet a lot to learn, you need to take the time to cook for seven + army-like rations for Beel. Besides, you wanted to do something nice for them all and cook each of their favorites as a thank you for all the great and thoughtful things they have done this week for you.

As you walked to the kitchen, ready to get started, you heard a heated discussion in the living room. Quietly, you walked to the room's threshold and listened:

—Okay!— Asmodeus shouted, —Who's the one who got the yes?! I am the most beautiful one! So which of you stole my MC?!—.

—Huh?! I should be the one saying that!— Mammon answered in the same raging tone of voice —Y'all know MC is MINE! Who stole them?!—.

—Yours?— Lucifer said, —Don't make me laugh, you'd be the last demon they'd want to belong to—.

—You're just bitter 'cause they didn't choose you either—, Mammon responded.

—Shut up!— Satan yelled and continued, —You're disturbing my reading time!—.

—You say that but you too are annoyed so I assume you weren't chose either—, Belphie pointed out. —When you all yell and fight, you make Beel sad. Look at him—.

—Nah—, Beel admitted, —They didn't chose me either, that's why I'm sad. I can't believe one of you stole them from me—.

—From you?!— Belphie snapped, —Rather one of you stole them from ME!—.

—No! From me!— Levi said —They're my only friend and you took that away from me!—.

A seven party discussion ensued, all of them talking about you "not choosing them" or "being stolen" from each of them. You are not an object to steal. You're not an asset, a thing they can take whenever they feel like it. It annoyed you that they didn't even ask you what was going on. Heck! They didn't even let you finish when you said you couldn't. Now it was your turn to snap.

—SHUT UP!— you ordered.

All the brothers had no choice but to do so. They all looked at you perplexed.

—I'm not an object you can own! I rejected all of you! Wanna know why? Because I'm on cooking duty today!—.

The brothers looked at each other, surprised. Asmo broke the silence, though: —But, this witch friend of mine said that the person you truly love was going to receive something from you around dinner time... who is it that you love MC? Come on! We are totally sorry, but we all love you too. Like, "love-you-romatically" love you, you know?—.

You blushed at Asmo's forthright love confession, worst of all, made on behalf of they seven, who quietly expected your answer as if confirming their brother's words. Nonetheless, you quickly pivot back to anger. —I have no idea what you're talking about. I was going to make everyone's favorites for dinner, but I guess that won't happen now. So for dinner, you'll eat whatever I make and shove it down!— you ordered. The seven brothers walked to their usual seats at the dinner table without a pinch of self-control, as if in a trance, unable to turn around, and waited there as you finished to cook dinner.

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You walk to the dinning table, feeling the tension and the growing impatience: Lucifer taps his fingertips on the table, Mammon and Leviathan shake their leg anxiously, Asmodeus holds his chin with both his hands while pouting. Satan reads a book, and every ten seconds or so, he tsks and starts over again; Beelzebub brushes his hair with both his hands over and over again, and Belphegor moves positions on his chair every two second or so, as well.

You have to admit that it makes you feel a little satisfied to look at them so worried, probably torn up between you, being angry, and you, cooking them all an unpleasant meal. Either way, it's because of you.

Satan spots you walking through the dining room opening, with their meals levitating around you by your magic; a simple trick that Solomon taught you no long ago. —Hey kitten. What do you have there? Not that we are worried or anything; in fact, we're eager to eat your delicious dinner. Why don't you unbound me from your order, and I'll help you set the table?—.

—Nice try— you think, but keep your mouth shut and instead, you answer: —I'm not a demon, Satan. I won't do anything bad to your meals—, you continue as you set their plates on their specific places —I'd never do something like that to you seven—, you grin devilishly as each of their specific meals take their places. The seven lords glup. Their meals don't look bad, but all and each of these are their least favorites. And of course, all of these with a teeny tiny of bit of a Solomon's unidentified substance, that you all kept in the bottom of the fridge, as one of the spices you used for cooking, enough for the dinner to taste awful but not enough to make them ill:

• Beef in a spicy sauce with Devildom eggplant salad for Asmodeus.

• Stir-fried green peppers for Mammon.

• Lots of green peas in a risotto for Satan.

• Stir-Fried Okra with tomatoes and fish for Leviathan.

• Chicken salad only, bathed in a copious amount of lemon juice for Beelzebub.

• Noodles in a very liquid salsa for Belphegor.

• And of course, tiny hamburgers for Lucifer and a side pudding as dessert.

—Although I didn't make your favorites, that's okay for you, right guys?—, you say, walking through the dinner threshold once again, not before taking your coat from your usual chair's support.

—Wh-Where are you going?—, Mammon asks.

—Oh! I decided I didn't want to have dinner at home today, so I invited Solomon, Simeon, Raphael, Thirteen, and Luke to Hell's kitchen for some delicious hamburgers. My treat!—, you answer with a passive-aggressive tone, a grin in your face that obviously hides your anger.

—MC, come on! We said we were sorry—, Asmo interferes.

—Oh! Nonononono! I know. I forgave you all. Remember?— you respond, and all the brothers sigh in relief. —But only of you eat your specific meals— you add, and they all sigh again, this time disgusted.

A ding dong sound stops the brother's spiraling thoughts, with no other option but to eat their least favorite foods, bounded by your orders, so even if they decided not to eat, they would anyway. —That's for me— you say, while taking your cute bag too, —Oh! I also added a little something-something to your dinner. It was kinda purple, I think Solomon brought it some weeks ago. You all don't mind, right?—.

The room falls silent, and you walk happily out of the house. At the door, your fellow exchange students and friends.

—Dammit!—, someome yells once you close the main door.

✨️💖❤️✨️💖💚✨️💖💛✨️💖💙✨️💖🧡✨️💖💜✨️

⏩️ Read my next text here ("Our future together", Mammon x gn!reader).

[Notes: The character(s) depicted here belong to the mobile game "Obey me: shall we date" and are owned by Solmare Corporation. The text here was made by me: Treasure of Mammon, meaning these are fan-made. | GN!Reader | English is not my first language, so there might be orthographic and syntax errors. I urge you all to interact kindly with this post].

📌 Masterlist

#Treasure of Mammon writing #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer #mammon obey me #obey me mammon #leviathan obey me #obey me leviathan #satan obey me #obey me satan #asmodeus obey me #obey me asmodeus #beelzebub obey me #obey me beelzebub #belphegor obey me #obey me belphegor #obey me fanfic #obey me fic #obey me funny #obey me petty #obey me writing #om swd #obey me fluff #obey me brothers #obey me mc #obey me nightbringer #om! nightbringer #nightbringer

[devilfic]

❝late-bloomer❞

plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.

a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha

Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"

You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.

You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."

No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.

But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."

"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."

"I'm serious, Pete."

He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."

"How did it feel? Do you know?"

"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."

Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.

You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."

You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.

A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."

Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"

A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.

You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.

But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.

At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.

Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.

But it wasn't laughing you worried about.

"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.

Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."

Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.

Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.

"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"

There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."

Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"

"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."

"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.

You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.

It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."

You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."

You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.

Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."

It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."

"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"

"I really don't want to. Move."

"Why are you shutting me out?"

"Because I want to go home. Move."

"Is it because of what I said?"

"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."

The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.

Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.

"I'll see you later, Pete."

You let his front door shut on its own.

It hasn't been great.

What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.

You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.

So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.

It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.

And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.

Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.

You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-

He's sitting in your kitchen.

Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."

Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."

Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"

"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.

You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."

"Busy avoiding your best friend."

You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.

The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.

"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."

Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.

"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."

"It's not a big deal?"

"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."

"So it doesn't matter at all."

"Correct."

"Right."

"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."

You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.

Suddenly, you're released.

You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."

You smile, "And I appreciate that."

Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"

"Zilch. Nada."

"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."

You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"

"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."

Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."

"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"

"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."

"And now we do."

"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"

He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."

You're six years old again.

You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.

You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.

And you're thinking... you start thinking something.

You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.

Peter's still staring at you, waiting.

Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.

But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.

You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.

When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.

Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."

Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.

Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."

He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."

You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.

Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.

You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.

You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"

You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"

Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."

"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."

"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"

"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."

"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."

Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"

His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."

You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.

Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."

"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"

"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"

You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."

You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.

This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.

So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.

Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.

You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"

You nod, speechless.

Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."

You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."

Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."

"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"

"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"

You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.

He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.

Did it? You stare up at Peter.

"We can try as many times as you want."

You might have a very different problem than you started with.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

#peter parker x reader #peter parker scenarios #peter parker imagines #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman scenarios #spiderman imagines #spiderman fic #spiderman fluff #spiderman angst #andrew garfield #spider-man #marvel #mjwrites #tasm

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Okay this fic idea has been in my head for weeks...

Imagine reader being Percy's (full) sister and secretly dating Clarisse. And Percy's rambling about not liking "hating" Clarisse and reader is just doing whatever and doing that thing where someone's pretending to be interested just hums and agrees absentmindedly and then he just says "Fuck Clarisse" and reader is like "GIRL I'M TRYING, BUT SHE'S BUSY" (this is not an actual smut request for her tho), but reader accidentally said it out loud (ik it's cliche to 'accidentally say stuff out loud but I like it in this context). And Percy is like "Excuse me what da fok" and then he storms off to yell at Clarisse and reader hears him yell "REALLY?! MY SISTER?!" and everyone who's watching is just scared for Percy and the consequenses of yelling at Clarisse.

I imagine the "Look here comes the consequence of my actions chasing me right now" audio during this scene

- I’ve been trying -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader

Synopsis - your secret relationship with clarisse quickly becomes not so secret

An - I BURNT MY FUCKING FINGER

Palestine aid links

It was a few hours before capture the flag. Most kids spent their time preparing for the game as it was the last one for summer; you however were pressed up against a tree with your favorite girl trailing sweet kisses down your neck.

“Fuck” you gasped as clarisse found your sweet spot. Bringing your hands to her hair you slightly tugged it, almost like an attempt to bring her closer of you could.

Clarisse flattened her tongue against the red mark she had began to leave. Her grip tightened on your hips and her leg pushing slightly between your thighs. The moment would of gone further only if clarisses brother hadn’t started yelling for hee.

Hitting her arm clarisse eventually came to, pulling away only slightly. “What-“ she panted heavily.

“Mm your brother he’s calling for you” you complained with a deep breath. Annoyed clarisse rolled her eyes. Taking a look around she returned her gaze back down at you, taking a notice of your pupil blown eyes. A giddy grin crossed her lips, finding her cocky attitude amusing you pushed off the tree to kiss her sweetly.

Shaking her head some clarisse squeezed your hip one last time. “You have no idea what you do to me… we’ll have to finish this later I’ll be busy for the rest of today and probably tomorrow” she sighed.

“Really” you complained making clarisse chuckle. “Yeah really, don’t get to bitchy it’s just two days”

Hitting her arm again you chuckled again. “Shut up I don’t get bitchy”

“Uh huh whatever you say babe” she teased drunkly walking backwards. Grabbing her spear she blew you a kiss before jogging towards the sound of her sibling calling.

——

“Then she has the AUDACITY! The fucking—“

“Language” you sighed giving Percy an authoritarian look. Shrugging you off he continued his ramble on about how he hated clarisse.

Shaking your head some you smiled finding it amusing your little brother hates your girlfriend. Though no body knew she was your girlfriend. You both agreeing on keeping it a secrete as it kept people off clarisses back and Percy off yours.

Your relationship with Percy had always been a little strained. Finding out you were a demigod let alone a daughter of Poseidon you had left home at an early age; causing you to never really know your brother. Growing up at camp it seemed like Percy was more like your friend than sibling. You still came home however, every holiday you were back in the same shitty apart with the same shitty step father.

When Percy finally came to camp it was easier to build a relationship with him. And for once… it felt like you really did have a brother.

“…also her blaming me for her spear breaking like it isn’t HER FAULT for attacking me! And I swear to the gods if I hear one more person say she isn’t that bad I’ll scream” Percy groaned holding his head in his hands while he paced in mad circles. Finally tuning back into the conversation the first thing you had heard — “UGH fuck clarisse!” He huffed.

“Girl I’m trying but she won’t be free until Sunday” you groaned holding your head back. It took only a moment for you to realize what you had said.

Looking at you then a door he quickly ran out, following his lead you chased after him. “Percy wait!” You yelled half laughing.

Instantly finding clarisse Percy stood before the cocky girl who was sitting with her siblings on the porch of their cabin; waiting for the final hour before the games.

Clarisse turned her attention from her brothers to Percy before scoffing. “What do You want beanstalk” her instult causing a small fit of laughter around her.

“MY SISTER OUT OF EVERYONE YOUR SLEEPING WITH MY SISTER!!” He shouted causing his face to go red.

The people around went quiet. For what seemed like minutes lasted only a few seconds before Percy began yelling again.

Clarisse who was stunned just sat there and let the boy yell at her. Standing right beside him was an embarrassed version of yourself.

At a certain point she had gotten tired of the small boy shouting at Her. His breaking voice annoying her. Standing up clarisse walked over to you, placing her hands on your waist and kissing you sweetly.

A slightly laugh leaving her lips as she knew your brother was watching in astonishment. Breaking the kiss she smiled at you before turning her shit eating grin to Percy. “Mind your business. What your sister does with me I’m sure you don’t wanna know” she chuckled, hitting your ass before walking away with her siblings following quickly.

Percy looked at you once again shocked. “Isn’t she dreamy” she smiled giddily. Your brother sighed, grabbing your shirt and dragging you away.

#wlw #clarisse is a lesbian #lesbian #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you

[starrystormwritings]

Something's Off

Something's Off

Master List <3 Request List <3 Criminal Minds Master List

Spencer Reid x Reader

A/n: Hey so I haven't written anything in over a year and this is my first criminal minds thing ever so any criticism is welcomed. This was written at 3am so any bad grammar or writing can be excused in my opinion lol. Please consider sending me some requests or ideas for anything on my request list, I'm desperate to get back to being active on here but I'm running low on ideas.

Summary: You and Spencer work at the BAU and after a lapse in Spencer's judgment you end up getting hurt.

Warnings: Murder, guns, shooting, stabbing, blood, hospitals, possible death, general criminal minds talk to gruesome murders

Word Count: 2669

(NOT MY GIF)

"There she is, we were starting to think you'd quit on us." Derek joked as me and Spencer walked into the briefing room hand in hand.

After a particularly long and emotional case I had decided to take some time to myself to recover from it.

It had only been a week but in this job that felt like years.

"Yep here I am, no need to worry. I know how much you all missed me." I said with a laugh while sitting down at the round table, Spencer going to grab our coffees.

"Can't argue with that, lover boy over there has been lost without you." Emily said with a laugh smiling at me.

Everyone else had taken their seats as Spencer sat next to me, sliding my coffee in front of me with an excited smile.

"Well as much as I wouldn't use the word lost I have missed having you around here." He blushed lightly, trying to speak in the least awkward manner as he could.

I knew he had missed me at work, everyday he came home to our apartment he'd be glued to my side explaining every detail of the case he'd just gotten back from, wanting to hear my opinions and spend time with me.

As much as hearing about work took away the point of taking time off from it watching Spencer ramble on passionately and excitedly to me was nice.

Plus if I'm being honest with myself I'd be bored without it.

"Six women have been found dead in a suburban town in Texas, all between the ages of twenty to thirty and have appeared within forty-eight hours of each other." Hotch explained whilst Penelope showed the pictures of the crime scenes behind him.

"All girls were found within sixteen hours of being deceased and had already been missing for more than a day, meaning he keeps them before murdering them. He has stabbed them all once in the abdomen, careful not to hit any vital organs so the body doesn't shut down. Instead he stabs them to leave them to slowly bleed out." Penelope added whilst handing folders of information out to everyone.

"So it's likely he already has another girl with him now?" Rossi asked with a frown as he flicked his folder open.

"More than likely yes, and with and increasing confidence and skill set we can only assume he's going to continue at a quicker or more brutal pace the longer he's able to." Spencer added, looking to the group with a smile that matched nothing that he just said.

I sighed and looked at the images in front of me, at least this case seemed fairly simple in comparison to some of what we've had to face.

~~~

"This guy is most likely a social younger man who holds enough respect and familiarity within the area for people to feel comfortable enough to get into his vehicle alone at night. He doesn't force his victims to comply they willingly trust him until it's too late due to his natural charm and charisma. Then he holds them for a day before killing and disposing of them. He doesn't hurt them in their time of captivity, meaning he most likely feels remorse or is unsure of his actions, but the thrill of the kill is to enticing for him to let them go. He's confident within his ability to kill, shown in the slow and precise manner he takes in the murder. He is most likely a local who has lived here his whole life due to his knowledge of the area and the trust everyone has toward him. He also appears confident in his ability to not be caught, since he dumps the bodies rather than hiding them. He believes he's more intelligent than most people and above the law, and his high IQ helps fuel this narcissistic ideal he has of himself. That is all thank you." Hotch walks away from the room of police officers who were noting down his profile, gesturing to Emily, Rossi and Derek to follow him into an interrogation room.

I jumped up from the table I was sat on and gathered my notes from next to me.

"I just don't understand how we could have such a sick individual in our community doing this to women. It's just shocking to me." Officer Davis said from beside me.

He was the head officer on the case and the chief of police in this town, he'd been assisting me and Spencer in the last few hours with trying to create an idea of where to begin looking.

"Yeah it always comes as a shock when a member of your community causes something like this." I offered him a small smile whilst gathering my stuff to head over to Spencer, Officer Davis following closely behind me.

"I just can't believe something like this could happen here."

"Can you think of any groups of people within the community that hold a lot of respect and trust? Like public speakers, church groups, large charity groups or public helpers?" I asked him flicking to the page of possible careers I had, smiling at Spencer as I settled my stuff next to him.

"Well apart from the obvious like the police and fire force, I couldn't think of anything. We're quite a religious area but none of our churches have any well known priests that everyone would know, we have too many churches and priests for people to form personal connections with. Although we do have a large neighbourhood watch group. They do nightly patrols in cars around the streets and main roads. They're a very large group of people."

Spencer's head shot up at the last bit. "Do they have a known leader people would know? Or any type of uniform they wear to be recognisable?" He asked Davis while scribbling something on his whiteboard.

"Not uniforms no. Although, the patrol cars they use do have these stick on lights they use to be recognisable. Pauls the leader, he tells people when their needed for patrol."

"So our unsub could be a patrol member, approaching women in his car so they know he's apart of the watch group and trust him enough to get into the car without any hesitation!" Spencer said turning to Davis "I need a list of names of the leaders of the group."

I opened my phone, calling Penelope "I'll get a list of the people on patrol the nights that these girls were taken, see if there's anyone that was working every night."

~~~

Less than a day, that's all we had to find this woman before it was too late.

I was stood in an office with Spencer and Rossi, bouncing ideas off of each other, hoping something stuck.

"Penelope got him." Derek said with a smile walking into the room.

"Paul Fredrick, thirty-five years old, lived here his whole life, was arrested ten years ago for an assault against an twenty-one year old woman, and in charge of the neighbourhood watch patrol schedule." Spencer read from the paper Derek just handed him.

"Hotch, Emily and that detective are already heading there. We need to go this girl probably hasn't got that long left." Derek said gesturing us out of the door quickly.

~~~

"He's confessed." Spencer said with a smile, kissing me on the head as he took a seat next to me.

I'd been sat in this empty office in the police station for an hour now, something just doesn't feel right.

"Really? Doesn't that seem strange to you? I mean according to the profile this guy is confident and intelligent. Surly he wouldn't confess after an hour of interrogation." I bit my lip lightly as I re-read my notes again and again.

"Well sometimes the profile isn't completely correct. Plus they found the girl in an abandoned warehouse a ten minute drive away from his house." Spencer shrugged "he isn't as confident as the profile indicates, he was also quite anxious and stressed when confronted which was surprising, but the evidence points to him and he's confessed. All of the logic adds up."

"I guess. I just don't feel right." I sigh and look up to him with a frown.

He matches my expression and stands up, kissing my forehead lightly before collecting his stuff. "You probably just need some rest it's been a long weekend. The plane leaves in an hour, I'll go collect our stuff for us."

He gave me one more smile before leaving the room. As I glanced after him I saw the rest of the station basically empty and the time was three in the morning.

With another sigh I gathered my stuff and headed out the door. Maybe ten minutes outside in the fresh air would chill me out.

"Everything alright?" A voice from behind me asked, making me jump.

"Davis hi you scared me." I said with a laugh, holding the door for him as we both walked outside. "Everything's okay yeah I'm just rethinking the case."

"What's bothering you about it?" He asked, lighting himself a cigarette.

"I don't know, the whole thing just seems off, I mean why would Fredrick confess so quickly? He doesn't match the profile at all, he's awkward and of a lower intelligence. I just don't see how he could do this alone. Plus why would he take these woman to an abandoned warehouse that could be accessed to the public or the police whenever rather than his own house? He lived alone in an remote area with no neighbours. It just doesn't add up." I shrugged and pulled my arms closer to me since the cold was nipping at my arms.

All of a sudden I felt a blunt pain hit the side of my head.

~~~

(Spencers pov)

"Everything alright kid?" Derek asks me with a concerned look.

"Yeah, I'm just worried about Y/n." I reply, fidgeting with my fingers as I talk "She's been questioning the case and I'm starting to think she might've been onto something."

"What do you mean?"

"Well didn't Fredrick seem odd to you? He had a low IQ and no charisma at all, even if you knew of him I doubt many people would willingly get into his car. Plus he transported the girls for no reason, he put himself at risk by doing it in that warehouse rather than his own home. There's no way he could've done this alone."

"What are you getting at here kid?"

"Well didn't he come across to you as more of a submissive personality?"

"You think we have two unsubs here? A team?"

I shook my head quickly calling Y/n as I spoke. 

"No not a specifically a team. A dominant who lured the girls and killed them, and a submissive who picked the girls out, disposed of the bodies and took the fall. It would make sense, Fredrick was to easy to find, this unsub would be to intelligent to be this simple. Fredrick was on patrol the nights the girls were taken, he most likely saw them first and then alerted the other unsub of them so he could then take them."

"Well if this unsub was so intelligent how come it was so easy to find his partner?"

The phone rang out, that's strange Y/n always picks up.

"He wanted us to. He pointed us in that direction to throw us off, he didn't need Fredrick and he knew he would stay loyal if he was caught. He wanted us to catch Fredrick so we'd leave."

Derek's eyes went wide as he got his phone out of his phone to call someone.

"You know who told us about the neighbourhood watch and the list of likely suspects?"

Derek asked with a frown.

"Davis."

~~~

"Has anyone seen Y/n?" I asked as I walked into the room that the rest of the team were in.

They all looked at me with worried expressions as Emily handed me my bulletproof vest.

"According to the CCTV she was last seen leaving the station with Officer Davis" Hotch said clearing his throat, trying to remain stern and collected even though he was as distraught as the rest of the team.

"What?" my face fell as I scanned the room, everyone either looking away from me or straight at me with concern. 

Derek's phone beeped and everyone's heads snapped up to look at him as he stood. "Pen's got an address, lets go."

~~~

"FBI!" Derek yelled as he kicked down the door, letting himself into the house as I followed behind, gun trained ahead of me.

"What am I looking for here Reid?" he asked, clearing the first room.

"A basement most likely." I said walking ahead, spotting a door that appeared to be heading downstairs.

I nodded my head toward it and Derek went ahead, opening it slowly and walking down.

I followed close behind him, a loud smash was heard from in front of us and before I could even see Derek shot, leaving Davis on the floor.

"He tried to run, threw something glass at me." Derek said, gesturing to the blood from the new cut on his arm.

"Can you see her anywhere?" I pushed in front of him as he flicked on the light switch.

I scanned the room before my eyes landed on her figure in the corner, laying on the floor looking pale and bleeding from somewhere. "Y/N!" I ran over there, putting my gun away as Derek called for a medic through the radio.

"Hey your going to be okay. I'm so sorry, I should've listened I'm so sorry. Y/n please. Come on open your eyes. Please..." I felt Derek's hand on my shoulder as I started to cry.

Before I could comprehend what was happening a group of medics came in and surrounded her, Derek pulling me out of the room.

~~~

I paced the hospital waiting room floor, it had been hours and we'd heard nothing.

Emily was asleep on two chairs. Hotch was sat looking at the floor, tapping his foot anxiously. Rossi had been standing up to speak to the receptionist every ten minuets, and Derek had be constantly picking up calls from Penelope who had kept ringing for updates despite Derek promising to call her as soon as we knew.

And I had basically paced a hole through the floor.

"Reid sit down and eat something. Stop punishing yourself." Hotch said with a frown.

I shook my head and continued pacing. "I can't, I should've listened to her, or stayed with her. I didn't even try first aid I just froze when I saw her..." I replied, voice cracking.

A doctor cleared his throat behind us "Y/n L/n?"

We all looked up at him with matching worried expressions.

I held my breath as we waited for him to say something.

"She was stabbed in the abdomen but luckily suffered no trauma to any organs. She's lost a lot of blood but she's going to be okay. She's just woken up so she's a bit out of it but she can take one visitor."

I felt my whole body relax as I took a breath.

"She's okay?" I asked again with a shaky breath.

Derek put his hand on my shoulder and nodded with a smile "She's going to be okay kid."

I let out a little sob and nodded my head with a small smile.

"Reid you should go see her, let her know we're all here." Hotch said patting my other shoulder.

I nodded at both of them and followed after the doctor, taking a seat next to her bed, holding her hand in mine as carefully as I could.

She opened her eyes, slowly turning her head to look at me.

Somehow she was still smiling as bright as ever, provoking my face to mirror hers on instinct.

"Hey you." she said with a small laugh.

"Hi." I kissed her knuckles, a few tears escaping my eyes as I looked at her.

"Why're you crying? I'm the one who's be stabbed dumbass." she joked with a small laugh, causing me to chuckle.

"I love you so much, don't you ever do this again. I really thought I'd lost you. I don't know what I would've done."

"I'll try my best to stay alive then, just for you Spence."

She smiled sweetly at me with another small laugh, I admired her face for a second before leaning in to kiss her lips softly.

#fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer read x y/n #spencer reid x you #x reader #mathew gray gubler

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 17th: Oct 17th: Tolkien | Ramble On - Led Zeppelin | Intelligent a/n: hospital setting, painkillers, post-canon fix-it, eddie & nancy friendship, steddie. un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

today's prompt is a lost scene from day 6's prompt, crush:

Nancy figured it out when Eddie was in the hospital, still a little loopy from painkillers and who knows what else.  You were on another planet and couldn’t stop talking about his chest hair, Eddie.

Nancy Wheeler sits in the little white chair next to Eddie Munson’s hospital bed, the rhythmic beeping of his heart monitor the only noise keeping her company. Well, that, and the sound of her own voice, softly reading The Fellowship of the Ring while Eddie dozes. 

They’ve taken turns, the older teens and a few of the kids, oscillating back and forth between Max’s room and Eddie’s room to ensure no one is left alone for too long while Wayne and Susan are at work. Hospital bills aren’t cheap and while the government will most likely reimburse them for their troubles, right now, things are tight. 

It’s Nancy’s turn in Eddie’s room tonight, picking up where Wayne’s left off in Eddie’s favorite book. Worn and well-read, the book’s loose spine allows Nancy to let it rest on her thigh as she flips through the pages: 

“But long ago he rode away, and where he dwelleth none can say; for into darkness fell his star, in Mordor where the shadows are," Nancy reads, glancing up when she sees Eddie begin to squirm. 

“Mordor,” Eddie murmurs, his voice slurring a bit from the painkillers. “You know, Led Zeppelin wrote a song with Mordor in it.” 

“Oh, did they?” She’s seen him like this a few times now, barely present but speaking in a stream of consciousness. Sometimes, it’s about Dungeons and Dragons. Sometimes, it’s about music, or books– his underappreciated intelligence shines through even the strongest of IV drugs. 

And sometimes, it’s about Steve. That one had been a surprise at first, but keeps all of his ramblings secret, unsure of what he’s telling the others. It’s best to simply indulge him, she’s learned. He never remembers anyways. 

“Mhm,” he cracks open one eye and grins before he starts to sing. “In the darkest depths of Mordor, I met a girl so fair.”

Before she can respond, Eddie continues in his drug-addled haze. “In the darkest depths of Mordor, I met Steve. Sweet, sweet Steve. Steve and his chest hair. Ever notice how hairy he is?” 

Nancy shakes her head and purses her lips, bemused. “I did, yeah, I was there, remember?” 

“Nope,” Eddie says with a pop. “But I do remember that jungle he calls a chest.” 

She snorts back a laugh and tries to subtly hide it behind her hand. Eddie doesn't notice, simply stares through half-lidded eyes and falls back against the pillows. 

“But Gollum and the evil one crept up and slipped away with her-er, her-er,” he continues to sing and wax poetic. 

Eddie’s heart monitor begins to speed up. “Where is Steve, actually? Is he okay?” 

Nancy smiles, fond and knowing, and places a hand on top of his. “He’s fine, he’ll be here later.” 

Sometimes, Eddie forgets how much time has passed from that awful day in Forest Hills, that Steve’s healed up and visits three times a week. That sometimes, Steve visits outside of their established rotation, just because. She never begrudges having to remind him though. How could she when she gets to see the relief drip from his face when he hears again that Steve’s okay? 

Eddie lays back again, the measured beats of his heart monitor returning to a comfortable, predictable tempo. Nancy picks the book back up and continues to read until she sees the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the white sheets. 

“Hey,” a familiar voice whispers from the doorway. Nancy turns to see Steve standing there, leaning against the frame. “How’s he holdin’ up?” 

“Hey,” she smiles. “He was a little out of it earlier from the medication, but he’s been asleep for a few minutes now. I’ve just been reading to him, if you wanna pick up where I left off.” 

Nancy closes the book with the ribbon inside to hold the page and stands, clearing the chair for Steve. “He’s all yours.” 

As the steel door closes behind her, she hears Steve’s voice begin reading. 

‘Is there no escape then?’ said Frodo, looking round wildly. ‘If I move I shall be seen and hunted! If I stay, I shall draw them to me!’

Strider laid his hand on his shoulder. ‘There is still hope,’ he said. ‘You are not alone.’

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler & eddie munson #eddie month #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #eddie month prompts #i wanted to do more bc this is my fav song but alas!

[astro-ellie]

im actually pulling out my hair because of the abby & ellie being sisters fanfic, I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS???

abby has you wrapped around her finger.

you had sneaked into the living room a few hours before sunrise, luckily ellie and dina were both fast asleep still. you felt exhausted, but trying to sleep seemed impossible. instead, you tossed and turned on your side of the couch until you could hear the morning birds outside the big living room window.

ellie woke up before dina did. you could see the way she carefully slipped out of dina's arms before sitting up, stretching her arms before letting out a yawn. when she saw that you were awake, she blushed for a second, realising that you must have seen the way she was cuddled up to your dear friend on the couch.

the blush disappeared quickly though when ellie took a look at you and muttered "well, you look like shit." scoffing at her bluntness, typically ellie, you decided to keep quiet. because what could you say? sorry, haven't slept 'cause your sister kept me occupied half the night and then i couldn't stop thinking about her for the other half.

you'd rather not get attacked with a pillow this early in the morning. or even worse, have ellie stomp over to abby's room and create some kind of scene.

you would not want to be in the same house as her when she sees the bruises on abby's neck.

it doesn't take too long for dina to wake up as well, and before she can drop a comment similar to ellie, you quickly say "had trouble sleeping" while waving your hand dismissively. the way dina gives you a knowing smile takes you by surprise, but there's no time to question it as ellie is already heading towards the kitchen.

following her, you're filled with memories of the previous night. meeting abby in the kitchen felt like an answer to your prayer. it seemed to be impossible to get her to yourself, without the interference of ellie, without making it too obvious you were trying to get her alone.

her confident attitude made you weak in the knees, and when the word "good" had slipped past her lips you were sure you'd be melting into a puddle on the floor any minute.

maybe you should have been more embarrassed at how easy it was for abby to make you putty in her arms, but it's difficult to feel embarrassed when all you can think about is how good she made you feel last night. it's really hard to feel embarrassed when all you can think about is how she took you to her bedroom.

when you sit down to eat breakfast with the girls, you're completely zoned out. ellie doesn't pay you any mind however, busy rambling on to dina about the latest issue of that science magazine she's always reading.

sipping on the glass of juice in silence, it's almost as if you're back in abby's room again. you can almost feel her hand around your wrist again as you reminisce how she pulled you towards her bedroom door.

"what?" abby's soft voice had pulled you out of your thoughts. "nothing, i just- it's exactly like i expected it to be." giving her a small smile, abby's lips pulling into her signature smirk.

"you've been imagining how my bedroom looks?" her tone was teasing, but that had not stopped your cheeks from heating up. standing awkwardly in the opening of the room, the way abby had sat down on the edge of her bed and slightly spread her legs had made your heart quicken in your chest.

"why don't you close the door and come over here? thought we could have a little chat..." and the look in her eyes, the way she had looked you up and down as if she was ready to eat you, made it clear that she wasn't actually planning on just talking. so with that, you had closed the door behind you and made your way over to her.

"are you even listening?" ellie's raspy voice breaks you out of your trance, and it's only now you realise that both she and dina are done with their breakfast. "you gotta' hurry up, jesse is picking us up soon."

"yeah, yeah. i'll finish this quickly." stuffing your face with the food in front of you, you don't pay any mind to the sound of a door further down the hall opening. it's not until you hear the familiar voice of abby, greeting ellie with a "hey loser", that you look up.

at first, ellie only grunts something in response. when abby turns around, milk jug in hand, she truly gets her little sister's attention.

"hey, what's that on your neck?"

#abby anderson #tlou abby #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson drabble #abby anderson blurb #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson smut #abby anderson angst #blurb #best friend’s sister

[talktolwt]

I would like to focus on the music chosen for Hob Gadling's 80s sequence.

I'm extremely late to the world of The Sandman (finally binged it two weeks ago after my mother had been begging me to watch it with her and now I'm more obsessed than her) Bottom line: I'm unbelievably glad I finally watched this beautiful piece of television.

I have yet to read the comics but as for the first season, I have to say, without a doubt, my favorite episode is Chapter 6: The Sound of Her Wings. Death's 20-min segment is a beauty unto itself, but I'll be focusing on Hob's segment today. Specifically, his 80s scenes.

Considering I'm so late to this fandom and exploring all of its wondrous details and themes, excuse me if this has already been noted. I've been thinking about these details over and over but I need to get it out there in the Sandman world and hear everyone else's thoughts.

*Also excuse the terrible photos - Netflix doesn't let you screenshot and I was too lazy to get another app to let me bypass it. Please bear with my photos of my laptop screen.*

There are three songs that play throughout this sequence.

#1 - "She Drives Me Crazy" by Fine Young Cannibals

I accidentally deleted half my post mid-writing this but here I go again.

As we can see, after the breakup scene, we open up on Hob Gadling (he looks amazing in his 80s look, by the way) and this song plays.

Here are the lyrics:

I mean - where do I even start LMAO.

*Let me just give another note - regardless if you ship Dreamling romantically or not, I will be merely analyzing these lyrics as they are and how they convey Hob's feelings for Dream in general. But, I mean, the songs are THERE, the text is THERE. So do with that what you will.*

This will go for the following two songs as well, but these songs are placed with meaningful intention. Each of these offer a unique lens and dive into Hob's feelings.

I won't be annoying and over-explain anything, but the lyrics are clear I feel:

"She drives me crazy" - cough

"Things you do don't seem real" - in Hob's view, Dream literally is an enigma. Hob has no idea the capacities, the limits, and even the name of this being he meets every century.

"This waiting 'round's killing me" - well.

"Everything you say is lies" - now I wouldn't say particularly lies, but Dream does keep and omit things from Hob. Understandably, Hob would find himself in a confused limbo with Dream.

Here's the kicker:

"I won't make it on my own/No one likes to be alone." - HELLO. I mean, if this isn't the core message and pinnacle of Dream and Hob's lesson to immortality.

As Death mentions earlier in the episode, around 18:10, "Most of us will be glad for the company of a friend."

I feel I could go on forever and ever about the beauty of this episode and how well The Sound of Her Wings and Men of Good Fortune intertwine. They beautifully complement each other as stories lamenting the dichotomy of life and death, and the joys of humanity.

But essentially, Death reteaches Dream how beautiful humans can truly be, and in this pivotal moment, she says this zinger of a line. The camera was initially on Death but for THIS line, it cuts to Dream.

BECAUSE - poor Dream is definitely in need a friend.

Which is then shown to the audience by the 30-min long Hob Gadling sequence that ensues, and we see Dream's aversion to needing someone, to needing a friend.

But I digress - back to the song, and that one line about not wanting to be alone.

That is such a poignant line, because as much as Dream felt alone and needed company, so does Hob? An immortal, constantly seeing the death of others around him, his companions and family long gone, he needs someone.

Considering this 80s sequence ruminates so heavily on post-breakup feelings, Hob is missing Dream dearly. His constant in life.

I'm rambling too much, onto the next one!

#2 - "Shattered Dreams" by Johnny Hates Jazz

Time skip to perhaps a few hours later, who knows. We see Hob still waiting for Dream, alone in the pub.

Hm.

Literally what else could I say. I'm being slapped in the face with pining and angst and longing.

Here are the lyrics:

Some noteworthy lyrics:

"So much for your promises/They died the day you let me go" - this breakup man

"Caught up in a web of lies" - another lie motif

"I thought it was you/Who would stand by my side" - the theme of Dream and Hob being constants in each other's lives

"Shattered dreams" - I could scream. The title of the song. SHATTERED. DREAMS. giggling rn.

"Woke up to reality" - I think that's a very interesting line toeing between the constant references of the Waking and the Dreaming

Basically, I've been noting these evident similarities within the songs to align themselves to Dream and Hob's situation, and it's clear that the director/writers chose these songs with intent of it paralleling Dreamling.

So that makes it even more insane when lines like "From this empty heart" are meant to parallel Hob. Like.

Okay, last song.

#3 - "Keep On Moving" by Soul II Soul

This song plays as the night progresses. It's late, it's clear Dream isn't showing up, and Hob is feeling pretty final about that, and perhaps he's accepted it at this point. Dream isn't coming.

So this is where he speaks to the bartender and that scene ensues.

Here are the lyrics:

The themes of time and clocks are super prevalent within this song, and again it's once more clear how heavily this reflects and represents Hob.

Noteworthy lyrics:

"Why do people choose to live their lives this way?" - I think this also uniquely touches on the general aspect of humanity and one's reason to live/love life. Dream battles with his confusion/slight disappointment for humanity at the beginning, as he asks Death, "Why would any sensible creature crave an eternity of this?" And then Hob helps Dream realize why there's so much to live for. (24:30)

"I know the time will come today/The time will come one day"

"Walking alone in my own way" - Again this idea of walking alone and needing company.

"You'll be in my life, my life always" - Dream and Hob being constants again.

This all goes to say - Hob cares. He cares for Dream.

And I just think that's very beautiful. The magnitude with which Dream's absence means to him and how much their friendship/companionship both means to each of them. I just think their connection is a beautiful thing that I love seeing and rewatching. Wonderfully, these songs give the audience even more layered insight into this connection.

This was super long, and I apologize if I went on some tangents. But I also just couldn't help it, The Sandman is so incredibly rich in its storytelling and its connections and dynamics that I had to write this all down. I also just very much appreciate the amount of care and detail that goes into every aspect of television, and needle drops such as these three songs are no exception.

Thank you for sticking with me through this! Can't wait for season 2!

#i have more thoughts #i think i will never fully be satisfied with this post #there will always be too much to say #but wow #they CARE #there's LOVE there #genuine love #i love them #dream the endless #lord morpheus #king of dreams #hob gadling #hob #dreamling #dreamling meta #dream x hob #the sandman #music as outlets to the soul #and emotion #music #the sound of her wings #men of good fortune #i hope whoever read this enjoyed! #thank you

[privitivium]

I NEED a yan ghiacchio with a reader that acts dense but knows that ghiacchio likes him, but wanted ghiacchio to be the one who confesses

Imagining an overly possessive and angry person be so shy towards someone is just cute to me..

I need a jealous scene..like seriously.

sure friend. sorry for any mistakes that mightve slipped by

yandere, jealous ghia w knowing, "dense" male reader

subbot ghiaccio/topreader. rambles

cw;; nsfw, toxic ghia sorta!

i cant imagine him as nice nor shy bro,, he's a major a bratty jackassy bttm. imagining ghiaccio as shy to someone he likes is a little hard for me but not totally impossible... he flirts really lamely by critiquing everything you do without even trying to be rude - it's just how he comes off as!! i mean,, hes definitely a little awkward or sometimes way too mean at times - but that's only because he imagines really dirty stuff about you at random while interacting with you or seeing you talk to your shared friends...

seeing you, not chilling with the rest of the gang as usual, rather getting ready for something - to go somewhere... no longer in your usual outfit which consisted of comfortable clothes, you were a bit dressed up... to go to the bar, you say? and are you inviting him? he expects to be invited too, it's a courtesy, no?? no, it isn't. but you should probably inform him of your plans earlier on, huh?! look at all this racket now, theyre all curious as to where you're going! ( it's really just him who's curious - you usually all go together, but you want to go alone?...) he invites himself to go with you, playing it off coolly as he couldㅡ

"you moronㅡof course you can't go alone!ㅡwe are a team and it's time you start acting like it." tugging the passenger door to your car open and sitting with his arms crossed over his chest. you wouldn't stand for being berated for being weak - but you know this man can go on for hours and sit for days in anger if you were to start an argument about wanting alone time, so you leave it alone and cruise... ghiaccio twitching, tapping along the armrest in near nervousness? glancing over at you - just in-beetween your legs and feels blood shoot downward. he directs the cool air to his face and has to sit in the awkwardnessㅡ

ghiaccio shyly mentioning, "i'm privy to a few quality places in this area..." and with that, coolly replying and not missing a beat - "oh, yeah? you have to show me, sometime..." ghiaccio stills, nearly squirming in his seat - were you flirting? you were flirting. that sounded like flirting and ghiaccio was not stupid, you were flirting. huffing out the rough sentence of;; "... yeah, whatever. don't draw attention to yourself."

hanging around you at the bar you dragged him to - it was scarce of people. not that ghiaccio minded... he felt like you were on a date, drinking your little drinks together... it was awkwardly silent between you - and he had no idea how to fix it. were you mad at him or something?!? what gave you the right to be mad at him-? the disgusting feeling of love sickness settling in his tummy as he feels your elbow brush against his - and not to mention this is a classy place!! changing the subject in his mind from the way you feel, he couldn't stand the fucking loudmouths on your left - who obviously didn't understand bar etiquette.

ㅡand he hated the fact that you joined in??? hearing you voice your own thoughts on whatever they were talking - making friends with drunken idiots... despicable. how can you stand such stupidity? it's nearly commendable. not to mention you were with him - ghiaccio?! shouldnt you be talking to him instead of these damned strangers?! it was two men, three including you, before one of the drunken morons leave - leaving you talking animatedly with the other...

or it could be something like. you dancing with a crowd of people - ghiaccio watching from his table or the bar - seeing some guys hand brush against your ass. either way, it ends up with ghiaccio beating the piss out of some guy behind the bar surrounded by the other patrons too scared of his pure white rage and you have to be the one to forcefully drag him offㅡ"what happened to not drawing attention to ourselves?" keeping your tone leveled as you leisurely lead him away by the crook of his arm, and he follows wordlessly. surprising. even more surprising that he didnt freeze the guy and break the ice.

in the end, dragging him home - offering conversation in the car... and not at all mentioning the guy he beat up out of disgusting jealousy,,, then at the base, being a little extra touchy with him - knowing how it gets him. he was wondering if you did know how you made him feel - getting paranoid about you and jerking off in the shower while muttering, "i hate you," or "i love you,". Loser

#jojo =͟͟͞͞★ #male reader #x male reader #ghiaccio x male reader #jojo's bizzare adventure x male reader #jjba x male reader #yandere ghiaccio! #yandere ghiaccio x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere male x reader #yandere male x male reader #yandere m x m reader

[yawnzbf]

⚝ HATE YOU

// CHOI BEOMGYU X GN READER

,,beomgyu witnesses and angry confession, it's up to him what happens next

,,haha, angst (kinda), TXT fic after such a long time, fluff, happy ending, sorta crack?

"It's disgusting how much you invade my mind," they spat out. Beomgyu’s usual teasing grin fell as he looked at their serious and angry face. they huffed, looking away, not daring to stare into his eyes.

"It's like you can't let me live in peace! Every corner of my mind is filled by you and I hate it more that I just can't seem to stop it!" their voice cracked as they confessed to him. they stared into his eyes, now feeling a bit braver. y/n's burning rage was against his cold and icy stare.

"Even now," they scoffed, staring at his unreadable eyes. they just can't seem to understand him or his feelings while they were so readable to him, so vulnerable to him. they hated that fact alone. "Even-... Even now you don't seem to care nor mind about what I've just said!"

Yes. It was humiliating, crying over a guy who would only tease them and push all their buttons to the point they'd explode. It was so embarrassing that they were showing their vulnerable state just for him to stare blankly at them like this. Most of all... they hated themself for even thinking he would have some sort of reaction.

"I- I hate you so much to the point of disgust,"

they took a final glance at his dumb face and then turned around, wiping the tears away. This will be the last time they'll let him walk all over them. This will be the last time they'd let themself think about him. What were they expecting? A pull back to his arms? A romantic scene where he'd confess his feelings as well? That only happens in fiction. Reality is often disappointing.

"I-... Idiot! Come back!" He shouted, running to yn. they spun their heel, seeing that stupid face of his coming closer. they almost wanted to laugh, he never liked running. "How..." yn’s smile dropped, seeing his stance, "Dare," eyes widened, trying to run away, "You!" But they were just a second short.

He tackled them to the ground.

"Agh! That hurts you bitc!-"

"If you hate me, I hate you more! How dare you say those things and think I'd be able to take it all in!?" He shouted, his eyes flared in anger. It was one of those rare rages they had only ever seen once or twice. they gulped, letting him just ramble on. "It's disgusting to you!? Every day to every hour to every second I think of you!" He took a deep breath.

"And I quite enjoy that, okay!? I like thinking about you! I like it so much that I-..." He stopped his words. The two of them sat in front of each other, both unable to speak words.

"Y-You understand, right? What I feel..." He swallowed his saliva. For the first time in their life, they saw his flustered face.

"Only if you say it," they huffed. He opened his mouth, speechless.

"What? No way, you say it first," He insisted. they frowned, shaking their head.

"I initiated this conversation, you should end it nicely!" they reasoned out but he wasn't having any of it.

"Actually you ended it just now, I started this conversation!" He fired back. The two stared at each other before sighing. Silence filled the air as they just stared at each other. He fiddled with his hands while they played with a few strands of their hair.

Maybe they just don't need words. Maybe he could just tug on their hand while they leaned closer. Maybe he just had to glance at their lips to signal to them and maybe they would just have to nod in agreement.

And they kissed without needing words or their endless bickering. They just needed him.

#yawnzbf #gn reader #tomorrow x together #male reader #beomgyu x male reader #beomgyu x reader #txt beomgyu #txt x gn reader #txt x male reader #choi beomgyu #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x gn reader

[foxy-eva]

Behind Closed Doors

Summary: It feels like time stands still when you’re inside Spencer’s arms, until someone comes to remind you about the world outside of his apartment

Request: Spencer and reader spend the night together. They get calls in the morning for a case but they don’t respond, the team goes to their apartments, only to find them together at Spencer’s place. Fluff and maybe smut :)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff, Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI!) getting caught, grinding, slight hair pulling, oral (male receiving), fingering, handjob, protected penetrative sex

Author's Note: This request was so much fun and I honestly made myself giggle while writing the last scene. Special thanks to @writer-in-theory and @reidselle for beta reading!

Word count: 4.5k

Masterlist

Exactly seventeen minutes of you watching your coworker had passed until Spencer lifted his eyes from the file in front of him and found you staring at him. The corners of your mouth curled upwards while he furrowed his eyebrows and briefly looked over his shoulder to make sure it was him you smiled at. 

“Everything… okay?” He hesitantly asked. 

“I’m waiting for you to finish up so I can offer you a ride home,” you announced.  

“That’s okay. I don’t mind taking the train.”

As you got up from your desk and walked over to him, he averted his eyes until you stood right in front of him. Honey-colored irises looked at you with a precious glimmer, reminding you of the curiosity children displayed when they inspected foreign objects. When he coyly smiled at you, you heard your heart screaming at you to not let him go home alone. 

“Come on, pack up. I insist,” you laughed while closing the files on his desk. 

Feeling courageous for once, you let your fingers brush over his as you tried to take the pen from his hand. A part of you expected him to flinch away at the contact, but he didn’t. Instead his cheeks took on a light pink shade as he let your fingertips linger on his hand for a split second before giving up the pen from his grip. 

“Okay, yes. A ride home actually sounds nice. It’s pouring outside,” he finally concluded and got up from his desk. 

“Well, good thing you have me then.” 

He chuckled at that and nodded, “Yes, it is good to… have you.” 

The heavy rain made it necessary to adjust the speed below the tempo limit, prolonging the drive to Spencer’s place. You didn’t mind in the slightest. On the contrary, you cherished every second spent with your favorite coworker more than you’d like to admit. Even hours stuck in traffic sounded delightful as long as you had Spencer in your passenger seat. No matter how much time you had with him, it always passed way too quickly anyway. 

Listening to his rambles about the subjects near and dear to his heart always enlightened a spark inside you, letting you long to be the one person he would always feel comfortable sharing his thoughts with. You drove slower than necessary the closer you got to his apartment, wondering if he would notice what you were doing. If he did, he didn’t say anything and instead kept sharing his thoughts about a Russian movie you had never heard of. 

“We should watch it sometime,” you suddenly said, your eyes averting from the road for a moment to meet his. He smiled at your suggestion.

“Yeah? I would like that.” 

Pulling into the parking lot at Spencer’s apartment building, you couldn’t stop the sigh dropping from your lips. You watched him as he unbuckled his seatbelt before turning his head to look at you. 

“Thank you for the ride.”

There were no right words to be found to tell him that you didn’t want your time together to end just yet, so you didn’t say anything at all. Before he could ask you if you were okay, you undid your own seatbelt to lean over the center console, only to halt your motion before you could close the gap between your lips and his. 

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered with a heart suddenly beating louder than the words you spoke.

You quickly pulled back, shocked at your own boldness. The realization that you had just almost kissed Dr. Spencer Reid hit you hard as you stared into his widened eyes. After what felt like an eternity but was probably just seconds, his facial features softened and you felt his fingertips meet your heated cheeks. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he whispered as he leaned closer. 

This time you dared to close the remaining distance, your lips tentatively ghosting over his, still uncertain if this is what he wanted. You felt his hand wander from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, pulling you a little closer so he could let his mouth fully brush over yours. 

The sensation of his lips against yours sent sparks through your body. 

When he deepened the kiss and let his tongue meet yours, you felt the need to hold onto him, your hands gripping his shoulders harsher than you had intended. Feeling him smile into your kiss let your heart flutter erratically inside your chest, and you were certain that he had to hear the desperate thumps against your ribcage. 

You were eager to know if his heart felt the same way too, so you let your right hand glide down from his shoulder to his chest, resting it there to feel the beating of his heart. It seemed to match the elevated frequency of yours, only to get a little faster when you felt his hand descend from the nape of your neck. For a moment you thought he wanted to explore the curves of your body, and you would have welcomed that, but he wanted to feel you the same way you felt him in that moment. 

With his palm pressed against your chest right where your heart sat underneath the layers of fabric, skin and bones, you felt a connection to him that felt too pure to be put into words. The urge to let more oxygen float into your lungs overcame you, so you pulled back slightly and looked at the man before you. He wore the most beautiful smile you had ever seen and you decided you had not yet had enough of him. 

With little grace and interrupted by both of you giggling, you climbed over the center console of your car until Spencer caught you in his arms and guided you onto his lap. His lips were on yours in an instant, his kiss growing hungrier with every second passing. Your hands found their home in his hair, intertwining your fingers with his curls. 

His fingertips brushed over your sides before deciding to rest on your waist, twitching against your blouse as if he tried to hold back from letting them wander over your body. The sound of a whimper falling from his lips as you tugged lightly on his hair made you greedy for more. 

The rain was still falling heavily from the sky, adding some romance to a situation that was on the brink of turning more amorous. 

Just when you wanted to shift in his lap, curious to find out if he was equally excited as you were, the sound of a car starting the engine in the parking lot beside you startled you. You almost jumped at the interruption, breaking the kiss to look outside the window. The glass had fogged up in a way you had only ever seen in the movies and it made you laugh. 

With your finger pressed against the cool surface of the passenger seat window, you decided to draw a little heart on the steamed up glass. Spencer seemed unfazed from the car driving off from the spot beside you. He cupped your face with his palms to pull you closer once more. He placed a few little kisses on your lips before he let his nose playfully rub against yours. 

“I have thought about doing this for the longest time,” he cooed. 

“What exactly?” you snickered, “making out with me in a car like some horny teenagers?” 

Spencer breathed out a chuckle and clarified, “the setting was secondary.” He kissed you once more, mumbling against your lips, “but yes, I have thought about kissing you.” 

Pulling back to look at him, you let your fingertips wander over his cheeks, tracing his jawline. He looked at you with wonder in his eyes, your heart warming at the realization that all this pining these last few months had been mutual. 

“Yeah? I have thought about it, too. A lot, actually,” you confessed. 

You kissed some more before Spencer suggested, “Do you maybe want to take this to my apartment?” 

You pulled back and smirked at him, noticing the innocence in his voice despite the suggestiveness of his statement. 

“I mean, we don’t have to… do anything, I just… we could just hang out?” He muttered, his cheeks turning from rosy to a more crimson shade. 

“Yes, Spencer. I would love to hang out with you.”

Together you stumbled out of your car and into the hallway of the building, chasing each other as you ran up the stairs. You came to a halt leaning against the door of apartment 23, smirking at the man pressing his body against you. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips before he got his keys and opened the door. 

As soon as the door was closed again, Spencer had no time to waste. His mouth was on yours in an instant while his hands firmly gripped your waist, moving along with you through his apartment without ever breaking contact. He displayed an urgency in his actions you hadn’t expected from him, the obvious extent of his desire pressing firmly against your hip once you reached his bedside. 

Hastily you started to undo the buttons of his shirt, getting frustrated when it took longer than you liked. Spencer’s hands were quick to assist you, helping you rid him of his shirt before they flew to the hem of your blouse. Within moments both of you shed your clothes, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. 

You pushed Spencer down on the mattress, moving with him until he was laying on his back with you in his lap. Leaning down to continue your kiss, you started to rock your hips against the hardness straining his underwear, making him moan into your mouth. You felt his hands wander to your hips, taking a hold of them and burying his fingertips into supple skin. 

The friction you created between your legs let your panties dampen quickly and you couldn’t stop the sounds of your own pleasure from escaping your throat. His fingers started wandering over your upper body, dancing along your skin, leaving goosebumps on their path. He started fumbling with the clasp of your bra, making you smile when you noticed him struggling to open it. 

You removed the piece of clothing yourself, noticing the hunger in Spencer’s eyes when he glanced over your exposed chest. With his lips agape, he looked at you as if he had just witnessed a miracle. 

His eyes found yours again and he whispered, “You’re so beautiful.” 

“You can touch them, you know,” you snickered at his reaction. 

He didn’t need more encouragement, his warm palms were on your chest in a split second. Only touching you didn’t seem to be enough for him. With one hand on the mattress, he pushed himself up until his face met the soft curves of your breasts. With your hands on the back of his head you secured his position while continuing to grind against him. 

He started exploring your chest with open mouthed kisses, licking and sucking on every inch of skin he could reach. When he reached your hardened peaks, you moaned out his name and felt him twitch against your center. Before his ministrations got too much for you, you firmly pushed against his shoulders until he lay back down once more. 

Leaning down, you shared another kiss before you moved your lips over his jaw and throat, nipping on sensitive skin as you descended down his body. You kissed along the waistband of his underwear before you sat up beside his hips. Dragging your fingertips over his chest and down his stomach, you felt his muscles twitch underneath your touch. You trailed the line of hair from his navel downwards before you hooked your fingers into the fabric to remove it. 

The wonder in your eyes couldn’t have been that much different from the one you saw in Spencer’s look earlier. You were hesitant to touch him where he was clearly aching to feel you. Glancing over his exposed body lying in front of you, you couldn’t help but take a moment to fully indulge in the sight of his beauty. He didn’t say anything, instead he patiently watched you as you took your time looking at him. When you locked eyes with him again, you found him smiling at you. 

“I’m sorry,” you giggled as you motioned down his body, “I got distracted.” 

Instead of teasing you for the obvious display of your attraction towards him, he opened his arms and cooed, “Come here.” 

Laying down beside him, he gently kissed you while brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“We can slow down if you want. Nothing has to happen tonight,” he reassured you. 

“Oh, but I would really like for something to happen tonight. Don’t you?”

A sneaky hand found its way down his body to wrap around the base of his hardness. His eyes widened and pupils dilated at the sudden contact, a whine falling from his lips. 

“Is that a yes?” You purred. 

“Yes,” he groaned and you started to stroke him. “Fuck, yes.”

You shifted your position again until your face was hovering over his erection. As you placed tender kisses along velvety skin, Spencer threw his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes. Your tongue glided over his tip before you closed your mouth around him. The sound of his moans filled the room and started clouding your mind. 

You got greedy for more, eager to see him fall apart just for you to put back together again. 

He throbbed against your tongue as you moved your mouth over him. Pressing your own thighs together, you felt yourself getting needy for some attention. Your eyes were fixated on his face, taking in every twitch of his lips and furrowing of his brows. Suddenly he opened his eyes, looking down at you with rosy cheeks and dark eyes. 

“Y/N, fuck!”

You would have been more than happy to let him fall over the edge like that, but he seemed to have other things in mind. Before he got too close to his breaking point, Spencer’s hand flew to your hair, grabbing a fistful of it to pull you off him. With his thumb he wiped the saliva off your chin. 

“I need to be closer to you,” Spencer purred while motioning for you to lay back down beside him. 

As he started to kiss you, his fingertips brushed over the curves and dips of your body until they found their destination between your legs. He pushed the soaked fabric of your panties aside to let his fingers glide through your folds. Just when he started to press against your most sensitive spot, you felt the need to touch him again as well. Your hand found his length, teasing him a bit before wrapping your fingers around him to move them up and down slowly. 

“More,” you mumbled, “I need more.”

Spencer understood, letting two of his fingers enter your aching core. You couldn’t help but start to rock against his hand as he pushed into you, bringing you closer to your own ecstasy. However, it still wasn’t enough. 

“Spencer, please!”

He pulled his face back slightly to look at you. You stared back at him with half-lidded eyes, heated cheeks and panting lips. 

“What do you need?” He groaned without ever stopping the rhythmic motion of his hand between your thighs. 

You couldn’t answer him, already too far lost in the pleasure. He watched you for a moment, before he spoke again. 

“Answer me.”

Your eyes shot open, realizing you had never heard him talk to you in that tone. His voice was harsh and demanding and it excited you. 

Not answering him was not an option this time, so you finally sighed, “Fuck me, please.” 

Spencer smirked at you once he heard your words, pleased that you said what he apparently wanted to hear. When he removed his hand from your center you whined in protest. 

With his smug grin he looked at you and chuckled, “I know. Just a second.”

Reaching over to his nightstand, he took out a condom from the drawer and put it on in one swift motion before positioning himself between your legs and pulling down your panties. He ran the tip of his cock through your folds, teasing you until you started whimpering. At this point you were burning for his touch, feeling needy for him to finally grant you relief. 

“It’s okay. I got you,” he cooed as he sunk into you. 

Swinging your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, you brought him impossibly close, not allowing any distance between your bodies. Your walls began to flutter around his length once he started moving. With slow and deep thrusts he pushed into you, making your whole body quiver in pleasure. 

Tender lips found each other for an urgent kiss, yearning to let your bodies melt into one another in every way possible. Even with his weight on top of you, being with Spencer still felt like it could make you float, clouding your mind as you chased your relief together with him. 

“Fuck,” he panted, “you feel so good!” 

You answered him with a moan and your hips joining his movements in perfect synchronicity. The tension in your body became almost unbearable and begged to be released. 

“Harder,” you whined. 

His pace became relentless as he was keen on pleasing you. He hovered over you, your eyes locked with his while you felt like you might actually fall apart from this sensation. Before it became too much, you decided to close your eyes. 

Spencer’s hand found the side of your face, gently brushing over it as he slowed down his movements and whispered, “Look at me.” 

Your eyes found his again, radiating warmth and yearning but even more than that, lust. He accelerated his pace once more.

“Just like that. I want you to look at me when you come on my cock.”

The crudeness of his words sent a shock through your body, making you clench your walls around him. You tried your best to keep your eyes open, looking at him and noticing his face scrunching up more and more as he came closer to his own undoing. With one particular forceful thrust he sent you over the brink without ever averting his eyes from you. 

“That’s it. You’re doing so good,” he praised you as he felt your core pulsating. 

He helped you through your high before allowing himself to fully indulge in the sensation of finally having you after all those months of longing and pining. While you tried to catch your breath, Spencer’s movements became erratic as he chased his own high. You pulled him closer to let him bury his face into the crook of your neck just moments before he started to quiver as he released any remaining tension. 

You still had your legs and arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly against your body while feeling his hot breath on your neck. He smiled into your skin when you started to let your fingertips dance over his back in soothing patterns. 

Although the longing to have him as close as possible was still not quite soothed, it was inevitable for you to move at last. After you cleaned up, you started to get dressed again while Spencer was still in the bathroom. Although you secretly hoped that this was not a one-time-thing, you had enough experience with hook-ups to know when it was time for you to go. 

Spencer came back into the bedroom just when you pulled up your pants. 

“What are you doing?” 

Looking at him, you noticed the corners of his mouth dropping. His beautiful smile had suddenly turned into a frown, so you explained, “It’s getting really late and I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” 

He stepped closer to you, tenderly taking a hold of your wrists before you could pick up your blouse from the floor. He took a deep breath and pleaded, “Please don’t leave.” 

“You want me to stay?”

“Yes,” he reassured you, “Yes, of course I want that. Don’t go, please.” 

You swung your arms around his shoulders to pull him into a hug, having him place his hands on your back to push you into his body firmly. It warmed your heart to be wanted, to be needed to stay here. 

“Okay,” you mumbled against the bare skin of his shoulder, “I’ll stay.”

Spencer got you your go-bag from your car so you could get ready for the night. Never had you imagined that driving him home after work would lead you directly into his arms. You found your place inside his embrace in the bed, nuzzling your face against the washed-out fabric of his shirt as you breathed in his scent. You had always felt safe when you were with him but it couldn’t compare to the sense of security you felt in that moment. 

Being close to him as he dozed off felt like finally coming home after being on the road for months. 

You felt how his chest rose steadily, his breathing evening out, and you smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes. It took you longer than usual to find sleep since your heart threatened to jump out of your chest at the realization of what had happened tonight. When you finally felt your limbs getting heavy as the harbingers of sleep crept closer, you could only hope that you’d find yourself tangled up with Spencer in your dreams as well. 

Several hours later your body noticed that the morning sun had made its way into the bedroom, letting you slowly wake from your slumber. When your eyes fluttered open, you found Spencer already awake, looking at you with a soft smile. His hair was dishevelled and his eyelids were still heavy with sleep but he looked oh so cute. 

“Good morning,” he greeted you with a raspy voice. 

“G’morning,” you yawned, “did you watch me sleep?”

“Maybe? Is that weird?”

You closed the gap between your bodies to press yourself against him. You placed your lips on his jaw, tracing the stubbles on his skin until you found his ear. 

“No, it’s adorable,” you whispered before playfully nipping on his earlobe. 

You left a trail of kisses down his neck while a curious hand made its way under his shirt, letting your palm brush over his side. Spencer started to stir, slowly moving away from you. 

“Let me just brush my teeth real quick,” he said as he rolled off the bed. 

He disappeared in the bathroom before you could tell him that you didn’t think that was necessary. Leaving the door open a crack, you heard him turning on the faucet of the sink. You decided to follow him and tentatively knocked on the door before he opened it with his toothbrush already in his mouth. 

“I don’t want to waste any more time before we have to go to work,” you explained while entering the bathroom and taking your own toothbrush from where you had left it the night before. 

You looked at the both of you through the reflection of the mirror above the sink, standing side by side while brushing your teeth. You couldn’t help but smile at the domesticity of the situation. After Spencer was done, you leaned over the sink yourself to clean up, almost jumping when you felt his hands make contact with the curve of your backside. He squeezed your flesh slightly before letting his palms glide to your waist, guiding you to stand up straight. 

He stood behind you, pressing his body into your back while he leaned down to kiss down your neck. His hands snuck under your shirt to find your breasts, letting his thumbs brush over your nipples until they hardened. You leaned into his touch while looking into the mirror to find his eyes. The growing bulge in his pajama pants pressed firmly against your ass, making you moan in anticipation. 

“What are you doing,” you giggled. 

“You said you had no time to waste,” he said before he kissed the side of your face and whispered against your skin, “so I thought I’d start right away.”

You motioned for Spencer to retract his hands so you could step away from him. While opening the bathroom door, you suggested, “Let’s continue this in bed.” 

“ – Please don’t!” A wide-eyed Penelope was staring at you from the other side of the door. 

You felt your heart stopping for a moment when you saw the unexpected guest standing in Spencer’s bedroom. The man behind you gasped at the sight of the intruder, any lewd thoughts quickly replaced by confusion. 

“Thank god you’re dressed! I thought this was going to be even more awkward,” the woman in front of you chirped. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Spencer sounded more than annoyed at the interruption of your actions. 

“I’m sorry to just come in here like that, but the workday started early today. We have a case.” Penelope explained. “Also, boy wonder, who taught you such a naughty word?” She added in a scolding but playful voice. 

“You could have just called,” Spencer said as he took his phone from his nightstand only to find it dead. “Oh. I forgot to charge it.” 

You looked around the room, trying to remember where your phone was until it hit you that you must have left it in your car. 

“Yeah I imagine you must have been pretty preoccupied last night,” Penelope teased while letting her eyes wander over the scattered pieces of clothing on the floor. “Y/N didn’t answer either, so Derek went to her apartment and I came here. I think your doorbell is broken by the way, so I had to let myself in with the spare key.”

“That makes sense,” you concluded, still overwhelmed with the situation. 

Spencer rubbed his hands over his face, aware that any plea for Penelope to keep this to herself would be futile. 

“Come on, get ready. We have a life to save!” She said as she stepped out of the bedroom. “Chop chop, lovebirds!”

Spencer walked to his closet while you got something to wear out of your bag.

Before you entered the bathroom, you turned your head to Spencer and said, “So, knowing Garcia… It’s probably safe to assume that everyone will already know about this once we board the jet?” 

“Yup.” He paused for a moment and added, “How do you feel about that?”

You thought about it for a second and told him, “I’m okay with it, actually.”

From the living room you heard the familiar voice of your coworker as she answered the ringing of her phone, “Derek, you are not gonna believe this!”

Both of you started laughing at the sound of Penelope gossiping. Spencer then smiled at you and said, “Yeah? I’m okay with that, too.” 

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Semantic Error | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter 3

Based off of Semantic Error (bl) by J Soori Summary: y/n meets Jimin and makes Jungkook jealous Pairing: Techie inexperienced fem!reader x Artist fuck boy Jungkook Word count: 2.7k~ Warnings: Explicit language, Idk that's pretty much it for this chapter. A/N: This is heavily based off of the original bl (boy love) Semantic Error and it covers chapters (episodes) 4,5 and 29. I've switched around the timeline quite a bit and got rid of some scenes here and there to make the story progress a bit faster so they're not exactly alike but I would like to stick close to the original story so let me know what you think! P.s. If you don't mind spoilers I would highly suggest reading the original story. I read it on the app Manta with the english adaptation being done by Angy and you can also find the Kdrama on Viki :) Read from the beginning

The next day as I'm walking to the cafeteria I see a guy fall dropping some books and papers all over the floor. I decide to walk past because honestly it's not my problem but unfortunately once I'm in his line of sight he decides to call out to me. "Hey sorry do you think you could help me pick this stuff up? I shouldn't have tried to balance all of it on top of each other" he says clearly regretting his actions. I start picking things up quietly, not making an effort to make conversation and once we're finished I decide to turn and go. 

"Wait! What's your name?" he asks preventing me from leaving. "y/n" I state and wait for him to continue on with whatever he had planned to say. "Well y/n would you mind helping me carry this stuff over to the music building? I'm just worried I might drop it all again" he says taking all of the heavy books and hoping that I'll pick up the folders full of sheet music. I stand there for a second trying to calculate the time it would take me to help him out and if I can fit it into my schedule. 

"If you help me, I'll buy you lunch" he says with a bright almost perfect smile aside from his cooked front tooth. Thinking about it now with that incentive clearly tips the scale, providing him with a favorable result. I wordlessly pick up the things he couldn't manage to carry and wait for him to lead the way. "You don't talk much do you?" he chuckles giving me a sideways glance. "Not unless it's necessary" I say and continue to follow hoping I'll get this over with so I can get back on schedule.

"So...what's your major?" he says obviously trying to maintain a conversation with me. "Computer Engineering" I answer giving his as short of answers as possible. I'm not one for casual conversation, let alone conversation at all. Like I said, only when necessary. "I'm Jimin by the way, and if you couldn't guess already my major is music. Well, music and dance but my course load this semester is very music centric" I nod my head and he decides to keep rambling which seems to be something he's used to doing.

From the casual glances we're getting it seems like he's pretty well known in this department. "Hey Jimin you down to go grab some lunch in a sec?" a guy in a big group of people yells out. "Nah that's okay, I promised to buy y/n lunch for helping me out" he says motioning to me as best as he can with his hands full. "Oh...okay well have fun" the guy says and goes back to one of the many conversations going on over there. 

I turn my head and look back up at Jimin confused, "You could've just given me enough for the cafeteria and have gone with them" I say hoping to brush him off and go back to my solitude. "I'm not gonna buy you food from the cafeteria silly, let's go somewhere! There's a cool pizza place right outside of campus that I've been wanting to check out. You wanna go?" he asks asks and nods towards the classroom that we're meant to leave these things at. "I guess" I shrug not really caring at this point. Since my class doesn't start for another two hours I guess I could afford to go off campus to eat for a change, especially since it's free. 

As we make our way into the pizza place (creatively named Pizza Planet) we're greeted by a pretty big crowd but luckily we're able to find a table near the entrance right away. "Welcome in" someone yells letting us know they saw us come in and they'll be with us in a moment. "This place is pretty cool huh? He says referring to the theme that seems to be trendy these days. "Spaceships, nice" I say barely looking up while scanning the QR code to get the menu.

"Have you never watched the movie Toy Story?" he says, surprised that I don't have a better reaction to it. "No I'm not big on American movies or whatever. My family really only showed us media that was Korean or Japanese" I say hoping to show that I'm not interested on elaborating on the topic any further and luckily before he can say anything again our server comes to our table. 

"Welcome to Pizza Planet guys, what can I get you?" he says with a bright smile until his glance falls on me. For some reason his expression changes to that of annoyance and I'm slightly confused but not enough to comment on it. "Do you know what you want y/n?" Jimin asks me and I take a quick glance over the menu and settle on the most expensive item. It's a free meal so might as well milk it for all it's worth.

Jimin places his order and the server looks back down at me and asks if we wanted anything else to which Jimin denies. "You guys do student discounts though right?" he asks holding out his card and the server takes his eyes off of me to inspect his student ID and confirms his suspicions. 

Once he hands him back his student ID the server's gaze for some reason falls back on me. "Do you need to see my ID too?" I question suddenly weirded out by his glaring. "No" he says full of spite, pushing up the bridge of his glasses. "Okay well then you can go now, don't you have other people to serve?" I say shooing him off, to which he looks down at me with utter confusion and opts to just turn away to go put in our order instead of making an further discussion. 

"Are you okay?" Jimin asks, clearly aware of the weird tension between the server and I. "Yeah I'm fine, he was just acting really weird" I say and shake it off for the time being. "Do you know him?" he asks tilting his head at me. "Why would I know a random guy in a pizza place?" I say confused as to how this all connects in his head. "Well because he goes to school with us, I believe his name is Jungkook, I had a class with him last semester and he seemed like a cool guy or so I thought. Are you guys okay?" he asks clearly concerned, seeing my face contort into an uncomfortable realization when I finally put the pieces together. 

I guess I didn't recognize him because he was dressed so differently while sporting a hat and glasses. Looks like he clearly recognized me though, and he definitely wasn't happy to see me. I watch as Jungkook makes his way out of the shop as another server comes to relieve him. "Would you mind it if I went outside to go talk to him for a second?" I ask already standing up not really caring to wait for his permission. "Oh um yeah okay, I guess I'll just stay here" he says awkwardly while watching me walk out before I'm finally out of his view. 

Looking around I notice that there's a small alleyway between this pizza place and the next building over and I can see a puff of smoke coming out of it as well as hear someone's voice sounding like some sort of argument. I walk over and thankfully it's the exact person I've been looking for. "Hey can you get off the phone?" I say and he looks up glaring at me and he stops leaves a pause in the conversation happening before he tells the person on the phone that he has to go. "What do you want?" he says before taking a drag off of his cigarette. 

"We need to talk" I say seeing if he's open to it. "So talk" he says and purposefully blows smoke in my direction which leaves me having to wave away the smoke and clear my throat before I'm able to start. "I owe you an apology" I start off, "No shit you do" he mumbles under his breath. "Are you gonna let me talk or should I just go back inside?" I say getting short with him. "Yeah go back to your boyfriend, see if I care" he spits out and throws his cigarette on the floor to stomp it out before pushing himself up off the wall and making moves to walk off.

"He's not my boyfriend, in fact not that it's any of your business but we just met today and the only reason I'm here is because he offered me a free meal for helping him carry some stuff across campus" I say in one breath and open my mouth to continue "That doesn't sound like you" he interrupts laughing bitterly at my story. "Well it's the truth and you can ask him yourself if you really don't believe me" I say crossing my arm, becoming aware that this has now become my defensive stance of choice against him.

"No that's fine I believe you, I just find it adorable that you could be so food motivated. Helping out a perfectly good stranger and then making a trip with him off campus. That wasn't very smart of you y/n" he says taunting me. "Just because you're older than me doesn't mean that you get to talk down to me" I say getting even more irritated at this situation. "That's funny that you say that" he says getting closer until he's sure to tower over me, "because it looks like I have to love" he says trying to get some sort of reaction out of me. 

I'm not sure exactly what it could be I decide to take a step back but as I do I find myself slipping on something and I mentally brace for impact but it never comes, now seeming to notice a firm grasp on my waist instead of my back on the cold hard street. "Be careful there y/n, we wouldn't want to have an accident on our hands" he says amused at our forced proximity and my facial expressions because of it. I get back up on my feet and push him away after I've sure I regained my balance. "I apologized okay? Now stop being so hostile, it's annoying" I say while straightening out my clothes. "But I like seeing the faces you make when I'm annoying you" he says with a smirk. 

"What faces? I don't make any faces" I deny. "Why don't you go look in the mirror pretty, I'm sure you'll see why I like it so much" he says before walking past me. "Hey where are you going? Aren't you going to apologize too?" I call after him before he gets too far. "Sorry love, I've gotta go back to work, why don't we pick this up later?" he says sending me a wink before opening the door and walking inside. "But I don't want there to be a later" I say under my breath kicking the rocks that I had no doubt slipped on just moments ago. I shake myself out of whatever headspace he had me in and take a deep breath trying to calm myself down. 

I've never had a rush of so many emotions running through me before, and the only other times it has gotten close to this it seems like Jungkook has been the one to triggered them. I groan and make my way back inside as well and I sit back down at the table not making an effort to say a word to Jimin. "So how did it go? It seemed like he was pretty happy when he walked in" he says intrigued by our polar opposite returns with me being the one who looks upset now. "He's happy because he was able to irritate me and get a reaction out of me. Ugh I should've never went out there" I groan and take a drink of my water.

"Why did you end up going out there?" he questions, clearly interested in the story behind our weird behaviors. "I said some things that were probably interpreted as being mean, I'm not the kind of person who cares much about others but I'm adult enough to admit that what I said was out of line" I say rolling my eye irritated that I let him get the best of me time and time again, but for some reason I end up being the bad guy.

"I swear this man is going to put me in an early grave" I say and then speak of the devil Jungkook shows up with our order. "That's not very nice, are you already trying to be mean to me again" he pouts jokingly. "No but you are being rather rude listening in on people's conversations" I roll my eyes and go back to taking a drink of water. "It's not my fault that you're talking about me right in front of me. Anyways is there anything else I can get you guys?" he asks looking between the two of us.

"No I think we're all set" Jimin responds sending me a smile which I return with a nod. "What about you pretty? Do you need anything else from me?" Jungkook says leaning towards me and tucking my hair behind my ear to see my face better. To which I respond to by choking on my water while also spilling some on the table. "Shit y/n are you okay?" Jimin asks clearly concerned for my welfare. I cough a few times and send him a thumbs up trying to calm my coughs down. "I'll go get you guys some napkins" Jungkook chuckles walking off. 

"Man I swear guys like him think they can get away with anything just because they're more attractive than the average male" he says rolling his eyes at him and handing his napkins over to me. "Thanks" I say and clean up as best as I could while we wait for the rest of the napkins. "It's fine I'm over it" I say clearing my throat hopefully for the last time right as Jungkook returns with more napkins.

"Sorry guys I was just teasing, your meal's on me this time okay?" he says giving us both a charming smile. "You sure?" Jimin asks looking surprised as ever. "Yeah it's the least I could do for interrupting you guys and making y/n upset" he says but I can tell he's still teasing me even though he's behaving in front of Jimin. 

"Thank you so much" Jimin says giving him a thankful shallow bow. "It's fine don't mention it, also you can call me Hyung if you want to, I don't mind" Jungkook offers, clearly trying to get on Jimin's good side. This whole act he's putting on is ridiculous, I haven't known him for long but I can sure as hell tell when people are lying. "Okay, thank you Jungkook hyung" he says and smiles back at me. "You can call me Oppa if you want to y/n" he says offering it to me as well, waiting for me to take the bait. 

"Jungkook is just fine for me, I'll call you JK if you want me to, but that's it" I say not bothering to show any sort of respect and grace to the person who just bought my meal which is probably cold by now. "Aw come on just once?" he says mercilessly taunting me still. "Don't you ever get tired of being a pain in the ass?" I say finally fed up with all of his antics "Nope" he says popping the P at the end before leaning down to whisper in my ear "You look cute when you're feisty" he says making sure to blow on my neck again making me shiver slightly. 

I stand up abruptly and he straightens his posture and takes a step back giving me the tiniest bit of room to pass by. "Jimin I'm leaving if you want I'll wait for you outside so we can take the food back to campus" I say and make moves to leave as quickly as I can, not missing the way Jungkook chuckles at me on the way out. "Um yeah I'll be out in a second. Hyung do you think you could box this up for us?" he asks using the new term he had been encouraged to use. "Sure, see you around y/n" he says making sure I hear it before the door closes behind me.  

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#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #park jimin #jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin fanfiction #bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #kpop #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #angst #semantic error #bts jimin #love triangle

[carefulfears]

The way Scully puts her fingers to her mouth when Mulder is rambling about his mom’s message and she has to tell him she killed herself are u kidding me !!&!!’@:’!!! It’s DESTROYING her to tell him 😭😭😭😭 I love that she stayed the night and didn’t even change clothes, even when Skinner came her first thought is always to protect Mulder 😢

(x) she literally just has to sit there and listen to him and know that she’s going to have to stay steady and tear his whole world down. break his heart. take away his only sense of hope and method of coping in a lifetime of loss and neglect and abuse. you can watch it break her, on her face, in her voice.

this is the dirty work of “you were my friend and you told me the truth.” scully loves so bravely.

and she doesn’t know if he’ll be okay. she doesn’t know what this will do to him. she doesn't know what this will do to their life, to her life. but she gives him truth anyway, because that’s how they love. because that’s what he needs, it’s what he’s been denied for so long.

it’s easy to forget sometimes as an audience, how precarious and unsteady mulder is. the show reminds us. it shows us a weepy prayer in the church of a god he does not believe in, in conduit. it shows us shaking hands clawing through dirt and tattered fabric, in paper hearts. it shows us a finger on a trigger, in demons. but scully doesn't forget. scully knows, through every bad joke and wacky theory, what they're really doing, what's at the root of it all.

after seven years, she walks into his dark apartment. she does not try to turn on a light, as she had earlier in the episode. she sits down. she listens. she calmly relays clear facts, all of the information that she has. she gets down on the floor and cries. there's something so primal about it, a complete desperation and lack of pretense. he's spent his whole life both left completely alone in loss, and trying desperately to avoid it, and everything that he has held onto is breaking down around him in this moment. she's falling down into the wreckage next to him, mourning with him, holding onto him tight.

this is what allows for his growth in closure, this is what made it the end of the road.

to me, there are few moments that encapsulate scully's character more than this morning after scene, possibly my favorite sequence of the series.

she's so exhausted, when skinner knocks on the door. she's still wearing her work clothes from the day before. when he asks, "how's he doing?" and she answers, "it's been a hard night for him," her voice is so defeated. she was up all night.

(how different things would be, if there had been just one person, 27 years ago)

when skinner starts to talk about work, scully tries to tell him "no," that it's not a good time, before mulder comes up behind her. as skinner tells mulder that he needs him to go back with him on the case, and he's booked them two flights, scully doesn't move from her spot in front of him. she's blocking him in. you're not getting past her, and she's not moving. (and you're not taking him anywhere without her, as she looks at skinner and tells him he "better book three.")

to bring it back to throat, eye and knucklebone (as i referenced in my previous post):

"She’s been itching to get him locked up in a moving vehicle for days. Rocketing down a highway with her at the helm, where she gets to steer and decide what touches them. For long hours on his couch that night, autopsy hands on his head, in his hair, she’d thought about what it would mean to hide him away. Thought about what it would mean to steal and stash him like fairy treasure, to draw protective rings."

i always think of this passage when it comes to scully's character, there's so much conflict in her desire to protect and guide. in the doorway with skinner, they're standing on the precipice in-between the real world and the safety of his living room floor, where she could cover him.

but ultimately, they have to cross the threshold. she can go with him, but she can't keep him inside (as she will eventually learn through trial and failure).

there's so much grief, in being starbuck. there's so much grief, in the end, in loving someone that you can only follow, you can't steer.

#asks #sein und zeit

[unlikely-gravestones]

Ok so lets talk about that one scene in The Sound of Her wings, when Hob and Dream meetup in 1789. Specifically, when Johanna Constantine orders her men to slit the throats of Hob and Dream. I was inspired directly after seeing @avelera​ ‘s post (here) and watching the scene again to fact check myself as i screamed in the tags. (Before i even get to the fight, can we take a moment to appreciate when Hob looks at the drawing done of them in 1689 and goes “Is that meant to be me?...Oh i look terrible...” and then tips his head to Dream and says “You look worse :)”. I loved that he joked with him, that he fully went “i look horrible- ur worse tho hehe” and you KNOW he’s saying it in jest. Wonderful.) Its the way Hob attacked the man going after Dream first. He threw his tea at the man in front of his friend, first and foremost stalling His Stranger’s attacker, and then smashed the teacup over the guy in front of him and smacked him in to the table. Dream doesn’t even move- not that i imagine one such as he would need to fear any mortal wound from a human, but Hob doesn’t know this. Hob doesn’t know who or what Dream is, he doesn’t even know his name, so Hob defends- he attacks first, attacks for him. The fight literally goes: Hob throws tea at Dream’s attacker >> Hob smashes teacup on his own attacker and knocks him out against the table >> Hob smacks Dream’s attacker upside the head when the man tries to stab his friend. Morpheus doesn’t move at all, and he doesn’t need to. Not until Johanna has a knife pointed at Hob’s face. And as you can see here:

Hob is 100% ready to get stabbed in the face. He’s immortal, it’ll heal. It won’t be fun, but it won’t stop him from eliminating the threat. Its only then that Dream intervenes, says “Wait,” and stands up to incapacitate Johanna with his sand. Dream would know as well as Hob that no mortal wound could kill him, yet the idea of Hob being injured is unpleasant nonetheless. This idea is later reinforced when Dream says that Hob might not be able to die, but he can be captured and hurt- foreshadowing, for sure, but it also tells us a bit about what Dream thinks of. Before he says that to Hob, however, there is the Scene of the Hour; the ear pull. After Dream so tenderly says “You need not have come to my defence...”, Hob responds with a delighted “Clearly...Still, i didn’t want to be drinking alone here in 100 years time.” (this line also supports the fact that Hob has no idea who Dream is or what he’s capable of, thus defending him seems the obvious choice) And what does Hob do as he says this?

The ear pull. My man fully played with his ear with THAT expression. If his hair was untied, i bet you $100 he would have been twirling it around his damn finger. And what was this met with?

Dream looking at him like this. This about concludes my ramble but by god was there so much to unpack here. I urge you to go back and re-watch this ep (as if anyone needs any convincing to re-watch this show) and just really drink in the details.

#Hobs kicking his feet and giggling as we speak #that man went home and screamed into a pillow #oh and i didnt even mention the look they gave eachother #when Johanna called them the devil and the wandering jew #the way dream looked with disdain for the title over at hob #and hob looked back at him like #are you getting a load of this mate #i love them #they're in love your honor #they're idiots but in love #the sandman netflix #the sandman #Dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling

[haeseolar]

the gaze of the angels

guild hunter au - kinnporsche / archangel!kinn, hunter!porsche

rated G, 2.7k words

twitter

based on a scene from the first book in the guild hunter series, angels' blood. for context, angel's create and handle vampires as they work under them. porsche as a hunter tracks any unruly vamp who has escaped and brings them back to their 'owners', in this case, the arch/angels.

----

“Give me one good reason I should be talking to you on my day off.”

“Well, hello to you too, Porsche,” Arm, the director of the Hunter’s Guild, says, his voice no less sarcastic even through the phone line.

Porsche snorts, kicking off his boots into a heap by his front door. He’ll fix that later; right now, he has one thing on his mind: to relax.

“I’m waiting,” Porsche replies, clicking his tongue in annoyance. He’d never hang up on his best friend-cum-boss, but the temptation grows as he wanders into his apartment - his haven, his sanctuary - and feels in his gut that whatever Arm is about to tell him won’t be anything good.

“Well,” Arm begins and then goes so quiet Porsche has to check to make sure they’re still connected. “Your holiday is being cut sh-"

“No fucking way!” Porsche cuts him off, coming to stand in the middle of his kitchen.

The marble top island is more cluttered than he’d like it to be, but he’s been nonstop working for the past 3 weeks on one of the hardest hunts of his life. A rogue vampire had gone insane, slaughtering more people than he could count on his fingers. Despite being a crazy lunatic, the bastard had been smart, and led Porsche on a wild chase until he finally caught up and sent him back to his angel owner for her to deal with. He’d barely had time to sleep, let alone clean.

“Porsche,” Arm’s voice is hard - stoic and with no room to argue, taking the tone that the director of the Guild should have. This wasn’t a friendly chat - this was a business one through and through. “You’ve been requested.”

Porsche scoffs, “That’s nice, but -”

“By an archangel.”

Porsche feels his whole world go quiet. “It’s not April Fool’s Day, Arm,” He says shakily.

“I know, and I’d never joke about this, but…” Arm sighs, and it’s a frustrated one. “We’re between a rock and a hard place. I tried to deny his request and said you’re off duty for the foreseeable future, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Fucking archangels, Porsche thought, the voice inside his head spiteful. He’d never be able to say it out loud without dire consequences, but in the privacy of his own brain, he’ll curse them out as much as he wants. They’re selfish creatures, living in their high-rises to look down upon all mortals, ruling over the cities they claim as their own without a care in the world. As long as they’re happy, nothing else matters.

“What does he want?”

“They wouldn’t say. His lackeys who called up were very secretive, even with me,” Arm grumbles something under his breath with the same amount of disdain Porsche feels. The archangels are famously hard to work with. “I’m really sorry, and I will do all I can to make this up to you - but you have to meet him tomorrow.”

“Which one?” Porsche asks, mind going a hundred miles an hour. He went through all the ones he knew - the ones he’d already worked for. He’s had to clean up more of their messes than he can count, but of course, they do nothing but deposit a grand sum of money in his bank account and go about their day without even a simple thanks.

“Archangel Anakinn.”

The name cut off all of Porsche’s internal ramblings. That name had fear instilled into it, each letter dripping with the promise of death if you defied him. The archangel of Bangkok wasn’t exactly known for his niceties; even Porsche, who had fought rogue vampires twisted with bloodlust beyond any form of rationality, who stood up against anyone or anything not caring about the consequences, starts to feel anxiety creeping in.

“Fuck me,” Porsche let out, leaning against the counter to keep him up. His knees felt weak. “Let me guess, I’ve gotta go on my own, too?”

He could feel the wince through the phone as Arm answered, “Yep.”

Double fuck, Porsche curses. “Ping me the time and location.”

“Porsche -” Arm began, but Porsche hung up before he could finish, not in the mood to talk anymore.

He glances around his apartment, at the warm woods and white accents, at the trinkets and paintings spread around that he’d collected in his travels, and breathes in the scent of incense to try and ground himself. There’s no use in avoiding the inevitable, so he looks outside his window at the hotel situated opposite his apartment building. It towers above him, each window lit with shadows of activity behind them. It’s a building that never sleeps, with all sorts of goings on happening in the secrecy only immortals had the pleasure of knowing.

Porsche’s phone pinged with the details of his meeting for tomorrow.

Director Arm:

Tomorrow, Theerapanyakul’s Hotel, 09:00 am sharp.

Memorising the information immediately, Porsche knows that if he takes a few steps forward, he’ll be able to see the rooftop of the hotel - the Theerapanyakul’s Hotel. It doesn’t have any railing or safety bordering it, as there would be no point. It’s a landing and takeoff point for angels, and they could fly, their giant wings sprawling outwards so wide that even to this day, Porsche finds himself pausing whatever he was doing to stop and watch. He’d spent countless hours since he’d moved into this apartment spying on them, watching them come and go, equally fascinated as he was repulsed by their royalty in society.

Each angel had their own set of wings, and no two were the same. One pair had caught his attention the most out of all he’d seen, and he’d seen plenty at this point. Porsche recalls ones that were so wide that they had almost blocked out the entire sky, so dark in colour that it seemed as if a black hole had opened up in their place, if not for the red tips of the feathers that were visible even from so far away. Porsche has never met Archangel Anakinn - but he knows him. He’s seen him, watched him, studied him the best he could from afar as he admired each descent and take-off from flight, the beauty of his wings too tempting to look away from even for a second.

Porsche walks forward, eyes rising upwards until he can finally see the rooftop, hoping to catch a glimpse of them. To his dismay, the rooftop is empty, so instead he imagines what it’ll be like when he is up there tomorrow, and if he’d survive the meeting long enough to continue admiring the view of the angels he so frequently indulged in

-----

“Alright, alright! I get it, no need to push,” Porsche says, wrenching his shoulder away from a heavy-handed vampire. 

The impudent thing just glares at him, his fangs poking out, just begging for the hunter to act up within the hotel. Everyone knows that you behave when in a general radius of an archangel, let alone when you’re in one’s territory. The vampire looks young, but the smell radiating off of him could only mean age - and Porsche doesn’t mean a few years, but hundreds. He looks overly serious, with his perfect ponytail and miserable atmosphere, which only makes Porsche want to prod at him even more to see if he can get a reaction out of him instead.

“Get in.” The vampire orders, shoving Porsche into an open elevator. 

“Does your boss not teach you any manners?” Porsche mutters under his breath, nose scrunching up in distaste at the vampire’s scent now clinging to him. 

Each one smells different, much like each angel’s wings - it’s part of their DNA, their defining feature. This one smells sour, his scent warped with internal rage and something sad, almost as if he’s left it so long that it’s gone off, twisted and rotten. It’s clear that he hates Porsche, so much so that it’s leaking out of every pore.

“What did you say, guild hunter?” The vampire snaps, eyes narrowed in malice.

“I said, did your boss not teach you any manners?” Porsche repeats, enunciating each word clearly, not caring about the consequences. 

“Why, you -” The vampire begins through gritted teeth until the elevator doors open and let in a gust of wind so strong it threatens to knock him off balance.

Porsche blinks, his eyes drying out immediately as he takes in the scene before him. He hadn’t even noticed they’d made it to the top, caught up in the brewing fight. The vampire grabs his arm, dragging him out and practically throwing him forward. Porsche’s senses are all going off, each one struggling to acclimate to a slew of incoming smells, sounds, and feelings. 

“Khun Kinn, he’s arrived.”

“Thank you, Big. You may go,” A voice replies, so smooth and luxurious that Porsche’s stomach clenches. 

He watches as the vampire - or Big, he supposes - bows and takes his leave, looking like nothing more than a trained puppy in front of his master. Porsche holds back the urge to sneer, but he reigns it in.

 

Even though he’s completely open out here, the wind is strong and loud, it’s warmer than he expected, the sun shining directly into his eyes. He squints, trying to gather his bearings as he looks out across the expanse of the roof, focusing on a shadowy figure at the opposite end. Even without fully seeing him - Porsche knows who it is. 

Archangel Anakinn.

There’s no doubt in his mind, no second guesses, as his mere aura alone is enough to suffice. The great span of his wings flutters, rising and blocking out the harsh glare of the sun, bringing everything back into focus. Porsche blinks, black spots dotting around his vision as he adjusts until he can finally see who he is truly facing.

His breath catches in his throat, eyes widening without his permission as he takes in the archangel. Anakinn’s hair is perfectly styled, not a hair out of place except the purposely left-out strand that catches on his eyelashes, even with the harsh winds that are whipping Porsche’s clothing and hair around relentlessly. It’s as if the earth has stopped moving, stopped existing, covering Anakinn in an eternal peace where he’s untouchable. Porsche’s eyes carry on moving, desperate and wanting to take the man in. They follow his masculine brow bone and down the gentle slope of his nose, cataloguing each mole and curve, straight angle and harsh cut of his jawline. 

Even hidden, Porsche can sense the sheer amount of strength hidden within his body. It’s not all physical, although he doesn’t doubt that he is just as strong in that sense as he is in any other, but the archangel naturally exudes such a vibe that Porsche feels dizzy. Anakinn’s clothes are simple - a white shirt that stands out starkly against his black wings and is open enough to show off the cut of his pecs, along with a pair of tight slacks. He mustn’t feel the chill, either, as any sensible person would at least wear a jacket up here.

 

Porsche’s eyes flicker back up to meet Anakinn’s, and where they are a natural brown colour, there’s nothing normal about them. It isn’t just one shade, but hundreds, maybe even thousands, that meld and entwine amongst each other in his irises, glowing almost golden with how rich they are that Porsche fears if he looks for too long, he will lose himself forever amongst them. 

“Done looking, Hunter Porsche?”

Porsche visibly jolts at the address, shuddering back into reality as he snaps out of whatever daze he is in.

“It’s not often I find myself face-to-face with an archangel,” Porsche retorts, willing the heat on his cheeks at being caught to fade away.

Anakinn smiles, barely a tilt of his lips, and yet Porsche feels he’s being treated like a child. It’s humouring - demeaning - like the angel opposite him sees him as nothing more than a toy to entertain himself with. It wouldn’t surprise him if that’s exactly what was happening, but it pisses him off either way. 

“We’re a private bunch,” Anakinn replies simply, gesturing to the table to the side. Porsche follows his hand to the breakfast spread laid out for them. “Shall we have something to eat, and then begin?”

Porsche shrugs, too stiff to be casual, but it at least forces his muscles to loosen, “Sure.”

Anakinn waits until Porsche moves first, and even with his back turned, he can feel eyes following him with each step. Before he can drag a seat out for himself, Anakinn asks from right behind him:

“Did Big treat you well on your way up?”

Porsche spins around, not having felt or heard anyone creep up on him. His heart is in his throat, his hand on the knife that was hidden in his jacket sleeve, the blade peaking out as he’s ready to attack. It’s lucky he just about caught himself from stabbing the archangel, too on edge from nerves.

Anakinn glances down, catching sight of the knife, “I see you weren’t checked for weapons.”

“I was,” Porsche replies instantly, and even though it’s delayed, he finally gets a waft of the archangel’s scent. His mouth waters - it’s not like anything he’s smelled before. It’s sensual, sweet, and musky - cloying and addictive. “Your people just underestimated me.”

“Oh?” Anakinn’s eyebrow raises, and it’s so unfairly attractive that Porsche feels a pulse of violence rise in him. “I assure you, no one in this building would dare do such a thing.”

“You don’t need to flatter me,” Porsche says cuttingly, sliding the blade back into its rightful place. “I know you chose me for a reason, and I’m damn good at my job, whatever it may be.”

Anakinn hums, eyes appraising as they trace over his face and down his body, and back up again. Each bit they cover leaves hot trails behind, burning his skin even through layers of clothes. “What if I wanted to flatter you?”

Porsche’s heart seizes, his throat clicking as he swallows. “Just add a couple thousand onto my pay check, and we’d be good.”

Anakinn steps closer, boxing Porsche in, pushing his lower back into the chair behind him. It digs in at an uncomfortable angle, precariously balanced on something that could move and leave him unmoored and unstable in his stance. Their chests are almost touching, and Anakinn’s scent gets stronger, sweeter, and more enticing. Porsche can see Anakinn’s wings out of his peripherals, and the feathers look even softer than he could’ve ever imagined. He wants to reach out and touch, but he doesn’t dare.

“Only a couple thousand, hunter?” Anakinn tilts his head to the side, deceptively innocent, “I think you’re worth more than that.”

“You haven’t even tried me yet,” Porsche replies, and he’s not sure what he’s talking about - whether it’s the hunt he’s about to be debriefed on, or something else. Even worse, he’s not sure which one he’d rather be discussing.

“We can change that,” Anakinn says, voice low, words rich and honeyed, as his eyes drop to Porsche’s lips. 

They linger, only for a moment, and then they’re gone, along with Anakinn’s presence. Porsche gasps in shock, turning back around to face the table, where the archangel is now sitting down, poised as if he’s on a throne and not a garden chair. 

“So, you’re not a cheap worker, hm?” 

Porsche drags his seat out, watching as the screeching sound of the metal against the concrete doesn’t make the man flinch. He flops down onto it, relishing in the plush softness of the cushion beneath him. 

Folding his arms over his chest, Porsche replies: “I’ll rinse you dry, but I’m worth every penny.”

Anakinn’s eyes search him again, this time more intense, not even bothering to hide the roaring desire and attraction in them. “Then I suppose I look forward to working with you, Hunter Porsche.”

Porsche smirks, shifting in his seat, leaning into the warm bubbling sensation caressing his skin at such a gaze directed at him, the base of his spine tingling with it. He can’t wait to see what Archangel Anakinn has in store for him.

#kinnporsche #my writing #kinnporsche fic #kinnporsche the series #kpts

[knockyasocksoff2022]

Some quotes from the actual Edgar Allan Poe that I think really fic BSD Poe.

This is just me rambling so it's all under the cut.

"From childhood's hour, I have not been. As others were, I have not seen. As others saw, I could not awaken. My heart to joy at the same tone. And all I loved, I loved alone."

This would refer to BSD Poe's isolation from being an ability user and a person of great intellect. (I feel like people don't talk about how actually smart he is enough because he's constantly compared to Ranpo. But if he could even challenge Ranpo that means he must be way smarter than the average person, not to mention to create mystery plots that stump most ordinary people.) When he found Ranpo it must have been a relief to find someone like him, who shared his passion for crime mysteries, only to be humiliated by him.

~

“I remained too much inside my head and ended up losing my mind.”

“I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity.”

“I do not suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it.”

“And being so young and dipped in folly, I fell in love with melancholy.”

These remind me of the six-year period he spent obsessing over his rivalry with Ranpo and plotting vengeance.

~

“I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched"

“Sometimes I'm terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it wants. The way it stops and starts.”

And then of course, these give me Ranpoe vibes.

~

“The believer is happy. The doubter is wise.”

“Science has not yet taught us if  madness is or is not the sublimity of intelligence.”

“Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality”

“Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.”

These are just the ones I think fit his general personality. I really like the one about madness being the sublimity of intelligence for him because I feel like many people characterize him as just a really stuttering and shy person (and he is, sometimes, especially around Ranpo) but he's also more than that. He's smart and creative and a lovable dork. I wish there were more Poe-centric fics.

He's very aware of how intelligent he is. And he's proud, maybe even more so since his defeat to Ranpo because he feels being smarter than most people is all he has and that he must cling to that to become superior to Ranpo. He has great confidence in his novels, only worried about what Ranpo thinks of them, not the general readers. (I'm thinking of the scene of him on the roof after Ranpo uses his novel to trap Chuuy in the cannibalism arc.)

Not to mention that, six years ago, he dared to challenge Ranpo, who by that point was already probably well-known for being a genius detective (as the agency had been around for six years by that point). He most likely knew that Ranpo was very smart, though maybe not the full extent of his skills, and was confident he could best him anyway. His defeat thoroughly surprised him, meaning his confidence wasn't based just on arrogance. He actually thought that with his great intelligence, he could beat Ranpo.

Another thing (which mostly stems from my personal interpretations of the characters) is that he and Ranpo have slightly different types of intelligence. Ranpo is skilled in detective work, but not much else (like riding the train or navigating), but Poe I think has more broad intelligence. It makes sense because he has to be very aware of the world and what goes on in it to write convincing stories. 

Both are skilled at reading people (Poe would have to be, to write characters that seem authentic and engaging) but I feel like Poe is more eloquent (he's totally an overthinker), whereas Ranpo just says exactly what he's thinking with no filter, he doesn't bother with fancy words. Ranpo may be able to read everyone in a room and know pretty much everything about them, but he isn't as good at reading the room in the emotional sense, he just says the truth and doesn't care if he upsets people.

So while Ranpo is more skilled at detective work, Poe is a very creative person, who is more socially and emotionally skilled. He's aware of the people and world around him, (despite his being an introvert) not only specific scenarios, like crime scenes. 

He has a galaxy brain that's always thinking of new and increasingly intricate ideas for his novels. But he isn't as skilled in detective work.

Same for Ranpo, for all his skill in crime solving, he would have a hard time writing a novel because he understands how people think logically, and what motivates them to commit crimes, like money, anger, or other criminal motives, but not socially. So he'd have difficulty writing dialogue for characters that weren't exactly like himself or the people he's very close to. (This is based on my reading of Untold Origins, namely his first encounter where he explains to Fukuzawa why he was kicked out of his job and seems not to understand at all why the boss got angry at him for revealing his secrets and kicked him out.)

I love both Ranpo and Poe, and both are very smart, equally so when you compare them in their specific skill sets (Poe is just as skilled at creating new and captivating mystery worlds as Ranpo is at solving crimes). Neither is smarter than the other on the whole, just in specific areas.

My point is I just want to see Poe being shown in fanworks as intelligent as well. Like him helping Louisa with strategy maybe or him being at the agency when they get a job that Ranpo deems boring, and he helps Atsushi solve the case. Maybe one of the guild/ada members reads his book and is really impressed. Or He traps a criminal inside and it takes them days to get out

Oooh, it'd be so cool if someone wrote a fic about one of Poe's victims getting trapped in his novel and slowly going insane trying to escape the complex mystery, one based on their own regrets, just to torment them with guilt, and eventually starving, dehydrating or killing themselves. And imagine it being in the original Edgar Allan Poe style!

Sorry, for my rambling, I hadn’t intended for this to get quite so long. I was so nervous to post this. I'm always nervous about posting my opinions about things.

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd edgar allan poe #edgar allan poe bsd #bsd poe #poe bsd #ranpoe #bsd ranpoe #bsd ranpo edogawa #bsd ranpo #edogawa ranpo #ranpo edogawa #bungo stray dogs ranpo #edgar allan poe #edgar allan poe quotes #quotes

[ncityprincess]

drunken cuddles

let’s consider this part 4 of the johnny x oc series. here’s a fluffy drabble where big drunken koala johnny acts extra clingy with his wife.

MDNI

part three

it was 1:27 am when johnny stumbled into the quiet house. he toed his shoes off and hung his jacket up in the coat closet as quietly as he could.

he had just gotten back from his friend yuta’s bachelor party. he still had the same group of friends since college, and he knew he couldn’t miss his best friend’s last party before he tied the knot.

johnny hadn’t gone out much since you had the babies. he didn’t want to leave you home alone with three kids. he knew you would be able to hold your own, but you and him had decided to let the twins develop more before going out with friends. it had been about 7 months since your twins eli and ryan were born. they were already used to their sleep and feeding schedules, so you felt comfortable with johnny going out to celebrate his friend’s marriage.

johnny entered the living room and let out a startled sound when he saw you sitting on the couch wide awake and scrolling on your phone.

“babyyyyy, you didn’t have to wait up for me” johnny whined. he made his way over to you and laid his full weight on top of your body, causing you to giggle.

“it’s ok, i just wanted to make sure you got in safely. how was the party?” you asked as you stroked his hair. he loved when you did that.

johnny’s hazy, honey colored eyed stared into yours. he looked so handsome even with this drunken glow that was evident on his face. “i had a blast honey. yuta took so many shots, i lost count. taeyong and jungwoo had to tap out after two drinks. we sang sooooo many karaoke songs. but i have to admit, i couldn’t stop thinking about my precious babies. i missed you so much” johnny ended his slurred ramble with a warm, open mouth kiss on your forehead.

you patted johnny’s head, chuckling softly. “it’s only been what, 5 hours since you left? i got you sprung that bad huh” you teased.

“you know it baby” johnny said with a drunken smirk.

you patted his back, signaling him to get off of you. “alright lover boy, let’s get you ready for bed”

“okay mama” johnny rolled off of you onto the floor. he resembled an inebriated sloth, the way he made his way towards the staircase.

you grabbed the water bottle you saved for when he returned home and followed behind your husband, poking him on the butt. he turned his head around and gave you a suggestive smirk. “keep it moving” you whispered.

the both of you made it to the top of the stairs where you and your children’s bedrooms were. johnny made a pit stop at hazel’s room and gently pushed the door open. he quietly made his way over to where his daughter was sleeping in her bed and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “goodnight, hazie. daddy loves you so much.”

you smiled at the cute scene in front of you and made your way to your shared bedroom. you had left out some clean clothes for johnny to change into.

after checking on his sons and saying goodnight to them too, johnny entered your bedroom, closing the door behind him. “i love you so much honey. i feel so lucky to have you.”

your man’s sudden sweet words made you blush. “aww, i love you more john. you’re so cute right now” you gushed. “come on, let’s get ready for bed.”

johnny nodded and went into the en suite bathroom to do his night time routine. once he came out of the bathroom you called him over to you and began to strip him of his clothes. you lifted his shirt over his head, undid his belt and his pants, and put him in a fresh pair of boxers. all the while you felt your husband giving you that signature stare. johnny always had a way of looking at you like you were the only girl in the world. it still made you blush till this day.

“stop looking at me like that” you said shyly.

“looking at you like what?”

“like you hold the whole world in your eyes”

johnny smiled sweetly down at you. “well i’m looking at you, and you are my whole world sooooo.”

you reached up on your tippy toes and ruffled his hair.

“even after all these years you’re still so impossible, johnny suh.”

“you know you love it” johnny teased smugly.

“here, drink some of this water before you go to bed. i’ll be right back” you said as you made your way to the bathroom.

“hurry up mama, i want to be the little spoon” you giggled at your big baby of a husband. he always got so clingy with you when he was drunk. you absolutely loved it.

“sure honey, give me one sec”

you came back from the bathroom and saw your husband passed out, snoring softly. you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head.

you climbed into your bed behind him and snuggled yourself into his back, draping your leg over his body. oh how you loved nothing more than snuggling up to your cozy “little” koala.

the end💋

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