#I haven't finished the book yet. I've been going back and forth between reading it and listening to the audiobook. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dentwy · 5 months

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number 3: house of leaves

i have this one discord bot i keep dming stuff to so it's easier to get files through mobile to pc, and as a general list of things i don’t feel like saving anywhere else or wanna be reminded of. obviously as i keep adding stuff i forget about older things just like you do with your watch later on youtube. tuesday, december 21 of the year 2021 at 1:50am i sent this message:

i know for a fact it's just because that's when i watched the game grumps play santa clause 3 but the point is that i've put it aside for quite some time now. as the years went on i'm pretty sure i've heard people mention the book here and there, but the thing that definitely made decide i want to read it is none other than the power pak myhouse.wad video, as i'm sure most people this year have experienced as well. sometimes it can feel intrusive for people in such a tight fandom to get bombarded with newcomers experiencing what you like in a completely different way because your niche thing now is more popular than ever, but i personally try to keep respectful about people's passions and i'm fairly realistic about it. yeah, i know you know about the doom mod, and it's cool, but let's focus on what's important. house of leaves.

"This is not for you." he said, well you can't tell me what to do johnny truant! gatekeeping is funny, i can't argue against it, and it's specially funny when the book you just opened is doing it to you. however, it usually seems with this book as if people treat it like some kind of evil secret thing you can only read and understand if you're fucked up and want to suffer. literature is a medium to share ideas and stories, stop making it out to be some kind of secret club. and to you reddit, please stop asking if you can skip the footnotes or a guide on how to read it, it's a book. just read the damn thing.

if by any chance you're reading this and haven't experienced house of leaves yet, i encourage you to do so. not sure if the pinnacle of ergodic literature, but it's absolutely an experience like none other. i mean, look up the book on google images and it'll catch your eye in an instant. it's a book within a book, within a movie, within a story, within a house. the maze never ends, and the house is ever expanding. it may be the wrong decision, but fuck it, it's yours.

there’re two core sides to this story, johnny truant's delusions and ongoing madness over this book he's just found, and the story this book is describing. i honestly fail to understand how people get bored of what mark danielewski has managed to concoct here, as the introduction itself was instantly gripping to me. alike johnny himself, i could not put away house of leaves until i finished it in the span of around 2 weeks. the constant back and forth between the narrators in the story could seem daunting at first, but each one adds so much more to the experience, recontextualizing characters, or scenes, or the entire book in nothing more than a couple of lines (or multiple pages for a single footnote). it's like reading through the ramblings of a crazy man, except you are actually reading through the ramblings of multiple crazy men. ticking away slowly, unveiling whatever could be at the end of the corridor.

as unreliable narrators go, never being sure on what you're reading is real or not is what constantly pushes the mystery into the words. it's what we choose to believe in that can change it all. i distinctly remember the navidson record detailing a comparison between the director of a movie called "la belle niçoise et le beau chien" and the character we've been following, will navidson. this seemingly real film, is in fact, not real. nothing more than a fabrication. layers upon layers of commentary, description, analysis and characterization forever shifting with the things we say, write and read, may all be not much more than a lie. the power of words is not to be underestimated. it is in fact the words and how they're used what make this book what it is. be it the decision to give the word house a tint of blue, purposely leaving things vague when it's most important, or driving off into completely unrelated tangents about debatably irrelevant topics. you may gather all the clues you want, yet the authenticity of the events are for you to decide. the line between reality and fiction warps the more you go and it may as well keep expanding the further you walk down those stairs.

1/4" can make the whole difference. the house represents many things. fear, uncertainty, secrecy, anxiety, suffering, peace, obsession, trauma. what goes in, may not ever leave, and what's outside, may not ever know. there's an overarching feeling of passion behind the actions the characters take. it's human nature to be curious, to solve the mysteries presented to us and to want to fix things with our own two hands. but what might look small, could very well be a lot bigger on the inside. more than you could've ever expected. "Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance. Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer."

there is a paragraph that i will not ever forget about, that i believe perfectly exemplifies the feeling of uncertainty of the unknown, not being in control and carrying the dread behind you:

"To get a better idea try this: focus on these words, and whatever you do don’t let your eyes wander past the perimeter of this page. Now imagine just beyond your peripheral vision, maybe behind you, maybe to the side of you, maybe even in front of you, but right where you can’t see it, something is quietly closing in on you, so quiet in fact you can only hear it as silence. Find those pockets without sound. That’s where it is. Right at this moment. But don’t look. Keep your eyes here. Now take a deep breath. Go ahead take an even deeper one. Only this time as you start to exhale try to imagine how fast it will happen, how hard it’s gonna hit you, how many times it will stab your jugular with its teeth or are they nails?, don’t worry, that particular detail doesn’t matter, because before you have time to even process that you should be moving, you should be running, you should at the very least be flinging up your arms—you sure as hell should be getting rid of this book—you won’t have time to even scream. Don’t look. I didn’t. Of course I looked. I looked so fucking fast I should of ended up wearing one of those neck braces for whiplash."

it has been argued house of leaves is a love story. i see it, and people have agreed as well, more as a story about love. family love, unrequited love, friendly love, love for small and big things, love for those and that you care about the most. the love that drives us forward to do what we do. granted it's mostly just semantics than a difference in genre, but it gives it a different meaning to me. the way words change how we perceive what surround us.

the open-ended nature of the book can leave things to be desired, but that may as well just be life. we're not sure about what's beyond, or what the meaning of it all is, yet we keep moving on. we strive for more, we want to make things right, but the corridor keeps expanding, and the further you go, the darker it gets.

#review #media analysis #house of leaves #literature #books #mark z danielewski

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amaya-chwan · 3 years

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Takeaways from Therapy Game Restart 14 + Illustration Book Release Date

Hello again everyone! ❤️💛💜

It's finally here... chapter 14! In all its glory! 😍🥰✨

Before we get to our takeaways, just some news I missed in the last post!

🎉 SENSEI'S ILLUSTRATION BOOK WILL BE RELEASED AROUND THURSDAY, 23RD SEPTEMBER! 🎉

Image taken from this Twitter post from Dear+!

It is titled "日ノ原巡イラスト集　DARLING" and boasts a collection of illustrations from Sensei's works so far: Secret XXX, Therapy Game, and Kamisama no Uroko.

The current price is ¥2970 with tax (¥2700 without tax). If you'd like to preorder it on your proxy shopping service, I've found it on the Comi Comi Studios website here! The bonus for purchasing it on this website is a B5 clear file~ I haven't seen it on Animate just yet, so fingers crossed it'll appear on their website soon with another (different) bonus! ❤️💛

Alright, with this amazing news done, let's move onto our takeaways, the long awaited takeaways! Thank you for being so patient with me! 💜

My short life update: currently in week 8 of lockdown and I haven't left my house in a long time other than for exercise or groceries. But I do have my vaccination appointment booked so YAY! 🎉

Here are our takeaways for this chapter:

Oh man, we pick right up from the last page of chapter 13. MINATO, BB, YOU LOOK SO PAINED! 😭

Sensei is the BIGGEST tease... that's all we got of that Minato and Shizuma scene...👀😭

The female staff at the veterinary hospital have really mellowed out! They're not bad, after all. ☺️

Oh dear, Nakajou-sensei, please get better ASAP!

Whoa... did Onodera just...?? I'm starting to think back to that Onodera discussion we had a couple of months ago... 🤔

Poor Shizuma, always roped into Onodera's workplace stuff! IT'S BECAUSE YOU HAVE GREAT PEOPLE SKILLS, SHIZUMA! PROUD OF YOU! 😍🙌

Man, Onodera has a really... blunt way of saying things to her human clients. Wow, brave. 😲

But I will say, Onodera really is good with animals. 🙌

Yet again, I think about that Onodera discussion we had... 🤔🤔

And that’s it for this chapter’s takeaways! For a more detailed breakdown/summary of this chapter, please continue after the cut! There may or may not be a surprise scene (or two) there. Please keep reading if you want to see~ 😉✨

Our chapter begins where we left off in chapter 13--Minato pinning Shizuma down on the bed. Shizuma looks up at Minato and reflects on his actions that caused the pained look he is seeing.

Image taken from this Dear+ Twitter post!

On the next page (title page), the dialogue reads: Shizuma wants to understand what it is about his director (Onodera) that is making Minato uneasy. // However, that beautiful liar hides it well...

(I believe we are taken back to the morning before Shizuma and Minato meet up for their date.)

The title page features Onodera walking back to the clinic, bread in hand, with a cat cozying up on her leg. We are then brought to the clinic's lunchroom, with the female staff and Shizuma on break. The roster in the room shows that Onodera is extremely busy, Nakajou-sensei has afternoon house call appointments, Tatsumi is Nakajou-sensei's support for these appointments, and Shizuma has a half day and finishes in the afternoon in lieu of working on his scheduled day off.

Shizuma asks his coworkers what presents they like from their partners and takes note of their answers. One of the female nurses asks if it's Minato's birthday. Shizuma confesses that their relationship has been affected by the various things happening lately, so he wants to get Minato a gift before seeing him later that day.

The nurses quickly pick up that the gift is a "tribute" of sorts as this line of work means a lot of missed appointments and dates, and Shizuma confirms their suspicions. While the nurses realise male-male relationships and male-female relationships aren't that different in this aspect, everyone in the lunchroom is alerted to someone shouting Nakajou-sensei's name.

Shizuma and a nurse see Tatsumi with Nakajou-sensei, who has collapsed on the floor. While the staff are concerned about Nakajou's well-being, she brushes it off as a dizzy spell. Before they can help her up, Onodera sweeps her off her feet and carries Nakajou to her (Onodera's) office. While Nakajou asks Onodera to put her down out of sheer embarrassment, Shizuma and Tatsumi are in shock, with Tatsumi commenting on Onodera's manliness in that moment. One of the other nurses gently smacks Shizuma's shoulder and tells the two to grab a blanket and a drink for Nakajou.

In her office, Onodera asks Nakajou why she's been overworking herself to the point of collapsing. The nurse (who gave the gentle smack) very obviously hints to Onodera that it is her fault. As Nakajou calms the nurse by saying that's just how the director is, Tatsumi asks Nakajou about their afternoon appointments. She says she'll be fine to go after a little rest, but the nurse says she mustn't overexert herself.

After a few back and forths about who should go and the clients' needs/personality (picky about the vet, had a pet that doesn't like men, etc), Onodera says she will go. The nurses are shocked and reminisce about all the issues they've had when Onodera interacts with the owners. Tatsumi and Shizuma stand there, and can very clearly imagine those situations happening.

While Onodera rearranges and informs the nurses of the shift changes to accommodate Nakajou-sensei, Shizuma has a terrible premonition that unfortunately comes true: he is appointed as Onodera's support for the afternoon house calls.

Wearing a sulky expression, Shizuma packs the necessary equipment in Onodera's car and reminds her that he has a very important engagement that night that he cannot miss, and as such will leave immediately after the house call appointments are done. Onodera bursts his bubble, and tells him to give up on those plans while he can since this is the line of work he's chosen.

As Shizuma reads the client files, he questions Onodera on why he is her support when he's never attended to these clients before. While Onodera tells him that good coordination is important with a physician's support and that he's the only one she can rely on to give her an honest opinion and calm the clients, Shizuma realises that he's basically the mediator between her and the owners. She confirms that this is his strong point, has great expectations for him, and proceeds to drive. Shizuma then reads the patient files at lightning speed, realising there's a threatening 'something' that Minato has sensed, but that's just how the director is. He then vows to make it to their meeting tonight, no matter what.

The first three house calls, as expected, involve Onodera insulting and angering the owners--Onodera tells the first client that his insistence on seeing Nakajou rather than a 'young' director is having a negative effect on his pet who needs immediate medical care; Onodera offends the second client, inferring from their conversation that her pet's appearance is more important than the need to shave their fur and get an ultrasound done; Onodera accuses the third client of being irresponsible in caring for his exotic animals and asks for more effort on his part. In all three scenarios, Shizuma awkwardly smiles while trying to ease the tension.

The scene skips to Onodera and Shizuma arriving at their fourth and final house call for the day. Just as Onodera explains to Shizuma that she must check a whole host of things at house calls (and indirectly be too blunt about it with the owners), Shizuma asks her to consider the owner's feelings and change when and how she says things. She glares ahead in silence, and Shizuma is just glad that she is now aware of it. He again reminds her to talk with the owner nicely and gently as he probably won't be able to help with the next client as their pet dislikes men. Onodera tells him to just sit in the corner and witness the client become furious while he doesn't help, making him feel slightly guilty for saying that. He is now adament on not helping her.

They reach the owner's home and we meet an elderly woman named Shiratori and her 9-year-old male cat, Tono. Shiratori apologises to Shizuma as her cat doesn't like men. Tono hisses at them as Onodera opens his cage, but is then coaxed into submission by Onodera who covers his vision with a towel and takes him into her lap to calm down. Shiratori and Shizuma are surprised at his sudden docile nature, with Shizuma witnessing how well she deals with animals.

As Shizuma looks on at Onodera while she completes a check on Tono, he sees she is crumbling at the friendliness and talkative nature of Shiratori, who sings nothing but praise for Onodera and how her family must be proud to have such an amazing daughter. Aiming to ease her troubles and remembering the earlier guilt-trip she gave him, he redirects Shiratori's attention to her broken fly screen and offers to fix that plus everything else that needs repair in her home.

Onodera watches as the two leave the room for a bit before apologising to Tono for ignoring him. Tono looks on at Onodera happily while she asks him how he can live with such a lively human and to tell her his secret to this. She brings him into her arms once more to check his limbs, and as Tono looks up smiling at Onodera, Onodera sees her reflection in Tono's eyes, and both seem to realise something.

BG Text: Stare...

Suddenly, Shizuma and Shiratori, who are busy fixing the window, hear a loud crash and rush into the room to find Tono atop the cabinet and Onodera on the floor, with her hair in disarray. In the next panel, Tono is shown to be hiding in the bookshelf, looking on irritatingly at the humans. Shiratori apologises to Onodera, who shakes it off and says it's nothing to worry about and no harm's been done.

Shiratori asks if Onodera will fix/tie her hair up again, but when Onodera says her hair tie was broken when Tono used her as a launchpad to get on the cabinet, Shiratori runs to get her a new one. As Shiratori gushes over the 3 piece dopey looking character hair tie set she received as a present from her grandchild (and lets Onodera pick one), a greatly displeased look is plastered on Onodera's face. Shizuma, in shock, notices her displeasure and hopes she just thanks Shiratori for it. And Onodera does, bringing a great big smile to Shiratori's face.

As Onodera and Shizuma leave, Shiratori says she's glad to have talked with Onodera and invites her to come over again. As she says this, we see Onodera looking back with a blank look in her eyes.

And that’s it for this chapter! THANK YOU FOR READING THIS FAR! 💜 While I was surprised at the lack of Minato in this chapter (Sensei legit is such a tease, LOL 🤣), I'm happy we can learn more about Onodera. Ngl, I'm starting to really question if Onodera is male or female now, given what transpired in this chapter. I guess we shall see in the next one!

I also changed the formatting a bit and removed the bullet points. Please let me know which format is better/easier to read! Ahah!

EDIT: Spelling and grammar checks are done! Didn't change a lot, but hope it reads better! 💜

📢 As always, please support Hinohara-sensei by purchasing her books and CDs! 📢

And please also refrain from resharing these translations and images outside of this post! Thank you for understanding! ❤️💛

There won't be a chapter in next month's (September release) Dear+, so I shall see you in two months for the next chapter (Dear+ November Issue, to be released in October).

As always, stay safe during these turbulent times and look out for each other and for your loved ones! 💜❤️💛

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your-eternal-muse · 4 years

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Use me (Part two)

Summery: Reader takes Spencer up on his offer to rid her system of "The Wizard".

Warnings: Hard core, nasty ass smut; fingering, oral sex,(female receiving); penetration; unprotected sex/creampie; multiple orgasams

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

A/N: Here it is. Part two. I'll link part one in a bit after I do some things, but other than that enjoy! And yes, there will be a part three.

Part 1

Im dead.

The substance that he injected me with was lethal, and I'm laying in a dark alley somewhere, dead, because kissing Spencer Reid is heaven.

His hands grip my hips, holding me against him as he presses me into his window.

His lips are soft and warm, and easily tell me what to do and when to do it.

My body is on fire in the best way possible.

My fingers run their way through his hair, tugging on the satin strands as he kisses his way down my jaw, leaving bite marks until he finds the pulse point just above my collarbone.

Every touch, every kiss, sends waves down to my core, where it waits drowning in my juices.

He's situated between my legs, his ever present bulge pressing just so onto me.

It's driving me insane.

Without thinking, my hips buck forward, and the small ounce of pressure starts a ball forming in my gut.

I feel him smile against my neck, before he detaches himself.

We're both breathless, chests heaving, and my hands are shaking as I grip his dress shirt.

"Tell me what you need, Princess."

Fantasies, y/n, think of your fantasies.

"I-I need your fingers."

While I'm talking, he removed the holster from his hip, setting it on the desk beside us.

"Please, Spence. You haven't even touched me and I'm so close."

His hands immediately find the button of my jeans, undoing them and pushing them down just enough to have room.

He doesn't hesitate, cupping my sex through my panties.

"So fucking wet. Is this what I do to you?"

I can't speak through the mewls leaving my throat, so I just nod.

"Words, please." His voice is steady, and I know if it were different circumstances, he'd punish me for making him repeat himself.

But right now, he just runs his fingers over the fabric, back and forth through the wetness.

"Yes, fuck, you make me so wet Spencer."

That must have been what he wanted to hear, because in one swift motion, without removing his fingers from my skin, he goes up my stomach, and then down again, slipping under the band of my underwear.

He runs his fingers through my folds, easily slipping a finger into my heat.

My hand clutches his upper arm, my mouth hanging open in ecstacy as he pumps his finger in and out.

"Tell me what you want me to do, Princess. I want to make you feel good."

You're already doing that babe.

I try and gather my thoughts, and right as I'm about to speak, he slips another finger in.

"Fuck." My head hits the glass panel of his window.

My fingers are going to leave bruises on his bicep, but I really could not care less at this point.

His lips attach themselves to my neck, and the warm ball deep inside me starts to grow.

But I need more.

"F-Faster. Please go faster."

"Anything for you, baby girl."

His fingers move faster within me, and I grind down into them every time they enter me.

He leaves my neck, looking down at the work he's doing, his breathing a lot smoother than my own.

With his free hand, he takes the hand of mine that's still gripping his shirt, and he leads it up to his lips.

He gently kisses the tips of my first two fingers before taking them into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits, all while keeping direct eye contact.

I almost cum at the sight.

He leads them from his mouth, down my stomach, stopping to rest at the bundle of nerves at the top.

"Touch yourself."

Yes sir.

I frantically start moving circles over my clit, as his fingers continue pumping in and out of me.

And then it happens.

He curls his fingers as he enters me, and sparks are sent up and down my spine.

I can't help but gasp.

"Yes, fuck fuck fuck, right there. Holy shit."

His long slender fingers move faster and faster within me, curling around that pretty little spot until boom.

My orgasm hits me like a train, as I clench around his fingers, which are still moving as I cum.

My chest rises and falls, as I try to catch my breath, and he removes his hand.

And for one, blissful moment, the fire disappears.

Before it comes crashing back.

He seems to read me like a book, pulling me towards him again.

"You don't think I'm finished with you yet, do you?"

Thank fuck.

I can't help but smile, moving my hands up his chest to lay at the nape of his neck, pulling him down into another kiss.

His hands run down my back, over my ass, to rest on the back of my thighs.

With one finger, he taps the muscle, and on shaky legs, I manage to jump high enough for him to place his hands just above the back of my knees to carry me.

While he makes his way through his apartment to his bedroom, I trail kisses down his neck, leaving marks of my own in their wake.

He lays me on the bed, hovering over me as one hand finds the hem of my shirt, pushing it up over my stomach.

He steps back, standing at the foot of his bed as I lift my grey t-shirt up over my head, tossing it somewhere in his room.

Sweat covers my skin, making my hair stick to my face and neck, and my chest glistens in the dim orange light of his room.

I watch as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, and slowly sucks off my juices.

I brush hair out of my face, watching with lustful fascination.

They leave his mouth with a pop before going to his tie and undoing it.

"You taste so fucking sweet, Princess."

One by one, his fingers travel down his shirt, undoing every button on their way down.

I sit up, crawling over to him, pushing the fabric from his shoulders.

My fingers run over his chest, and down his stomach, pausing at his belt as I undo the buckle.

His hands come up to cradle my face, as he kisses me again.

I'll never get used to him kissing me.

I want his taste engraved into my tongue.

Why the hell can't I have an eidetic memory?

Even without one though, I know I'll never forget this.

My hand sneaks into his pants, palming him over his boxers.

His moan breaks the kiss, and his eyes fall shut.

How can someone look so beautiful with my hand down their pants?

"As much as I would love to see that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock," his breathes are more labored now, and his hands fall from my face to grasp my hips. "Tonight's about making you feel good."

I didn't even realize his hands had moved until the clasp of my bra was undone.

"Now, be a good girl and lie down." He whispers.

I'm past the point of being embarrassed, laying down without another word, a blush crawling up my neck.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful,"He crawls over me, encaging me in his arms.

He kisses me once, before traveling down my neck and chest, stopping only to suckle each of my nipples into his mouth, before continuing down my stomach.

He loops his fingers into the belt loops of my jeans, pulling them down the rest of the way before tossing them behind him.

He then starts at my right ankle, and begins to kiss up my leg, repeating with my left before he comes to settle in between my legs.

He pulls my panties down slowly, watching my reaction as every second passes.

"If you want me to stop, just say so, okay?"

God, I love him.

Not likely, but okay.

I nod, before remembering he told me to use my words. "I understand."

"Good."

I'm going to marry this man.

Purely for the fact that he eats pussy like it's his last fucking meal.

My fingers twist themselves into his hair, as he holds my sex against his mouth, licking and sucking like he hasn't eaten in years.

I spare a glance down and my heart almost stops.

His eyes are closed, and his hair is starting to curl from the humidity in the room.

He must sense me watching, because his eyes open, and I feel him smirk against me.

He licks up through my folds, stopping to suck on my clit until I'm shaking underneath him.

He moves his hand from my hip and grabs one from his hair, once again leading it to my clit as his mouth moves down.

I start rubbing circles, but stutter as I feel his tongue dart into me.

He's watching me now, the way I quiver underneath him, the pathetic moans echoing through his bedroom.

He does it again and again, and I can feel my orgasm teetering on the edge.

He can tell as my circles go frantic, and my hand in his hair holds me closer to him than I thought possible.

"Spencer, I'm gon-"

I'm falling.

Stars explode in my vision, and my back arches off the bed as I cum into his mouth.

I fall, breathless, onto his mattress as be retracts himself from me, a proud smile etched onto his face.

The moment of calm lasts longer this time, but it once again comes back, burning me at the edges.

"I need, I need one more." I plead, my throat hoarse from screaming.

He stands, removing his belt, and letting his pants fall down to the floor.

I lift myself up into my elbows and smile at him.

He pushes his boxers off his hips and I stare, open mouthed as his erection pops free.

God, it's better than I could have ever imagined.

I wipe my chin to make sure I'm not drooling and he laughs.

"Now, I don't have any condoms on me, but-"

"I'm on the pill."

It's the fastest I've spoken tonight, and I slowly start spreading my legs.

"I'm on the pill, and I want, no, need you to cum inside me." I bite my lip, and bat my eyelashes at him. "I even used my words."

I see his dick twitch and he groans, the muscles in his stomach tensing.

"As you wish, Princess."

He crawls back onto the bed, pumping his dick in his hand a couple times, before sliding it through my folds to pick up some wetness.

He isn't even in me yet, and already my hands grip the sheets around us.

"You ready?"

"Yes sir."

He moans, deep and low within his chest, and he smiles."I love it when you call me that."

And then he slowly pushes into me, and my eyes squeeze shut because holy shit he feels better than I could have ever thought.

My dildo at home doesn't even compare to this.

He bottoms out, and he takes a moment to catch his breath."God, you feel so fucking good, baby girl."

I wrap my legs around his waist, and pull his lips down to mine as he slowly starts moving.

I can see sweat build up on his hairline, and his room is going to feel of sex for days.

A part of me thinks he's not gonna care all that much.

His breathing is starting to match my own, and he nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck as his strokes become faster.

My back moves against the softness of his sheets, and my nails dig into the skin of his back.

It doesn't take long for that warm ball to start growing towards my (hopefully) final climax.

"Im cl-close, Spence."

His breath is hit on my neck, and the speed tells me he's close too.

But than his hand finds my hip, and lifts me just so, and the angle in which he snaps back into me makes me choke on air.

Stroke after stroke, he hits a spot deep within me, and I know I'm done for when he whispers "Cum for me," into my ear.

And boy, do I cum.

My soul leaves my body, and I can barely register the warm feeling of his release inside of me as he rides out both of our orgasms.

When I open my eyes, my nails are at the bottom of his back and he's laying on top of me.

I wait for the heat to come back but it doesn't.

My head is clear, and my skin no longer feels like it's on fire.

His head is resting on my chest and I move some hair away from his face, placing a soft kiss on to his forehead.

"Thank you." I don't speak louder than a whisper, not wanting to break the delicate moment.

I had dreams about this happening.

Granted, not exactly like this, but I had them.

Now that it's happened, I don't want to let it go.

I don't want to let him go.

He lifts his head and smiles, his eyes soft and his dimples ever present in the dim lighting.

He's so beautiful.

"The pleasure was all mine, y/n." His voice was just as soft, just as afraid to break the fragile air.

He leans forward, kissing me gently one last time before he carefully climbs off of me.

He leaves the room, and for a moment, I'm alone with my thoughts. And I realize my vagina aches. I reach a hand down and gingerly touch it and his when it pulses. I'm also pretty sure my legs are numb.

I wiggle my toes, just to make sure I can, and he walks back in with a washcloth.

He concentrates as he wipes the cool fabric across my skin, clearing away the evidence of our explosion. He folds it, getting a clean side, before reaching up and wiping my brow and face.

He brushes some hair out of my face, and I grab his wrist, holding his palm there.

His thumb swipes across the apple of my cheek and I close my eyes, content to staying here.

But he has other plans.

"As much as you don't want to, we need to go to the hospital. We need to talk to the team."

I sigh, knowing he's right.

"Hotch is going to be pissed that I gave in to exactly what the unsub wanted. But you know what?" I look up at him.

"What?"

"It was my choice. And I don't regret it for a second."

He smiles, and I swear I see a blush dust his cheeks, but he removes his hand and stands, gathering the clothes strewn about the room.

I sit up on his bed, carefully swinging my legs over the side to place my feet on the hardwood floor, not quite trusting myself to stand.

He hands me my clothes and even goes as far as helping me slide my jeans back up my legs, kissing me once they're situated on my hips.

He goes about putting on his own clothes as I slip my t-shirt back over my head, finally pushing myself up off the bed.

As soon as I'm upright, the room starts spinning, and I place a hand on my forehead, trying to turn to see Spencer.

He drops his shirt as he rushes forward, and my world goes dark.

Use me taglist: @1800-fight-me @cielo1984 @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @rainsong01 @eternityofaxiom

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #mathew gray gubler #mathew gray gubler smut #mgg

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that-taters-my-tots · 5 years

Text

Uncut Books Lead To Reading Dates Don't You Know

Nick and Gatsby sat at the small table in Nick's little kitchen reading over separate parts in the same newspaper. While Nick looked over the stock sales, Gatsby read the weather report and the headlining news. Sunlight streamed in through the windows and the smell of coffee and buttered toast filled the room. The only noise was the occasional rustling of newsprint.

The couple did this often, every Sunday to be exact. Gatsby would send a servant to get the first copy of the Sunday paper and then he would immediately go across the lawn to Nick's house where they would read it together. It was one of their little habits that the both of them enjoyed immensely. It made them feel like a real couple, because inside either of their houses, that's what they were.

Nick yawned into his hand and then folded up his piece of the paper and laid it on the table. He grabbed his cup of coffee and took a slow sip, “You know, Jay, something has been bothering me for a while.”

Gatsby looked over the top of his section of the paper, he marked his spot with his thumb and then folded it in his lap. “What's that, old sport?”

Nick paused for a moment, “Well, the first time I ever went to one of your parties, I found myself in your library and I've been wondering why you haven't read any of your books.” He could remember clearly the eventful night that party was and the little, drunken owl-eyed man raving about all the books being uncut. “Why have all those books and not read them?”

A faint, embarrassed flush crept into Gatsby's cheeks and he smoothed back his hair which was a nervous habit of his. He remembered a bespectacled man who showed up to his parties already drunk, and always commented on his library in not-so-subtle ways that lead Jay to believe that he gave the books a thorough looking at. It never bothered him that that little man knew that his books was real, but he had never suspected that anyone else had taken the time to notice, let alone Nick. “Ah well- playing the part I suppose. What's the use of a library without any books? Even if I don't take the time to read any of them, it doesn't mean I don't enjoy the thought of having the time to sit down and read one someday.”

Nick gave a nod over his cup, he knew that Gatsby probably had the enough time on his hands to read a hundred books but he didn't say anything about it. They hadn't been together long and Nick was still working his best to chip through Jay's facade and to get to know the real him underneath all the glitz and glamour. “My cousin,” They had stopped saying Daisy's name once they had officially gotten together. “She has a library too, though every single book is just a phone book with a fake cover painted on. I was actually a bit disappointed when she shoved me.”

Gatsby perked up at that last part, “Well,” He started, giving a small shrug. “My library is open to you at anytime.. I'd even be glad to read with you. There's this small nook hidden behind the list shelf with a fireplace and a sofa big enough for us both... Perfectly hidden away.”

Nick flashed a small smile and felt a heat rise in his cheeks. “I'd enjoy that a lot, Jay. Maybe we could go over later this morning?”

“Later? Why, we can go now.”

And so it was settled. The two men finished their remaining coffee and last bites of toast before they set off across the lawn to Gatsby's house.

Even though it was just across the way and that Jay was his boyfriend, Nick couldn't help but feeling undressed besides him. Nick wore a simple white button up and slacks, while Jay wore a fine golden coloured suit.

When they entered through the back door the first thing that Nick noticed was the scent of oranges, on days when there wasn't a party happening for hours on end, the large manner seemed to always smell like oranges. Nick didn't mind though, will all the time he had spent in the house, the smell of oranges had become wonderfully familiar and even somewhat comforting.

They house felt empty as they walked up a grand staircase to the floor that housed the library, the sound of their shoes tapping and the quiet chatter of their voices seemed to echo loudly around them. When they came before the large doors of the library, Jay held one open for Nick with a gentle smirk on his lips. “After you, old sport.”

Nick rolled his eyes and chuckled as he walked in first, when Gatsby entered and the door shut behind them he took a hold of his hand. “What do you feel like reading?” He asked not looking at Jay, but instead at all the towering shelves packed neatly with books around them.

Jay smiled as he watched Nick admire the room, his thumb slowly grazing the back of his hand. “I don't know, I think I might just pick something at random. Let fate pick for me.” He leaned in and placed a quick kiss to Nick's cheek. “Let me show you to the back then,” He said and started walking through the rows of books, zigging and zagging.

It occurred to Nick that the library was actually some type of twisted, literature labyrinth and that without Jay's guidance he probably would’ve been lost between the stacks. “Fate huh?” He murmured, he never really believed in such a thing. “I think I'll do that too.”

They when they arrived at the little nook, as Jay called it, Nick noticed that it looked like the place was completely unused. A plush, navy sofa with dark clawed feet was pushed up against the wall by an empty stone fire place, and there was a dark wooden table that was clear all except for two ivory handled letter openers.

“Do you even use half of the things you have in this house of yours?” Nick asked with a disbelieving smile.

“I don't even use a forth of my things, Nick, let alone half.” Gatsby shook his head.

“You're sure something, you know that?”

“So you've told me,” Jay grinned, he pulled Nick closer towards him. “But, ah, remember, you're with this ‘something’. ”

“I can't deny that,” Nick laughed and kissed Gatsby.

Jay smiled against the kiss, “I thought you wanted to read?” He asked once they pulled away.

“There's a lot of things I want to do in this world.. old sport, you included.”

Gatsby loved Nick, he really did. When he thought about how much that man made his heart soar and his face hurt from smiling he could never figure out what made him fall for Daisy, a woman who had neither have of Nick's personality nor his charm. “We can get to that later,” He raised Nick's hand in his own and kissed his knuckle. “But for now- we're reading.”

Nick nodded with a smile, then the two of them separated into the stacks to find a book.

Gatsby was the first one back to the little nook, he had walked down three rows of books, then finally at the start of the third he closed his eyes and picked one at random. The one he came back with was a small paperback with a powder blue cover. It bore no title, just a name: Hopkins. He sat down on the sofa and grabbed up one of the letter openers to cut the first page. A single flower filled the first page.

By the time Nick returned with his own book, Gatsby was a quarter of the way through his own. He perked up when Nick sat besides him, “What did you find then?”

Then held up a leather bound book, “It's called Revolutionary Sparks. What about you?” The sofa was small, both men sitting snugly next to each other, their knees and elbows touching.

“If mine has a title, I've yet to find it, bit it's a book of poems by someone named Hopkins. I've never been much for poetry but it's rather good.”

Nick peeked over Jay's shoulder to get a look at the book he was reading, “You never struck me as a poetry type of guy.”

“I never knew I enjoyed it, I always thought I hated it because Robert Frost’s work nearly always bored me to death.”

Nick snorted and picked up a letter opener from the table, “I love you, Jay, even if you are something.”

Gatsby grinned, “And I love you, Nick, even though you tease me horribly.”

#the great gatsby #tgg #nick carraway #jay gatsby #natsby

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