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#and what if we didn't last and we were already living there???  what would i do then????
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Someone older
Summary: As Fernando Alonso's daughter, you finally have the opportunity to watch him race live again after several years. During the event, you encounter a handsome Spanish Ferrari driver.
A/N: no use of Y/N, some spanish
Carlos Sainz x Alonso reader
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It's not like you meant for it to happen, after all. Admitting it made you feel even a little bit weird. Because how do you explain your attraction to older men? Not that they have to be ancient; a few years older is good enough for you, they just need to have the vibe.
Sadly enough, or actually lucky enough for you, your Papi works with a lot of men that fit that vibe. Not that you would tell your Papi that, because how do you tell your dad, Fernando Alonso, that his Formula 1 job brings you around all these hot men that are your type, and most of them are at least four years older? Not that you're a baby; you're 22. Not that you can tell your Papi that; he would explode.
Either way, you can't blame a girl for looking, especially not at the most handsome Spaniard you've ever seen, Carlos Sainz. But you should probably stop being that oblivious with your looking before you walk by his garage; otherwise, he will realize, but most of all, your Papi will realize.
As I gather up the courage to walk by his garage, I get startled by a voice.
'Princesita, are you coming or not?' There he stands, your most favorite person in the world, your Papi. 'Of course I am coming, Papi!' But you're walking way too fast; the race only starts tomorrow. As you say that, you follow him quickly behind, as you don't know your way around the paddock. The last race you went to with your Papi was at least seven years ago when you were a 16-year-old girl, and your staring problem was way more obvious. Sorry, Mr. Vettel.
Alright, maybe you needed to practice a little bit more because there he stands, the man with the most beautiful brown puppy eyes, accompanied by the most beautiful cocky smirk. But that is not the problem; the problem is that he is talking to your Papi, and you're walking their way.
Princesita, come here. I want you to meet Carlos," your Papi says. As he speaks, you see his head turn to look at you. And yes, you most definitely still have your staring problem. Luckily for you, he seems to have the same problem as he looks you up and down and smirks. He gazes into your eyes with his beautiful brown eyes, and suddenly, you realize he's saying something. "Sorry, what did you say?" you try to laugh it off.
He laughs and says, 'Nice to meet you, hermosa,' as he shakes your hand a little too long for it not to be a little flirty. You're both interrupted by laughter and a deadly glare from your Papi. 'We have to go, Princesita,' he says in a stern voice. I try to keep my giggle inside, but it doesn't work as you follow your Papi to his garage. As I turn around, I notice a certain Ferrari driver still watching you.
Luckily for you, your Papi forgets about it soon enough. I mean, how could he not? Your Papi had a place on the podium today. And even more luckily for you, a certain beautiful Ferrari driver with beautiful brown eyes was also on the podium. That way, no one would notice your staring problem. Well, they probably wouldn't if he didn't keep looking back at me.
As your Papi runs off the podium, he runs to his team and to you to give you a big hug. And that is the moment that you know there will be a great celebration, which you could finally join. Maybe with enough luck, a certain Spanish Ferrari driver could also join; after all, he also has something to celebrate.
As I get ready for the club, I had the trouble of deciding what I should wear. After all, what do you wear to celebrate your Papi's win while still being sexy enough to seduce a certain Spanish Ferrari driver? After I think it is cute enough and my Papi is finally ready to go, we are on our way to the club. As we pull up, I realize that it's already packed, which is great news because that would mean that there are already some drivers inside.
As we walk around, I realize that maybe it isn't that great of news that it's so fully packed, as I already lost my Papi in two minutes with no one else I recognize. I push myself through the crowd, trying to get to the VIP section.
'Everything going alright, hermosa?' As I turn around to the person who whispered that in my ear, I see the most beautiful driver on the track and say, 'Yes, just trying to find Papi.'
He laughs. 'I don't think this is the place where you want to find your Papi.' Suddenly, I get pushed into him and look up into his beautiful eyes. He bends down, looking at my lips, and whispers, 'You want to dance, hermosa?
Before my mouth could even form a response, my head was already nodding yes. He laughs at me and smiles as we keep getting closer. As we dance, I notice him looking at my lips, and I kiss him. At first, he acts surprised until I feel him grin in our kiss and spin me around.
Before I even realized what was happening, we were in his hotel room, and I ended up in his bed. As I wake up to the most beautiful man grinning at me, he says, 'Good morning, hermosa.' I giggle and reply, 'Good morning.' He laughs and gives me a kiss until my phone rings very loudly. I grab it and realize I am in big trouble because I promised my Papi he could drive me home.
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ozzgin · 11 hours
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Yandere! Bad Guy x Reader
I am currently in my Natural Born Killers nostalgia, and so I'm borrowing its vibes and bringing you this: a bad-to-the-bone, rock-and-roll attitude yandere who constantly makes you question your own morality. Featuring an old OC!
Content: gender neutral reader, violence, murder, male yandere
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He fell in love with you at first sight. A goody two shoes, quiet and obedient. Shy. Oh, terribly shy. You couldn't even meet his eyes. He knew you were the kind others would step on, take advantage of. But there was more to it, much more to uncover.
Who was it? A relative, a friend, a coworker? You know, that person holding you back, keeping you in your place. The one who'd always make you feel small and insignificant. The one who would always find something to criticize. How did it feel when you found them on the ground, bashed in and bloodied up? He was standing above the lifeless body, catching his breath, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His way of courting you.
He looked so tall in that moment, towering above your hesitant self, his gaze of a confidence and intensity you'd never known before. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get in", he said, gesturing towards a convertible he most likely stole earlier that day. What possessed you in that moment to join him without delay? Was it his charisma? Or did you know in the depth of your soul that he wouldn't take no for an answer?
You see, he's known it from the beginning. Someone like you needs someone like him. You’re a sweet little lamb lost among the wolves. The world would eat you right up if you were left by yourself. But now you have him. And he won't let his precious prey get away. Oh, dear, no. If he wants something, he gets it. And he's never wanted anything more than you.
"You didn't...even tell me your name", you sheepishly spoke up from the passenger seat, trying to keep your mind away from the crime you'd just witnessed. "Just call me Tig", he said casually with a yawn, speeding away. "Won't you be in trouble, Tig? Why would you even kill-" you tried to reason. "What kinda question is that? They treated you like shit and it pissed me off." He glanced at you with a frown, taking another drag off his cigarette. "You're mine now, so whatever happens to you is my business. Got it?" You just stared. Was that his way of asking you out?
Tig lives by his own rules, as you quickly learned from becoming his companion. Always on the run, indifferent to the world. For the most part, to your surprise, he's well-behaved. If people don't mess with him, he doesn't mess with them. Simple as that.
Anything involving you, however, sets him off terribly. Like a rabid, ferocious guard dog, he's ready to pounce on whoever approaches you the wrong way. Last week you stopped at a highway diner for coffee, and on your way back to your table, you jokingly pulled a clumsy dance move to the song playing from the speakers. Tig observed you with an amused smile, sipping from his cup. A passerby joined you, resting his arm on your waist flirtatiously. Tig's smile dropped in an instant, and next thing you knew, the whole place was splattered in blood. No one made it out.
"I didn't even finish my coffee", you whined, already used to the occasional massacre. The man hopped behind the counter and threw on a bloodied cap. "What will it be, sir/ma'am?" he pretended, dangling a takeaway cup and starting the espresso machine. "I never told you, but I used to be a barista", he declared proudly. An entirely different person from the unhinged killer you witnessed minutes ago. "What? You said you were a mechanic", you questioned with raised brows. "That's also true. I'm a jack of all trades, I suppose. You know what I'm best at, though?" He lowered himself until his forehead touched yours. "Pleasing you."
The man is romantic in his own way. He twists the key, and the engine stops. You follow him out of the car in confusion. "Why did we stop here?" He briefly lifts himself up onto the tall fence securing the bridge, and inhales deeply. "Isn't it a nice view?" he says, nodding ahead. It is a scenic sight, sure. The river slithers along the lush valley, and the setting sun gives everything a dramatic tint. "Give me your hand", he suddenly demands as he goes to grab it himself. Before you can ask for an explanation, he quickly drags a blade across your palm, and you wince in pain. He repeats the gesture with his own hand, locking his fingers with yours over the rail. You watch as fresh blood trails along your skin, eventually falling into droplets and vanishing into the river. "Now we're going to be everywhere", he remarks playfully. "Okay, but what was the point?" you insist, a little baffled.
"Isn't it obvious? Maybe this will help", he continues, procuring a ring from his pocket. "I'm saying I want to marry you, (Y/N)."
You open your mouth to answer, but he already slides it up your finger, eyes glimmering in excitement.
"You're never getting away from me, love."
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ciaonicole85 · 9 hours
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Part 1: What then?
Some seemingly innocent, but truly mind-altering information is shared in a staff meeting.
Short fan fic. Low-key Sydcarmy/The Bear fluff. Post-season 2. Canon-compliant.
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Location: The Bear Time: 10:05 a.m.
The restaurant had closed lunch service on a Tuesday for a "Development Day". The Bear had been open for 5 months and had a 2 month wait list! After Family and Friends when they had all banded together the Bear crew had gotten tighter than ever. Carmen had been a outsider in his own restaurant for a couple weeks, but soon the dust settled. Even Sydney came around after 3 weeks of his patient groveling. The duo was good and soon The Bear had become one of Chicago Tribune's "Best New Restaurants." However, with success The Bear was changing fast. They had hired more full-time front and kitchen staff, which was great. The downside was that "respectful communication" and "customer complaint management" was waning a little. Things were not terrible, but Richie for whom Ever set the bar in hospitality, The Bear should always be improving, not sliding backwards. Natalie, Carmen and Sydney agreed. They also wanted to discuss new menu changes and a to-go system they would be testing soon.
"Okay, people! Let's get started" Natalie said beckoning everyone to take a seat at the front of house.
Richie stood next her "casually dressed" in a button down blue dress shirt and dark grey slacks.
He began, "As you know The Bear is on track to paying off the loan and we're the freakin' toast of the town right now, but this is not the time to take a nap. We gotta keep our eyes on the prize. So first, up facial regulation as known as RBF awareness."
Natalie tapped his shoulder and whispered, "Richie, I love your enthusiasm, but I thought we might start with an ice breaker?"
He shrugged and continued, "But Nat, has a ice breaker. Take it away".
Natalie resumed.
"So, first we want to thank each of you for being part of this dream and making it fun, rewarding, and successful. As you know The Bear is a family business and since there's new faces here we'd like to get to know you better and vice versa. We'll start with a quick round of "Best and Worst". Just pick a question out of the cup and answer it. Please keep your answers to 2 minutes."
The first question went to Randall, a young man in his early 20's with dark curly hair and thick glasses that frequently fogged in the humid kitchen. He was the new assistant pastry chef.
"What was the best place I ever lived? Hm…Guam. My dad, Army, was stationed on the base and I lived there from age 9-11. I had like 12 friends just on my block and we were always playing soccer, swimming, or riding our bikes. It was awesome."
"Thanks Randall!" Natalie chirped.
The next went to Tina.
"Ok…what is worst advice I've ever been given? Keep your head down and do what you know. That's the advice I used to give myself. Thankfully I didn't listen because now I'm a sous chef!"
Sydney who was sitting near the front between Gary and Carmy, beamed at Tina who returned the smile with a little moisture in her eyes.
The next question went to Marcus.
"Best moment in the last year? It was training at Noma, in Copenhagen. It was my first international trip. I got to stay in a houseboat, explore the city, meet cool people, and figure out that I wanted to do this maybe forever."
The last several months had been really hard due to Marcus's mom's passing. He had returned to work after a week of mourning citing that he knew she wouldn't want him to sit at home now that she was no longer sick. Despite that he was getting better every day and had come up with several new popular dessert specials. Tina was seated next to him and patted his arm.
The next few questions went to new dishwasher, Chris, Fak, and then Gary.
Sydney drew the next question and winced upon reading it. It wouldn't be possible to lie because Marcus already knew the truth.
"What was my best meal ever? Well…it was this pork confit with onions and rhubarb. Then after I had this dish called Milk and Honey."
She kept her eyes plastered onto the tiny strip of paper while she spoke. In her peripheral field she could see Carm turning slightly towards her, his cornflower blue eyes boring two holes into the side of her head.
"Sounds grand. Ok, Carmy pick a question" Richie ordered wanting to get down to business by 10:30am.
Carmy didn't seem to hear him. He was on another planet.
"Yo cuz, pick a question!"
He startled and drew a question.
"Uh ok. Best part of my day? Hmmm. Closing up."
It was now Sydney's soul's turn to exit her body. Every night, with few exceptions, she and Carmy ended the night in his office to debrief on the day, perform last checks, and close together.
After a moment she felt his eyes still glancing at her. Without turning she whispered, "Later." The last thing she needed was to look at him, and forget how much time was passing, giving Richie yet another reason to tease them. Not long ago he gave them matching copies of a workplace relationship etiquette tip sheet stapled to an OSHA industrial hygiene handout before leaving them to close.
She sighed, trying to compose herself. It was no big deal. So what that Carm knew he was responsible for the best thing she ever ate? Also, they're partner-friends so it's totally normal that his favorite time of day when is they are together…alone. Right?
UH OH.
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bhaaldursgays · 14 hours
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I have this scene in a Gortash Lives And Gets Dragged Through Redemption AU I keep thinking about. It has my durge Clira and Gortash laying in bed, before they reconcile fully so they're like a foot and a half apart. Clira is trying to sleep, finding herself comforted by Gortash's presence as she's asking him to tell her stories she doesn't remember. I thought I might share it, in case anyone likes it
The sun hasn't set yet, casting the room in a gently, golden light as Gortash tells her of their history, of little things she can't remember - "Your hair used to be longer. You hated people touching it. For a long time only Sceleritas was allowed to brush and trim it for you." - as well as filling in the memories that were hazy.
He tells her how they worked together, what they explored together. Of lovers she had, kills she made - "Remember Nathaniel? You liked him. You thought he was beautiful and sweet. You even mourned him." - and she has found that she easily falls asleep to the gentle sound of his voice.
Just before she falls asleep she asks him for one last memory.
"Tell me something about you that I've forgotten," she says, mumbling just a little. Her eyes are already closed, her breathing slow. He knows she'll fall asleep soon, and he doesn't think he's welcome in her bed after that. Not yet.
His dark eyes look at her, but his mind is searching for something to say. It is difficult, not because he can't think of anything lost to her but because she's asking him to open up once more. It took a long time for him to do so the first time alone.
"… when I was a child I would make small sculptures and gadgets out of scraps I found," he begins. "I would sell them for coin that I hid from my parents. I would use it for food, toys and sometimes even to go to the circus. I had found a bird's nest that I used to look in to see if the clever animal had found something shiny."
Clira smiles gently, but she doesn't say anything. He's not sure she hears him, if she's half-asleep or not, but he has no reason to stop yet.
"I told you about that once. You didn't seem to understand. I wasn't sure what it was that eluded you. My motives, my craft or perhaps even a lack of understanding about avian habits," he chuckles a bit. Her face had been so expressionless back then. It was difficult to understand her at the best of times. Very different from now, with her smiles coming frequent and easy.
A welcome change, he will admit.
"Of course, after I told you this I found a birds nest at my windowsill. I found it odd, especially since it was not even nesting season. But after that I found little things in there. Pieces of metal. Bits of rope. A bloodied arrowhead once. By the time I received a broken dagger, far too heavy for a bird to carry, I knew it was no feathery friend I had to thank for these gifts."
Soft, steady breathing fills the room as he stops for a moment. With a sigh he carefully rolls off to the side and stands up, straightening his clothes as he stays for a moment. Just a moment, he's allowed that isn't he?
"I made a little bird out of the scraps, small enough to pin to a piece of clothing, and laid it back into the nest." An exhale, a whisper of a laugh. "You wouldn't stop blushing when you noticed me staring at it as it sat on your coat next time we saw each other. I didn't need words to tease you."
He walks over to her side of the bed to pull the curtains across the window, reducing the little light that was left filtering into the room to darkness.
Then he hesitates, raises two fingers to his mouth. He lifts a quick kiss from his lips, and places it gently to her cheek.
"Sleep well, little magpie," he says before leaving the room
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so, I read the whole "House Tour (not the house we wanted, but the house we have)", and I loved it so much, and I asked a question after reading it because of the ending, so what was everyone's reaction of toys eating pizza for the first time?
Your First Ever Pizza Night
Synopsis: Angel has to teach the toys how to eat pizza. It's confusing.
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James' eyes were so wide you thought they would pop out of his head. You nervously smiled at him, feeling the eyes of the toys staring at you from inside the house. "Thank you for your work", you tell him, money in hand. "I, uhm, am sorry for how Catnap tried to scare you away".
"I-it's okay!", he shakes his head. "No big deal, don't worry, Angel".
You eye the group from behind. Catnap tilts his head, still not very trusting of the stranger. You figured that would be the tenth human he talks to in more than a decade. "Take care, okay?"
"You too", he takes the money, counts, and then sighs. You also sigh, giving him a pat in the back. "Man, you really scared everyone out there. I thought you had... You know".
"I've been clean for years. I wouldn't do that", you reassure him. "And now I have those guys to look out for".
Your friend chuckles. "Feeling the weight of parenting on your shoulders already?"
"Urgh, don't even let me start talking about it", you smile. "Okay, I'll head inside now. I don't think half of them know what pizza is".
You tell James your goodbyes, watching him leave. You feel guilty for having him deliver so many pizzas to you, but it is what it is, the kids (your kids) must be hungry. You prepare yourself mentally before entering the house, closing the front door:
"So! Who's hungry?"
Dogday adjusts himself in the sofa as most of the mini toys yell "me!", rushing towards you, including the mini huggy that was using him as an oversized pillow. You laugh as they swarm you, and you pick up Driver and Bunzo on your arms. The little green huggy stims her hands, while Bunzo climbs on your shoulders: "Show us what that pizza thing is! Show us!"
"Bunzo, you're going to fall if you keep like this", Long Legs warns him, stretching all the way from the other corner of the living room to shoosh the crowd away. One catbee blows a raspberry at her, annoyed. "Get away from them! They're going to fall if you guys keep on like this!", the same catbee from before repeats the gesture, but now a candy cat and a bron imitate her gesture. "Angel!"
"You heard her", your warn the little ones. "C'mon, guys".
They coo away, and you watch Catnap proudly looking after the mini critters, most of whom didn't swarm you. He really is their big brother, uh...?
"Okay, guys. Are you ready?"
Driver stims again as you enter the kitchen, piles of pizza boxes distributed in the counters. Delight is counting them, muttering numbers under her breath, and stops when she notices you: "We have 26 boxes for 80 of us! They may last up to a week if we are careful".
"... What?", you chuckle. "Delight, no. The Prototype gave me enough money to feed everyone for years to come, we don't need to ration our food. You can eat as much as you want to".
You grab the first box you find. Bunzo tries to climb your head to take a look, and you laugh. "Eat as much as we want to? I'm going to explode, then!"
You bring the box to the living room, knowing well the kids are waiting for you to take the first slice. You show the box to Dogday, currently incapable of leaving the sofa thanks to his surgery stitches still being fresh. He deserves to see the first slice, you figured.
"You seeing this, pup?"
"With my two eyes!", Dogday nods. Catnap has approached you, and, with a smile, you open the box: "Behold: Pizza!"
"OOOO!", Bunzo yells. Huggy, who was following you around like a shadow, claps his hands, surprised. Kissy is still holding Poppy, who copies Huggy's clapping.
"It's been so long since I saw a real pizza!", the doll smiles. "And it smells even better!"
"This one is pepperoni pizza. There's 8 slices in every box - you guys should all take one. Eat as much as you want to!"
You take a piece, offering it to Bunzo, who grabs from your hand and shoves it on his mouth. You try your best not to accidentally drop him or Driver thanks to your chukling as he tries to deal with the cheese hanging out from his mouth. "Is elishious! Wha is disss?"
"You're going to get food on Angel's hair", Long Legs politely lifts Bunzo up from your head, using her arm to hold him. "And that's called... Cheese".
"Elishious!", he jumps.
"Please try not to choke!", you offer the next slice to Dogday. The big puppy's eyes go wide, and he shakes his head.
"Give it to the others, Angel..."
"There's enough for everyone, dummy, now eat" you take another slice, giving it to Long Legs, who stared at Bunzo in horror as he was still trying to deal with the cheese. "Theeere you go".
The pink spider stares at her slice with a strange look. She eyes Bunzo, then Dogday, who was holding his own as if it were a delicate piece of ceramic, then opens her mouth, then closes it.
"You eat pizza like this, Long Legs", you grab a slice of your own, biting it and using your teeth and fingers to free yourself from the cheese. Still chewing, you add: "Use your hands to deal with the cheese, everyone, you guys don't want to put too much into your mouths or you'll end up choking on your own food!"
You offered the next slice to Kissy, who stared at it with sparkling eyes before taking her first bite. Huggy bites his in one go, and Driver takes the last one before Delight appears, giving you a new box, still of pepperoni.
"Thank you", you give her a nod. "C'mon, take a slice! You too, Driver".
The mini wuggy jumps from your shoulder, and Delight gives a slice to her first before taking one herself. She blinks many time. "Ooh... This is very... Interesting...?"
She gives it another bite.
"Lots of different tastes... And it's so warm and soft!"
You sigh, noticing Dogday had given his slice to a catbee. "Pizzas aren't exactly soft, but I guess they look like it, considering what you guys had to eat..."
You offer a slice to Catnap.
The feline lowers his head. "Savior, please feed the others first...", he asks. "They're hungrier than me".
"You and Dogday have a lot to learn, uh?", you shake your head. "Okay, kiddos, you heard your boss. There!", you put the box in the ground, watching as the critters stare at you, hesitant. "One slice for each, don't fight each other for more, we have a lot of boxes. Speaking of which, can someone grab the other box... Oh!"
Delight chuckles, one box in each hand. She's polite in the way she gives it to everyone, despite all her isolation. Huggy, on the other hand, is less careful thanks to his lack of proper coordination, but he manages to feed all the mini huggies with some help from Kissy.
Dogday only eats after he's sure every single other toy is doing so. By that point, you're sitting on the sofa, Poppy using a plate, knife and fork to each her own slice of pizza. Catnap merely stares.
"Oh... Ooooh!", the orange dog mutters. His tail is wagging. "A-Angel, this is incredible!"
"Nah, it's just pizza. You're going to have fancier food as soon as I get more groceries".
"Fancier food? Are... Are you sure?"
"The doctors are going to kill me if I don't give you all the nutritients", Dogday stares. "Not literally! It's just a joke!"
"Ah", he sighs, forcing himself to laugh. "Even fancier food, uh...?"
"More!", Bunzo yells, jumping up and down. "I ate two slices already, but I crave more! I think I'll explode!"
"Please don't explode", you mutter. "It hurts".
The bunny mischievously laughs, running towards the kitchen. You eye Catnap, who eyes you back with a head tilt.
"Aren't you going to eat?"
"I... Ate yesterday, savior".
You hear a growl coming from his stomach. "Your 'savior' wants you to eat. Go on, you gotta get those calories. No one should starve".
For the first time since the confrontation agains the Prototype, Catnap lowers his ears and fidgets, nervously looking away from you. Around him, the small critters all eat their own slices, some trying to comfort him with a headbonk or by cuddling next to him.
"Catnap", Dogday calls. "You need to set up a good example for... Them", he points to the critters. "They aren't going to eat more if they see you aren't doing so".
"You know well how our rules work, Dogday. They eat first. Me, second".
"And now you are outside PlayCo. and playing by my own rules, kitty", you bite another slice of pizza, before offering the box to Catnap. "Go on, even Dogday and Long Legs are doing so".
"..."
Catnap's stomach once again growls. Using his hand, he takes a single slice out of the remaining three, eating it in one bite. You patiently wait for his reaction.
His eyes become brighter. His tail curls and moves left and right, and his ears go up as well. He stares at you, asking for permission, and you nod. He eats his second one almost immediately, now using both of his hands so he can take more bites and savor the taste more.
You chuckle, grabbing another box next to you and opening it for him and Dogday to share. The two bigger critters have the same sparkle in their eyes, and both go to their next slice almost at the same time.
This... Feels nice. All of this "family" stuff. Seeing them light up and talk about how this ordinary pizza is the best thing in the entire world, how they are eating so much when only at their second slice. It feels nice. They really are acting like normal kids would.
Maybe we can indeed become the parent they need...?
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yanasyin · 15 hours
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What We Know (And What They Don't)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Synopsis: After getting fired from your job, all you wanted was to sulk in silence on the rooftops of Brooklyn. Too bad you caught the neighborhood web-slinger's eye. 1.1k words ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Warnings: Bad head-space description, abusive boss, brief thought of jumping off a building (blink and you'll miss it), not much though I don't think.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Contents: Gn!reader x Spiderman (any), fluff, SFW. A/n at the end.
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"Out! And this time stay out you useless bxtch!" The greasy brown, stained backdoor of Carlito's diner slammed shut. A harsh sigh escaped your throat. Today was just one of those days. You woke up late, got yelled at by your boss, and forgot half your tables' orders. You really hadn't meant to, it's just, everything was so loud. Spoons and forks clinking on chipped plates, raucous laughter, mindless chatter, and that damned child that wouldn't stop crying. This close to Christmas, the tables were constantly filled and the diner was constantly under-staffed.
Your boss improvised. With no over-time pay, most staff at the diner had to work at least 2 jobs to keep up with influx of customers this time of year. Truly a Christmas miracle everybody hadn't left yet. Honestly, it would've been a great move on your part to quit way before this, but you didn't have any options aside from this place, it got the bills paid and you off the streets.
Really, the customer that got you fired was already getting on your nerves from the beginning of your shift. You only lost it when he decided taking a photo up your shorts while you bent down to grab your dropped notebook was a good idea. he would've gotten away with it too had his flash not been on. Whirling around, you backhanded him so hard his dentures flew out. Unfortunately, this was the last straw for your boss, the customer was given a free meal, while you got your last paycheck.
There was no point getting mad now, what would it accomplish? Jobless, freezing, and alone, it was in your best interest to get out of the alley you were in asap. Your work uniform was your boss's taste in women, so in short, sexy, tight, and revealing. Your red shorts barely covered the beginning of your thighs, and the black fishnets underneath were basically decoration, thankfully you had a spare black tee at least. You didn't bring more than a hoodie today, since in the morning, before you left for work, the sun was shining and it was pleasantly warm.
Cursing every decision that had brought you to this point, you figured you might as well go to a scenic spot if you were going to sulk. Ducking out of the alleyway, you hastily made your way to your apartments fire escape a few blocks down. Gripping the icy rails, you silently climbed until your head was level with the top and hauled yourself over.
You stepped over until you were at the edge of the railing. From here, you could see the ant-sized pedestrians living going about their day. It kind of put your life into perspective, you were just another ant, lost in the throngs of people... Your life was kind of meaningless. Almost without thinking, your feet pushed closer to the edge. From this height, you wouldn't just be getting a few broken bones, you'd be dead if you jumped. You were a hairs breadth away from the edge, and the slight swaying sensation people got when they were really high up was getting to you. What if I... Before you could finish that thought, a near-silent whoosh sounded behind you.
Whirling around you were met with the Brooklyn's most famous vigilante. He looked almost casual leaning against the rooftop door, but there was a slight tension in his stance, as if he was waiting for you to do something.
"A little high up to be contemplating life don't you think?" He murmured with a teasing lilt to his voice. You could feel your neck getting warm as you realized what he thought you were going to do, and rushed out an explanation.
"I wasn't! I just had a sh!tty day is all. The view here at night is beautiful so I thought I'd cheer myself up a bit" He titled his head at your response, taking a moment to consider your words before sauntering over and plopping down on the edge of the building.
"Care to join me? There's plenty of room." You hesitated, but plopped down anyway, after all who'd turn down the chance to sulk next to Spider-man? Not you that's for sure.
Spidey's head tilted minutely in your direction, before asking lightly "You know, I've been told I'm a great listener." You blinked in surprise... That was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Before you knew it you were spilling the day's events with fervor, finding comfort in his low hums and sympathetic ah's.
"-nd he really should've retired 10 years ago, but he's still up and kicking! And now I have to find another damn job just so I'm not out on the streets." Spidey had been staring at you silently for the past few minutes now, and as you paused to catch your breath he spoke.
"Can I kiss you?" You reeled back in shock, he seemed a bit surprised at his own boldness too if the slight widening of the eyes on his mask was any indication, he didn't back down though and hurried to elaborate.
"You looked a little lonely, and I won't say you don't smoking in your current outfit, but I mostly wanted to cheer you up." While he spoke he had started to slowly lean towards you, but stopping a few inches from your face, waiting for your permission. A slow nod was all he need before he was tugging the mask up over his nose, revealing soft lips, before his mouth pressed to yours sweetly.
You had expected a kiss with Spider-man to be fierce and passionate, considering he was someone constantly defying rules and swinging free in the city, this kiss was passionate but it was soft. He kissed you like a lover would, lightly tilting your chin towards him with the tips of his fingers, before using one hand to hold the back of your head, and the other to cup your face.
You could have kept kissing him for ages if the burning need for oxygen didn't take over. You pulled away breathless and gasping, before taking a look at his slightly heaving chest, diving back for seconds.
After the both of you were flushed and drunk on the others lips, Spider-man, tugged his mask back down and you had the feeling he was grinning at you.
"Somebody seems to be in better spirits." He goaded. You huffed a laugh before smiling. You turned to the side to compose yourself, before turning back and seeing empty space next to the space he had previously filled.
Confused you looked up and down the building, but didn't catch sight of him. Disappointment pooled in your chest, but just before you left for the fire escape, you noticed a small sticky note with a hastily scribbled number on it, and a call me! underneath in chicken scratch. You would have ignored it if not for the tiny spider drawn like a certain somebody's suit on the back. Maybe it wasn't that bad of a day after all.
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A/n: I lost the ask :( but this is for the anon who requested a spiderverse fic! it's mostly me yapping but I hope you enjoy <33
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thorraborinn · 1 day
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hello there! today i came across a claim that sort of baffled me. someone said that they believed the historical norse heathens viewed their own myths literally. i was under the impression that the vast majority of sources we have are christian sources, so it seems pretty hard to back that up. is there any actual basis for this claim? thanks in advance for your time!
Sorry for the delay, I've been real busy lately and haven't been home much. Even after making you wait I'm still going to give a copout answer.
I think the most basic actual answer is that it's doubtful that someone has a strong basis to make that claim, and the same would probably go for someone claiming they didn't take things literally. I think we just don't know, and most likely, it was mixed-up bits of both literal and non-literal belief, and which parts were literal and which parts weren't varied from person to person. We have no reason so suppose that there was any compulsion to believe things in any particular way.
About Christians being the interlocutors of a lot of mythology, this is really a whole separate question. On one hand there's the question of whether they took their myths literally, and on the other is entirely different question about whether or not we can know what those myths were. Source criticism in Norse mythology is a pretty complicated topic but the academic consensus is definitely that there are things we can know for sure about Norse myth, and a lot more that we can make arguments for. For instance the myth of Thor fishing for Miðgarðsormr is attested many times, not only by Snorri but by pagan skálds and in art. Myths of the Pagan North by Christopher Abram is a good work about source criticism in Norse mythology.
Though this raises another point, because the myth of Thor fishing is not always the same. Just like how we have a myth of Thor's hammer being made by dwarves, and a reference to a different myth where it came out of the sea. Most likely, medieval Norse people were encountering contradictory information in different performances of myth all the time. So while that leaves room for at least some literal belief, it couldn't be a rigid, all-encompassing systematic treatment of all myth as literal. We have good reason to believe they changed myths on purpose and that it wasn't just memory errors.
I know you're really asking whether this one person has any grounds for their statement, and I've already answered that I don't think they do. But this is an interesting thought so I'm going to keep poking at it. I'm not sure that I'm really prepared to discuss this properly, but my feeling is that this is somehow the wrong question. I don't know how to explain this with reference to myth, so I'm going to make a digression, and hope that you get the vibe of what I'm getting at by analogy. Edward Burnett Tylor (1832–1917) described animism in terms of beliefs, "belief in spiritual beings," i.e. a belief that everything (or at least many things) has a soul or spirit. But this is entirely contradicted by later anthropology. Here's an except from Pantheologies by Mary Jane Rubenstein, p. 93:
their animacy is not a matter of belief but rather of relation; to affirm that this tree, that river, or the-bear-looking-at-me is a person is to affirm its capacity to interact with me—and mine with it. As Tim Ingold phrases the matter, “we are dealing here not with a way of believing about the world, but with a condition of living in it.”
In other words, "belief" doesn't even really play into it, whether or not you "believe" in the bear staring you down is nonsensical, and if you can be in relation with a tree then the same goes for that relationality; "believing" in it is totally irrelevant or at least secondary. Myths are of course very different and we can't do a direct comparison here, but I have a feeling that the discussion of literal versus nonliteral would be just as secondary to whatever kind of value the myths had.
One last thing I want to point out is that they obviously had the capacity to interpret things through allegory and metaphor because they did that frequently. This is most obvious in dream interpretations in the sagas. Those dreams usually convey true, prophetic information, but it has to be interpreted by wise people who are skilled at symbolic interpretation. I they ever did this with myths, I'm not aware of any trace they left of that, but we can at least be sure that there was nothing about the medieval Norse mind that confined it to literalism.
For multiple reasons this is not an actual answer but it's basically obligatory to mention that some sagas, especially legendary or chivalric sagas, were referred to in Old Norse as lygisögur, literally 'lie-sagas' (though not pejoratively and probably best translated just as 'fictional sagas'). We know this mostly because Sverrir Sigurðsson was a big fan of lygisögur. But this comes from way too late a date to be useful for your question.
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ruthlesscore · 3 days
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hello !
i’ve been enjoying your writing for sf6 lately, and i was wondering if you’d be able to write anything for ed?
i don’t have any specific scenario, but can it be with an x reader insert? haha i’m just craving any sort of ed content tbh
thanks !
Ed x Hacker!Reader - Meeting Ed
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- This is my first request for SF6! I was already planning on making a Ed related post so this is like killing two birds with one stone! I hope you enjoy! <3 -
You weren't a Street Fighter. You had more brains than those ruffians that go around beating up anything that moves. As an intellectual, you're enrolled in college to peruse your dream in technology. You had friends here and there, like Li-Fen, who lived in Chinatown, and some people who worked in SiRN.
You were from a working class household, only 23, constantly having to pay off your tuition. You didn't have money to afford food sometimes. You started picking up part-time jobs, some were odd, others were impractical. They never lasted long. You frequently got fired for being late or sleeping on the job. Your excuse?
"School's got me brunt out. I'm sorry, it won't happen again!"
and it didn't happen again because now youre jobless. Sitting at home, rotting away in front of your computer, you decided you needed a new job and fast. Something more practical that didn't require you to leave the comfort of your dorm.
You serached for a week or so before coming across this group called Neo Shadoloo. You've heard about Shadoloo from your many conversations with Li-Fen. The experiments they conducted on innocent children disgust you. You were glad they were gone. But if Shadoloo was gone, who the was Neo Shadoloo?
Adding the phone number to your contacts, you messaged the individual names Ed.
I saw the flyer for Neo Shadaloo. You guys hiring?
You got a response almost immediately.
Hell yeah we are. You gotta have some sort of experience in tech. You a hacker? You legit?
Yeah. What do you need done?
Just getting information from certain databases. Anything about Shadaloo, M. Bison, the experiments, or where the remnants might be. I'll send the pay to you later.
And that's the day you started cyber attacks for this strange organization. At first, you felt guilty about this. Then you were uncertain about the job because what you were doing was illegal. But then you looked at the pay and god DAMN. Who cares about morals when this shady organization is sending you 700 zenny per task.
After your first couple of jobs, Ed started to message you about things outside of work, like the history of Shadaloo, sightseeing in Metro, your studies at university, and personal philosophies. Sometimes, when you're up at night, you'd receive a text from him. You don't know if it was because he was under the influence, or that men usually act this way past 10, but he would send messages that were so strange. You couldn't tell if he was flirting or he was telling a bad joke.
You single? Of course you are. Nobody born in the shitty ass city will treat you right.
Ed, what the hell are you talking about?
You like Bratwurst? Ever had one? I could give you one.
Please go to sleep, Ed.
Only if you're sleeping with me.
Promise you'll make me breakfast in the morning?
Yeah, you're delirious. Gtb, ____.
You didn't know him personally, so the meaning is still up for grabs. The morning after these messages, Ed wouldn't even bring it up, if anything, he was avoiding it. Maybe he was under the influence.
After working for Neo Shadaloo for about 3 months, constantly messaging Ed and feeding into his nightly banter, you received a message from Ed.
Hey. I need you to come pick something up from me. It's a hard drive we need decoded. I'll be at the station at Beat Square tonight. Pull through.
You didn't even answer the message. You put your shoes on and headed out the door that night. Of course you were carrying your handy-dandy knife, as you were no fan of fighting. Hopefully no one tries to mug you or something. Heading down into the station and getting onto the train, you ran into a problem. What the hell does Ed even look like? You've never seen a photo of him and he's never seen you. How are you going to meet with someone you don't even know? Then there was a second problem, one running right towards you, a man and Shadaloo fighters.
The man held onto the overhead railing as the train shook. You lost your footing and fell onto the window. Groaning in a tinge of pain, you sit down. The man paid no attention to you. He looked at the Shadaloo fighters.
"Bring it on."
The Shadaloo fighters tried striking him. He dodged with boxer like reflexes. You silently watched the fight go down, completely dumbfounded by how brutal street fights were. God, it was disgusting. You get it, Shadaloo was a bad organization enabling bad behavior, but doing something as petty as strert fighting? Surely, there was a more mature, more intelligent way of handling affairs, right? With god like reflexes, the boxer hit all 3 of the Shadaloo fighters, knocking them to the ground. He managed to maintain his footing, even though the train was moving so unsteadily.
All of a sudden a big fighter came out, pushing the smaller ones out of the way. You pull your knees up to your chest, hoping you'd appear so small that neither the blond boxer or the Shadaloo fighter wouldn't see you. The big one tries to grab the boxer when the train car shook. The boxer's fist was suddenly engulfed in purple flames. Punching the Shadaloo fighter to the other side of the car and using some sort of supernatural ability to pull the fighter back to him, he punched the fighter's face into the ground. There's no denying it. That was Ed and he was using Psycho Power. He didn't even look your way. Once the train stopped, he quickly got off.
Once you got off the train, you quickly looked around for him. You see him and hurriedly walked over to him. With your hood up and mask on, you stopped a few feet away from Ed and showed him your messages with him. He glanced at the message before taking the hard drive out.
"So you're ____, huh. Finally got to put a name to a face."
He looks you up and down.
"Still down for that Bratwurst?"
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wherela · 11 months
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one of those crying in the shower kind of days
#my 'best friend' stood me up today#and by stood me up i don't mean canceled last minute i mean didn't show up and only responded to my calls and texts after 45 min#why? she was hanging out with some guy (she met him last week. he's not a christian.) and lost track of time#she's also initiated no contact with me over the last few weeks#the explenation was she thought i was busy with my thesis. as if you can't check in on someone when they're busy#she also gosted me for 3 days (like a month ago??) cause she was asked to share at student group and i couldn't go CAUSE I WAS SICK#I'm just so tired of it at this point#but it's also made me realise i dont really have any close friends#i have lots of friends. sure. and i trust them too. but it's not the kind of close where i can write to them when I've got a problem#like maybe I'd tell them live if they asked me? but I wouldn't really write to them it would just be weird#and so who do I tell that I met S's parents yesterday and even though so many things have happened since then already thats the only one#I can think about???? or that he actually CALLED ME afterwards specifically to tell me what they thought of our church#or that his mom apparently asked him if our relationship was still weird and he said 'yes' and I've been overthinking it cause i thought we#were finally okay and normal and genuinely just friends?#or that his mom said my look is that i dress vintage and it made me SO HAPPY!! that's my look!!! that's how I'm recognisable!!!#the answer is nobody. i have no one to tell :(#mine#s#I'm sorry I guess I had to vent this prolly turned out really really long
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thotsfortherapy · 1 year
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bruh I had a social for my club and my housemate ruined the vibes so bad like. The way I feel like I need to send out a mass apology for their behaviour now :////
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ktempestbradford · 2 months
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I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me
It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:
At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.
On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."
Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:
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But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:
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It gets worse.
"Tempest, how could it possibly--"
source of this video that also includes this charming description:
Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'
There is already a meme.
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Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:
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Who has already done an interview!
As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!
Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.
The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.
Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!
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I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.
Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:
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I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.
Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:
Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future? A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.
Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.
Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.
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I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.
This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.
Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:
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With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"
"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:
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There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.
The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.
Even better, this weirdly grainy image?
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From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.
If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.
As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.
And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...
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This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.
Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.
As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...
Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.
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You cannot make this stuff up.
But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.
Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.
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HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.
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tinyluvs · 10 months
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imagine dating spencer and you come to visit or something and make him so distracted that he literally can’t info dump on something and the rest of the team is just shocked
yes yes, a hundred times yes 🤭 thank you so much!
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catching a glimpse of yourself in the elevator mirror was the last thing you needed right now. you were covered in paint, your dungarees showing up every coloured streak and hand print against the light denim. you're sure there's paint in your hair but you don't have time to dwell on it, you're late
you'd got stressed, painting your boyfriends apartment on your own, lost track of time and then didn't have the time to change before running out of the apartment, just about managing to remember to grab yours and spencer's lunch on the way
"i'm so sorry i'm late," you sigh and frown as you rush through the bullpen to the collection of desks you're oh so familiar with, "please excuse the state of me,"
spencer turns at the sound of your voice, "hi sweetheart," he hums, looking up at you just as you dip to kiss him quickly before pushing the bag of food onto his lap
"hey," you smile softly at your boyfriend before turning to his colleagues, "hey guys, how are we all?" you ask, getting a mixed bunch of replies back
"how's painting?" derek laughs, looking at your appearance and the state of your clothes
you slide onto spencer's desk, pulling your legs up to sit cross legged, "standing six feet up a ladder trying to hold a tray of paint and a brush is hard, i've nearly fallen off twice," you huff,
spencer hands you the sandwich he knows is yours and then seemingly looks at you properly for the first time since you've been there, "hey," he says, almost breathlessly
"hello?" you question, head tilting slightly, "you've already said hi," you say, looking at emily and jj who just snicker and shrug their shoulders but spencer doesn't reply, "oh before i forget!"
your boyfriend watches you carefully as you produce a piece of paper from the tiny pocket on the front of your dungarees, flapping it around to unfold it, your other hand busy clutching your food
"the living room is next, i need to know how much paint to buy," you explain, handing the paper to him, "the cans are one litre or five litres, i can't figure it out"
truth be told you hadn't bothered to try and work it out, knowing spencer would be able to reel off the answer like it's nothing, naturally, he knew the exact measurements of every wall in his house
the boy stares up at you blankly, big brown eyes soft and sparkly. your cheeks heat up under his gaze, your eyebrows raising slightly, "spence?" you nudge him with your knee
he jumps ever so slightly, his head shaking a bit, "hmm?" he asks before only just registering you've handed him something, his eyes scan over it, "oh!" he blushes, turning his chair to face his desk
"what colour are you doing the living room?" jj asks while she stabs at her salad like it's offending her. you'd consulted the girls with all of the decorating developments.
"a light brown i think, we have so much to hang on the walls," you pause to swallow, "so something neutral," you finish with a slight nod
a door opening to your side grabs your attention, aaron coming out of his office with his lunch. he comes down into the bullpen, sitting on the edge of emily's desk, "the paint fighting back?" he asks you, slight smile creeping over his face
you roll your eyes at him, playfully, while the other laugh at your expense, "very funny but i don't see any of you offering to help"
penelope scoffs, "actually, i did" and she was right, however her idea of getting wine drunk and decorating had been quickly shut down by spencer, the only input he's actually offered up in the whole process
giggling, you turn back to your boyfriend who's been far too quiet, "boy wonder?" you say gently, pushing your fingers through his hair, "got an answer for me?"
usually he would have an answer within seconds, his minutes of silence making you frown, he turns to you with the same frown painted across his face, "i don't know," he says
people around you gasp, loudly too, "what do you mean, you don't know?" emily almost chokes on her lunch, sitting forward to gawp at the boy
"i do not know how much paint we need" he confirms
derek scrambles, pulling his phone out of his pocket, "say it again, i need record of this moment" he pleads while garcia smacks him
"well there's a first," david says, wandering over after hearing spencer say i don't know for possibly the first time, ever
your boy stares at the paper in his hand and then up at you, confused, "i have to go and work it out, excuse me" he says, rushed, as he stands and takes off towards circle table room
after a moment of shocked silence you turn to the team who are all staring directly at you, "i'll go check on him, i wonder what's wrong?" you say to no one in particular as you hop off of the desk
"i think i know," jj sing songs and the others hum in agreement as you hop up the stairs and along the walkway into the room.
when you get into the room spencer is stood in front of the biggest whiteboard you've possibly ever seen, marker in hand though the board is still empty of his handwriting
"spence? angel?" you say quietly, staring at his back as he starts to write the measurements of the walls in his living room, "everything alright?"
he hums, not turning to look at you as he continues to work through the problem, "yeah, fine, just can't think properly when you're around," he admits, "not when you look like that," he turns slightly to look at you
"oh, do you want me to leave?" you're sad, its obvious in your voice. nervously you start fiddling with the sleeves of your sweatshirt
your boyfriend gasps, "no, no, honey that's not what i meant!" he says, holding his arm out. you slide into the space, head resting on his shoulder, "you're so beautiful and i love you so much, so so much, my brain just switches off when you’re around"
"really?" you giggle, looking up at him. he hums and nods his head, a light blush rushes up his neck before taking over his cheeks, "i love you too,"
he's taller than you, forcing you onto your tip toes to kiss him, not caring when someone, emily, whoops from the bullpen. gentle hands squeeze at your waist, while you hold his face with one hand, the other resting on his shoulder
"three litres," spencer mumbles against your mouth, you pull away with a sight hum, forgetting what you'd asked of him, "you need three but it's cheaper to just buy five and have left over, now come back" he huffs, his arm wrapping tighter around you to pull you back in for another kiss
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thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!
❥ spencer reid masterlist !!
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violetrainbow412-blog · 10 months
Text
Decoy [S. R.]
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
word count: 6.9k
summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.
warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension
Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case
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You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.
You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.
All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.
But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.
"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.
“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”
"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"
“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.
“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.
Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.
“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”
"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”
“We can use our own team”
"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"
"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"
"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”
“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.
"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.
Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids. 
You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.
“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it. 
"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.
"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.
He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.
At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.
The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.
Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.
"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.
“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"
"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying” 
"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.
You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.
We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.
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As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.
Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.
Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.
When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.
"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"
"And meanwhile what do we do?"
"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"
“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.
“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"
“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"
“When the suspect approaches, yes”
"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.
My God, could that man make you more nervous?
When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.
"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"
"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."
"What's wrong with my hair?"
"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"
“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”
"This is not a play"
"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”
"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.
“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”
“I actually know some good ones”
"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."
"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"
"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?
Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.
“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.
You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.
“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.
“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."
"Why you said so?"
“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.
"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."
“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.
"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"
"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."
You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.
“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."
"I am nervous"
"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"
"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"
"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"
"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"
"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"
"Smooch me?"
"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.
"That's not a picnic, Y/N"
You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.
You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.
"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.
"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.
"Is that our unsub?"
"It is"
You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.
"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.
“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"
"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.
You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?
"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.
You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.
“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.
You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements. 
It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.
There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.
The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.
“He started the trailer. He's going to go"
Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.
Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.
"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.
"Take... what?"
"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"
But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you. 
He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit. 
His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.
You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.
Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.
As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.
"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.
That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin. 
And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.
You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.
Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.
From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.
"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.
"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.
You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.
"How are you?"
"Very good, excellent" you stammered.
You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.
After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.
"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.
“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"Don't you even dare make fun of this"
“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."
"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.
Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.
"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?" 
"Fine, and you?"
"Fine too"
You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.
"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"
"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?
Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.
"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"
“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”
"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."
“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.
While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.
"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.
“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”
“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."
"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"
“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"
"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"
Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.
“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”
“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."
You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.
"Then I'd love to, Reid."
“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"
“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.
It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.
“Today?”
"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.
“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”
It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.
Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.
"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"
"It did"
"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.
Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.
"Do you want to go after work, then?"
“Sounds good to me”
Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.
So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.
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writingouthere · 3 months
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singlemom!reader x neighbor!sukuna. you miss having a baby and Sukuna is dying from a combination of your sexual tension, his lowkey(highkey) baby fever and the drudgery of attending a child's birthday party
cw: Sukuna's breeding kink, red flags are present and accounted for, no one gets laid tho so sad face. this actually ended up being way more sincere and heartfelt than I intended but honestly very typical of me
"Oh we're not together, Sukuna's just been letting me and Bug crash while we look for an apartment."
"Oh he's not my boyfriend, we're just friends!"
"He's actually not Bug's dad. No, no. But, they get along really well. She enjoys having someone else to hang out with aside from me, I think."
Your laughter after the last one plays on repeat as he goes to grab the two of you some refreshments. Sukuna feels like he's living the world's worst version of groundhog day, except instead of being some sad loser who relives the same day over and over, he's apparently a sad loser who is going to live the same conversation over and over again.
"Fuck this shit."
"Um, excuse me but could you watch your language. This is a kid's birthday party." Sukuna wants to ask the bitch who is correcting a grown man's language if he would mind watching his own fucking business but you seem to care about what these losers think and he won't make life difficult for you.
If he happens to step on the guy's foot as he leaves with two cups and a juice box caught in his elbow, well, his steel toed boots need the exercise.
Sukuna knew that if any of his acquaintances, he didn't have friends after all, could see him now, they would die laughing. Die ,because he would kill them for laughing, but fuck he couldn't even really blame them, even in his hypothetical.
Once upon a time, Sukuna was a feared criminal. People pissed themselves when he cornered them in a dark alley. Other bad guys would look at him and say, "wow that guy's a real piece of shit" and now look at him. Stuck at some three year old's birthday party. One more kidzpop butchering of an already shitty song away from committing another felony.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he knew he was at least getting some pussy out of it, but he had just spent the past two hours hearing you deny him to anyone who asked and it was really starting to get to him.
He knew he was being a little bitch about it, and he wasn't upset just because you weren't fucking him. He was upset that all the things you were telling people, they were technically true. He was just letting you and your daughter crash. He was just your friend, not your boyfriend. Even the comments about him not being Bug's dad, but him being positioned as some kind of really invested babysitter, those might have stung more than the ones about your relationship but you thought that was true too.
Thinking about the kid made him look for her, not that Sukuna ever wasn't aware of where you and your daughter were. It had become instinct before he was even aware of it.
Bug was laughing with some kids he recognized from daycare and others from their regular trips to the park. Her happiness was contagious and Sukuna found his lips twitching up at the ends despite his shitty mood.
Your daughter's eyes found him from across the playground. "kuna!" she called, waving her little hand at him. He waved back with his available hand and made his way towards her. She met him halfway, her little legs unsteady on the wood chips but she didn't seem to notice. She was always like that when she saw him, she ran fearlessly. Maybe she just trusted he'd catch her.
Was it so wrong of him that he didn't like the reminders she wasn't his. That it stung, not just because of his feelings but because it just couldn't be true. He might not have fathered her, but fuck anyone who said this little girl wasn't his.
"I got you a juice, you've been running around so much you gotta be thirsty."
"Not thirsty," Bug argued leaning into him. He held up his hands that were holding the grown up drinks for the two of you, and moved the package still lodged in the crease of his elbow towards the petulant toddler. "Take it, or I'll drink it."
Bug stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed it. She struggled to get the wrapping off the straw and Sukuna didn't even notice what he was doing until she had the straw stretched out towards him and he was pulling the wrapper off with his teeth. He spit it out on the ground as your daughter gave him a polite thank-you and then walked away, sipping her juice as she went to catch up with her friends.
What had become of him?
"Need a hand?" You smile at him and Sukuna hands over your cup before taking a sip of his own. There was unfortunately no alcohol in it but drinking it occupied his mouth before he acted like a pussy and asked you, "what are we?" or "should we get married?" or something equally as pathetic.
"God, I want a baby."
Sukuna almost spit out his drink but he manages to tone it down to just a little cough before turning to look at you. You don't even seem a little embarrassed which is just infuriating. Sukuna's about to make a suggestion on how he can help with that when you sigh and point to where some loser is holding their ugly baby.
"Aren't babies just the cutest, I miss when Bug was that age."
Oh, so this was just you looking at other people's red-faced brats and feeling nostalgic and was not in fact a call to action. Sukuna rolled his eyes and leaned back on the hand closest to you so he didn't touch you as he was so tempted to do these days.
"That baby, like all babies, is hideous. All they do is cry, shit themselves and vomit and I'm not even sure Bug is the exception to that and she's the best kid there is."
You look touched at his affection for your daughter but also fired up on behalf of babies everywhere.
"You can't just say a baby is hideous, Sukuna. Those are the Zenin's. Bug is friends with some of them."
"Well are the older ones cuter, because that baby looks like someone fucked one of those hairless cats."
"Sukuna!" you hiss but he sees you smile, despite yourself. "Okay, maybe that baby isn't like the cutest baby-"
"Hideous."
You continue after smacking his arm. "But Bug was cute, okay. And I'm not just saying that because I'm her mom." You take out your phone and quickly swipe until you get to what you're looking for. "See, cute baby."
Sukuna grabs your phone and looks. It's not the first picture he's seen of a young Bug and he's taken his share of photos of her himself, but he finds himself taken in by it anyway.
It has to be a picture from when Bug was really young, she still had the scrunched up, red face that he associates with newborns. But he thinks you're right, she's still cute. He doesn't know if it's because he knows that baby will grow up to be your daughter, but he finds his thumb caressing her little baby cheeks, the wisps of hair he can see peaking out from where she's wrapped in a baby blanket. It's then he sees she's not alone in the picture and there's a different version of you holding her.
The thing that stands out to him is how tired you look. He thinks this couldn't have been too long after you gave birth but still, he wondered if you'd gotten any rest those first few months. You still didn't like talking about your ex, or the circumstances that had led you to his apartment, but Sukuna knew that chances are you were taking care of Bug single handedly and that couldn't have been easy, cutest kid or not.
"She was beautiful, she still is." He reluctantly hands the phone back to you and you look at the picture again, tears building up in your eyes.
"She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I-I wish that the circumstances were different in how I got her. Sometimes, I wonder how I'll explain everything to her when she's older. She just deserves so much better than him, you know?"
"You both do." Sukuna reaches over and brushes away one of the tears that had managed to fall down your cheek. He leaves his hand there a moment, holding your cheek in his palm, just appreciating the warmth.
"Do you want any?"
"What?" Sukuna isn't sure what you're talking about anymore. He can only see your lips right in front of him, the way that your eyelashes brush against your cheek as you blink faster and faster.
"Babies, do you want any?"
Something short circuits in Sukuna's brain and he wants to say, fuck yes.
He wants to tell you that he thinks about it every day. Every time you put Bug on your hip or send him youtube videos of hairstyles you want to try on her. Whenever it's late at night, and little feet pad out of your room and Bug asks him in the loudest whisper he's ever heard, if he can get her some water because she's so thirsty.
He thinks about it when the sun streams through the curtains of his apartment in the morning and it lights up your hair as you move throughout the kitchen, a force of nature, a creature from somewhere far too good to have ended up here with him.
He thinks about it when the three of you go out and people just assume you're a family, because of course you're a family. When you and Bug play some made up game, or Bug gets tired even though she denies it and he carries her sleeping form against his chest. When he holds her in his lap on the subway and you lean to rest your head on his shoulder and he feels like this, this is what he's always wanted.
He's not all pure and good though, because he thinks about it late at night in his bedroom too. After a day of your smiles, of seeing your thighs stretch out of those sleep shorts you started wearing when the weather warmed up, whenever he remembers the feel and smell of your panties when he's lucky enough to find a pair in the laundry basket, he thinks about how the two of you would make some really cute fucking babies.
He's imagined it a million ways. He's imagined you telling him you've gone off your birth control and you need him now after he takes you out on an anniversary dinner. Or him crowding you up against the kitchen counter and you begging him to put a baby in you.
His favorite fantasy is currently one where you get so carried away when you finally finally fuck that you don't ask him to wear a condom and he spends the whole night making sure you're nice and good and full of him and when you tell him a few weeks later you missed your period, he'll let you freak out. But then he'll tell you that he'll take good care of you, and Bug, and your soon to be little one and he'll finally have you, all of you and once you have your second, he'll knock you up again, as many times as he can because there could never be too many mini-you's running around.
At this point, Sukuna remembers he's talking to you, the real you and he swallows a few times before he speaks.
"I do," he says simply but something must show on his face because you're looking at him in a way you never have before. He hears your breath hitch and he leans in to kiss you, and you smell so good and his thoughts are consumed by the little family he just knows you're going to have when suddenly he's pelted by a variety of sharp, little objects.
Sukuna immediately holds up his arm to shield you from what he now sees is a barrage of wood chips which are being thrown at you by an army of toddlers, including your daughter.
You immediately get up and start talking to the kids about the danger of throwing what are basically large future splinters at people's faces and Sukuna is contemplating the murder of every child that isn't his own when you turn to look at him.
You're not just looking at him, you're seeing him and oh. Maybe he would be getting laid tonight, after all.
The slow burn is almost done folks.
thank you to the amazing reception to this series and the one-shot I posted(which there will be a prequel of soon!). it's literally so insane. Masterlist will be up tomorrow which I hope helps with accessibility!
edit: masterlist is up!
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maniculum · 7 months
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Medieval Scorpions Effortpost
So yesterday I reblogged this post featuring an 11th-century depiction of the Apocalypse Locusts from Revelations, noting the following incongruity as another medieval scorpion issue:
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The artist, as you can see, has interpreted "tails like scorpions" as meaning "glue cheerful-looking snakes to their butts".
Anyway, it occurred to me that the medieval scorpion thing might not be as widely known as I think it is, and that Tumblr would probably enjoy knowing about it if it isn't known already. So, finding myself unable to focus on the research I'm supposed to be doing, I decided to write about this instead. I'll just go ahead and put a cut here.
As we can see in the image above, at least one artist out there thought a "scorpion" was a type of snake. Which makes it difficult to draw "tails like scorpions", because a snake's tail is not that distinctive or menacing (maybe rattlesnakes, but they don't have those outside the Americas). So they interpreted "tails like scorpions" as "the tail looks like a whole snake complete with head".
Let me tell you. This is not a problem unique to this illustration.
See, people throughout medieval Europe were aware of scorpions. As just alluded to, they are mentioned in the Bible, and if the people producing manuscripts in medieval Europe knew one thing, it was Stuff In Bible. They're also in the Zodiac, which medieval Europe had inherited through classical sources. However, let's take a look at this map:
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That's Wikipedia's map of the native range of the Scorpiones order, i.e., all scorpion species. You may notice something -- the range just stops at a certain northern latitude. Pretty much all of northern Europe is scorpion-free. If you lived in the north half of Europe, odds were good you had never seen a scorpion in your life. But if you were literate or educated at all, or you knew they were a thing, because you'd almost certainly run across them being mentioned in texts from farther south. And those texts wouldn't bother to explain what a scorpion was, of course -- everyone knows scorpions, right? When was the last time you stopped to explain What Is Spiders?
So medieval writers and artists in northern Europe were kind of stuck. There was all this scorpion imagery and metaphor in the texts they liked to work from, but they didn't really know what a scorpion was. Writers could kind of work around it (there's a lot of "oh, it's a venomous creature, moving on"), but sometimes they felt the need to break it down better. For this, of course, they'd have to refer to a bestiary -- but due to Bestiary Telephone and the persistent need of bestiary authors to turn animals into allegories, one of the only visual details you got on scorpions was that they... had a beautiful face, which they used to distract people in order to sting them.
And look. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but I would say that a scorpion's face has significant aesthetic appeal only for a fairly small segment of the population. I'm sure you could get an entomologist to rhapsodize about it a bit, but your average person on the street will not be entranced by the face of a scorpion. So this did not help the medieval Europeans in figuring out how to depict scorpions. There was also some semantic confusion -- see, in some languages (such as Old and Middle English), "worm" could be a general term for very small animals of any kind. But it also could mean "serpent".* So there were some, like our artist at the top of the post, who were pretty sure a scorpion was a snake. This was probably helped along by the fact that "venomous" was one of the only things everyone knew about them, and hey, snakes are venomous. Also, Pliny the Elder had floated the idea that there were scorpions in Africa that could fly, and at least one author (13th-century monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus) therefore suggested that they had feathers. I don't see that last one coming up much, I just share it because it's funny to me.
*English eventually resolved this by borrowing the Latin vermin for very small animals, using the specialized spelling wyrm for big impressive mythical-type serpents, and sticking with the more specific snake for normal serpents.
Some authors, like the anonymous author of the Ancrene Wisse, therefore suggested that a scorpion was a snake with a woman's face and a stinging tail. (Everyone seemed to be on the same page with regards to the fact that the sting was in the tail, which is in fact probably the most recognizable aspect of scorpions, so good job there.) However, while authors could avoid this problem, visual artists could not. And if you were illustrating a bestiary or a calendar, including a scorpion was not optional. So they had to take a shot at what this thing looked like.
And so, after this way-too-long explanation, the thing you're probably here for: inaccurate medieval drawings of scorpions. (There are of course accurate medieval drawings of scorpions, from artists who lived in the southern part of Europe and/or visited places where scorpions lived; I'm just not showing you those.) And if you find yourself wondering, "how sure are you that that's meant to be a scorpion?" -- all of these are either from bestiaries or from calendars that include zodiac illustrations.
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11th-century England, MS Arundel 60. (Be honest, without the rest of this post, if I had asked you to guess what animal this was supposed to be, would you have ever guessed “scorpion”?)
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12th-century Germany, "Psalter of Henry the Lion". (Looks a bit undercooked. Kind of fetal.)
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12th-century France, Peter Lombard's Sententiae. (Very colorful, itsy bitsy claws, what is happening with that tail?)
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12th-century England, "The Shaftesbury Psalter". (So a scorpion is some sort of wyvern with a face like a duck, correct?)
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13th-century France, Thomas de Cantimpré's Liber de natura rerum. (I’d give them credit for the silhouette not being that far off, but there’s a certain bestiary style where all the animals kind of look like that. Also note how few of these have claws.)
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13th-century England, "The Bodley Bestiary". (Mischievous flying squirrel impales local man’s hand, local man fails to notice.)
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13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs.)
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13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Wait, no, it’s a baby theropod, and it has two legs. (Yes, this is the same manuscript, that’s not an error, this artist did four scorpions and no two are the same.))
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13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Actually it’s a lizard with tiny ears and it has four legs.)
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13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Now that we’re at the big fancy illustration, I think I’ve got it — it’s like that last one, but two legs, longer ears, and a less goofy face. Also I’ve decided it’s not pink anymore, I think that was the main problem.)
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13th-century England, MS Kk.4.25. (A scorpion is a flat crocodile with a bear’s head.)
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13th-century England, "The Huth Psalter". (Wyvern but baby! Does not seem to be enjoying biting its own tail.)
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13th-century England, MS Royal 1 D X. (This triangular-headed gentlecreature gets the award for “closest guess at correct limb configuration”. If two of those were claws, I might actually believe this artist had seen a scorpion before, or at least a picture of one.)
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13th-century England, "The Westminster Psalter". (A scorpion is the offspring of a wyvern and a fawn.)
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13th-century England, "The Rutland Psalter". (Too many legs! Pull back! Pull back!)
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13th or 14th-century France, Bestiaire d'amour rimé. (This is very similar to the fawn-wyvern, but putting it in an actual Scene makes it even more obvious that you’re just guessing.)
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14th-century Netherlands, Jacob van Maerlant's Der Naturen Bloeme. (More top-down six-legged guys that look too furry to be arthropods.)
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14th-century Germany, MS Additional 22413. (That is clearly a turtle.)
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14th-century France, Matfres Eymengau de Beziers's Breviari d'amor. (Who came up with that head shape and what was their deal?)
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15th-century England, "Bestiary of Ann Walsh". (Screw it, a scorpion is a big lizard that glares at you for trying to make me draw things I don’t know about.)
I've spent way too much time on this now. End of post, thank you to anyone who got all the way down here.
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singmyaubade · 4 months
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Shades Of Cool
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toxic!dark!rafe cameron x female!pogue!reader
summary: you are just living your life, completely normal and free. but, what happens when rafe cameron decides that you are his? he's danger.
warnings: smut! 18+ stalking, manipulation, rafe is obsessed with reader, fingering, swearing, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (male receiving), dark!rafe cameron, choking, jealousy, violence, heavy smut..
a/n: i'm delighted I'm finally starting this, even if it took me so long. i genuinely hope you all enjoy this series. i understand that this a bit short, but the narrative is only getting started, so things will only get wilder! however, it is to be expected—this is a rafe cameron fic.
series
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One thing that you hated about Outer Banks was how the heat still radiated at night, causing excessive amounts of water to be drank and a great amount of fans that blew hot air into your face.
It only made everyone irritable and only caused more arguments like now,
"I swear to god JJ, I am about to fucking murder you if you say another word," You hissed, giving him a glare as he mockingly grew scared.
"I agree," Cleo said before falling back into her nap.
"All I'm saying is that we have been moping around here for hours meanwhile we could be partying on the fresh beach and cool water," JJ replied, using his hands to represent the scenery to all of you.
"I'm going to have to agree with Y/N," Pope said, turning his head to JJ, "I'm already in tough shit with my parents for when you knocked over my great-grandmothers vase," Pope glared.
JJ put his hands up in defense, "I told you tequila makes me clumsy,"
"Besides every single Kook is there, including Rafe and if he sees Sarah with us, it will only bring another fight and you are not going back to jail," Kie warned, still closing her eyes while the fan blew the air in her face, blowing her hair.
"When have we ever been scared of Rafe?" JJ asked.
"When he gave me a full smackdown for doing my job," Pope scoffed.
"And when he almost drowned me," Sarah chimed in from across the room where she was laying on John B's legs on the carpet floor.
"And when he shot Sheriff Peterkin in front of us," John B added.
"And when-" Pope began.
"Okay that's enough," He said as you giggled, turning your head back to the fan.
You didn't know much about Rafe Cameron since you had moved to Outer Banks only last year and you had met the "star Pogues" a few months ago.
You had never really seen Rafe's face ever, only heard of him honestly.
But you didn't know if it was a bad thing.
All you had heard about was how evil and villainous he was which caused some places to be off limits for the fact that the boys couldn't handle another beat down with the Kooks and there was a greater matter at hand.
But still, you always were curious about "evil" Rafe Cameron.
"You guys are no fun," JJ pouted, sitting beside you on the couch.
You patted the lower part of his leg, "Poor baby," You sarcastically said to which moved his leg swiftly causing you to laugh.
Suddenly the lights and fans turned off as you all except for JJ groaned, knowing that meant the electricity was off you and you would have to deal with the heat and darkness.
Which meant the only choice was the beach party,
JJ cheered, "I win!"
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You crossed your arms as you walked on the warm sand, lots of cheering and loud music around you. You could see the Kooks and the Pogues in their own groups, not daring to interact with eachother.
It was hard to get used to the fact that there were two groups of people based on economic statuses and that it meant that if you were one thing, the other one hated you.
You had never been to a place like that but you just kinda got used to it.
Yet you still could never tell which group was really which sometimes.
You were forced to walk around by yourself as John B and Sarah wandered off to a quiet spot while JJ started drinking with Kie as his babysitter and Cleo and Pope wandered around.
All of it sounded like a lot of third wheeling which made you stay away.
But you didn't mind being alone, you liked listening to the waves and watching the festivities that went along with a party.
And you knew that a beer would help you get more into the party festivities.
You walked over the keg where a man with a shaved head and a matching tank top and shorts poured himself a beer as you curiously looked at him.
You had to admit that he was one of the most attractive men you had seen before.
His lips were a perfect shade of pink and they were smooth like sucking on a cherry. His veins were bulging from his hands and you could see the peach fuzz on his jawline that you could only really see upclose.
You snapped out of your analysis as he looked at you as you waited there awkwardly, forming a smile on your face.
"Sorry to creepily stand here, I'm just trying to get a uh-" You said, pointing to the keg.
His face studied you for a second, almost as if he was trying to figure you out. You could tell by his face that he had never seen you before and he looked as if he was trying to figure out if you were a Kook or Pogue.
He chuckled, "Didn't mean to take so long, I wouldn't have if I had seen your pretty face sooner," He smirked, looking you up and down, causing you to blush.
You felt stupid for blushing over something that a man probably said to every pretty girl he saw but you felt something different about him.
You were taken aback by his boldness, "Do you say that to every women that waits for her turn on the keg?" You teased.
"Only the pretty ones," He replied, causing you to laugh.
"Smooth talker I see," You smiled.
"Always," He joked, "I swear I've never seen you around and usually, you know everyone in Outer Banks," He probed.
"Yeah, I just moved here last year," You answered, "I haven't made my rounds yet,"
"Figured," He said, "I would've definitely noticed you,"
"Pfft," You beamed, "I'm sure you would've walked past me on the beach, there are many beautiful girls here,"
"Nah," He laughed, looking off, "You are different from them,"
"How could you already assume that?" You asked, curiosity biting at you.
"For one, you aren't stuck up and preppy which is most the girls on this island," He grinned as you giggled.
"Ay, they aren't all like that," You replied.
"Most of 'em," He added, "But I don't pay much attention to them,"
"Figures," You said, eyebrow raising.
He saw your eyes move the keg and his cup before he offered his cup forward.
"Might as well take mine, I wouldn't feel proud of myself if I let you pour one yourself," He winked.
Great attempt at being a gentlemen.
"No no, I got it," You said before he shook his head.
"I insist" He said, his thumb grazing yours.
"Thank you," You smiled, "I'm Y/N" You introduced, taking the cup from him while extending your other hand for him to shake.
He shook your hand, "I'm Rafe," He replied with a smile as yours slowly fell.
The Rafe? The Rafe you were basically supposed to never interact with and who was the supposed devil? That Rafe?
"Rafe Cameron?" You asked, standing frozen.
"Guess my reputation precedes me," He joked as you didn't laugh but instead cleared your throat.
You took your hand back quickly, "Oh, i-it's nice to meet you," You cleared your throat, "My friends are waiting so I'm gonna-"
He clearly figured you out, "Pogue, I'm guessing?" He snickered.
Your face wrinkled, "Is that supposed to be a funny thing?"
"Hilarious actually," He answered, only angering you more.
"I don't see what's funny about that?" You crossed your arms with ur drink resting in your hand.
He wiped his jaw, "Must be tough at the bottom of the food chain,"
Your nose flared, "Must be tough being an elite asshole,"
He laughed, "I just think it's an unfortunate cause, I mean it's just unlucky," He smirked.
Asshole.
"Unlucky?" Your lip pursed, " I think what's more unlucky is thinking that your cool for a fucked up economic status that has been perpetuated on an island,"
"I just don't believe your friends belong on Outer Banks," He said, not a hint of hesitance in his voice.
He really believed in this bullshit.
"I mean you would really rather hang out with a group of dirty Pogues?" He snickered, looking off.
"Well I am one of them and they are my friends," You scoffed, "You seem more dirty than us," You insulted.
"Is that so?" Rafe mocked.
"Do you wanna talk about your father's dirty money?" You asked.
"I would watch that pretty mouth," He replied, inching closer.
"Or what?" You hummed, acting braver than you usually would.
"Fuck around and find out sweetheart," He came closer, breath fawning on your face.
The whiskey on his breath kissed your nose but not breaking your eye contact with him as you inched closer, eyes on his lips.
As he tried to close the gap, you threw the drink in his face. "Oohs" and snickers filled around the both of you as you stomped away from him.
He smirked, wiping the alcohol off of his face.
'What an asshole,' You thought,
Little did you know that Rafe only grew to like you more.
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You found JJ and Kie sitting by the beach together as she laid her head on his shoulder. You were thinking about interrupting them but tarnish their moment, you choosing instead to call it a night and also you didn't feel like trying to find the rest of the group.
You were glad that you knew yourself enough to drive to the party considering that you got tired fast. You couldn't really see in the parking lot due to how dark it was and away from the lights.
You digged in your back pocket for your phone to pull out of the flashlight as you reached for your keys but dropped them instead in the process.
You audibly groaned as you searched on the floor in the darkness for the keys. You went on your knees with your flashing light, searching on the ground as you heard footsteps behind you, darting your flashlight behind you but seeing nothing.
You had a bad feeling but you thought it was paranoia because you were alone in the parking lot and maybe a little due to the interaction you had earlier with Rafe.
You couldn't stop thinking about how he came off as nice but switched so quickly into an elitist piece of shit.
Sounds like how they described him.
But still, there was a pit in your stomach that felt like butterflies when he grazed your thumb.
You sighed, pushing the thoughts out as you finally grabbed your keys, using the concrete-sanded floor push yourself back up off the ground.
Suddenly, you felt a cloth on your mouth and a hand covering your waist as your muffled screams filled the parking lot, trying to kick your attacker behind you.
You felt yourself drifting into the darkness as you screamed one last time,
And everything went black.
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tags: @hysteriahall @avengersassemblee @lighttism @whereismymindnow @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @vi06ma01 @haven247 @vanessa-rafesgirl @blvebanisters @riordanness @aleidag1rly @muzanjackson22
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