#thief does not look like a word to me anymore | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alphabetboyluvr · 9 months

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landslides - 001 | goldrush - jjk

part title credit: goldrush - taylor swift

everybody wonders what it would be like to love you... i can't dare to dream about you anymore... it never will be...

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn't ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he's yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being 'you' to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do.

warnings: fluff more than angst, but it's not clean cut - there's also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you've been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

wordcount: 6.8K

note from holly: so... i dogsat (? idk if thats a word) for my friend last chuseok and this was the result hahahaha. my friends dog (boba <3) is so tiny and small!! but i've always been a big dog girlie so bam was fun to write. i really love this one and have recently found all of my old notes from around that time detailing the rest of the couples lives, so pt. 2 is in progress.

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

Bam notices the storm roll in before you do. His ears twitch, head lifting from its rested perch on his paws.

“What’s up, baby? Hey?” You coo, his sudden shift obviously prompted by something. His snout begins to twitch, too, and his bottom lip shakes as a small growl vibrates from his throat. His eyes are on the window, stalking the clouds as they roll past. “Hey.”

You sit up a little straighter to lean forward and scratch behind his ear. He leans into it, but doesn’t take his eyes away from the sky.

“You see the rain, huh?” You hum, looking between the pup and the window ahead. You can’t place it yet - it’s too far in the distance - but you find yourself coming to sit beside him. He doesn’t lean up against you like he usually does. Just continues to lightly growl.

There’s no threat behind his noises, no malice - he’s just shouting back at the thunder you can’t hear. When you see a bolt of lightning flash in the distance just beyond the city skyline, you know that it won’t be long until Jungkook’s apartment block is drenched in the weather.

It’s just gone midnight when he calls. His face is a little puffy, smile a little lopsided.

“Hey Bammie,” he coos into the camera. You’ve got it angled down to where the pup is resting his head on your knee, peacefully unwinding after his long walk. Bam doesn’t stir at Jungkook’s voice, so he tries again. “Bammie?”

The way he elongates his puppy’s name is sweet - a tone of voice reserved only for his most trusted companion. He sure as hell has never spoken to you like that.

“Sorry, bud,” you say as you lift the camera up to your face. He’s pouting. “I don’t think the vibrations sound the same through the phone.”

“I miss him,” he says not even caring to acknowledge your thought process. “Is he okay? Was he good on his walk?”

“He’s all good,” you smile. “Best boy in the world. None of the other dogs you mentioned were down at the park, so it was just us two.”

He nods into the camera and purses his lips. “They might all be away. Visiting family.” He rolls over in his bed and lets out a yawn. “How’s the apartment? Got everything you need?”

You nod back. “All good. Might have eaten my way through your cheese stash already. I’m gonna shower then head to bed in a minute.”

“Make sure you leave the bathroom door open a little,” he says. “He’ll whine if not.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you,” he says. “I really appreciate you doing this. He hasn’t been too much work, has he?”

“He’s good as gold,” you say as you switch to the back camera. The view is serene, and Jungkook’s lips instantly settle into a smile. Bam is up on the sofa with you, snuggled against your lap. The skyline twinkles through his window, the reflection of his mood lamp obscuring some of it - but he’s quietly pleased that you’re using it. It’s how he normally winds down, too. Main lights off, galaxy on his ceiling. Must make Bam feel a little more at ease. You go to scratch behind his ear, and he huffs a little, all content and cosy. “Thanks for asking. He’s never too much work. You trained him well.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums. “Could have trained you a little better, though.”

He laughs when you switch the camera back to your face, mouth open, brows knitted together. “Me?!”

“Yes, you,” he grins now but tries to hide it; to restore the stoicism to his face. It doesn’t work. “What did I tell you about the sofas?”

You purse your lips together as if you’re not smiling. He’s got you there, admittedly.

“Look, he’s just so cute!” Despite the fact you’ve turned the camera back onto Bam, Jungkook can tell you’re pouting. “How could I say no?!”

“Easily!” Jungkook laughs. “That’s how he became so well trained! I leave for one night and-”

“Shuuuush,” you laugh, and when the camera switches back to you, Jungkook can’t help but let his smile persist. You look tired, and so does he, but there’s something about the call that has made you forget all about the fact you were planning on going to bed soon. “My swamp now. My rules.”

“My swamp,” he protests, but the look on his face is so saccharine that you can’t take him seriously. He thinks the same could be said for you. “Anyways, it’s late. Go get your shower. If you need more towels, there are some in the cupboard by the boiler. Don’t forget to turn the vent on - it’s the switch next to the light.”

“Alright, will do,” you nod and then yawn. Bam pricks his head up. “Hey baby,” you speak to him. “Did I wake you?”

“Show me him.”

You switch the camera around to where you’re scratching at Bam’s ear. He leans his head into the scratch, thoroughly enjoying it, your long nails far scratchier than Jungkook’s. It’s not the same - Jungkook is far stronger, so is a little rougher which suits Bam just fine. Still, he likes your scratches better than no scratches at all.

Jungkook whines. “I miss him.”

“He misses you, too. Want me to call in the morning?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “We’re up early tomorrow, heading over to Haedong Yonggungsa in the morning. Probably be up before you. Send me pictures though.”

“Will do. Night, buddy.”

“Night gremlin,” he smiles, and then begins to coo. “Night Bammie. Daddy misses you.”

He wishes you wouldn’t look at him in the way that you do when he says that; lips turned upwards at the very corners, dimples pressing into your cheeks, eyes bright.

“Shut up,” he says, but you’re already laughing.

“Daddy.”

“I am his dad!”

“Daddy.”

“Oh my god, fuck off,” he laughs. “Have nightmares, gremlin.”

“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”

“Fuck off!”

You hang up before he can protest your taunts any more, though he does text you one final ‘fuck off,’ and a reminder that you can bolt his front door if it will make you feel safer.

His apartment is in a high-rise, and his neighbourhood is far nicer than yours. You do the bolt up regardless, and think that it’s sweet that he considered your comfort enough to remind you about it.

Bam sits by the sliding door of the bathroom, the tips of his paws just teetering over the line of the door frame. He rests his head on his legs, snout angled towards the hallway. It still makes you feel a little weird. You don’t really want a dog watching you shower, even if he is a dog and has no real understanding of what’s happening - so you turn your back to him and just reassure yourself that Jungkook showers with the door open wide.

It’s a funny thing, to think about your co-worker’s showering habits. Not one that you’ve ever thought to indulge in before - but Jungkook would go ballistic if he heard you refer to him as your ‘co-worker.’ You’re friends. Pretty good ones, at that.

You’re level players at your company; earn the same wage, hold the same rank. There’s not really any competition between the pair of you - you work in different departments - but are often paired together when the two sections merge for joint projects. You make for a good team.

Over the years, you and Jungkook have also learned that you’re a highly capable team when it comes to playing beer pong against your colleagues on Friday nights, and at the mixed-doubles tennis tournament that your company insists on you participating in every year. It’s either that or be on the Christmas Party Planning committee, and you know which you’d rather do.

Thinking about tinsel in August? No, thank you.

There is however one crucial flaw to your partnerships: how you live your lives. How you manage your money.

See, Jungkook is frugal. He makes big investments - his apartment, his cars, games consoles, Bam. Doesn’t spunk his cash away on the small shit. His apartment is in the heart of the city, only a few floors from the very top. He gets a birds-eye view of the world around him. You don’t even want to imagine how much his deposit cost.

Probably more than you have in your savings. You do spunk your cash away - on the small shit, no less. Clothes, cafes, that sort of stuff. Nothing that holds permanence. It frustrates Jungkook to no end. He thinks you could have a better life if you just used your money wisely - but you’re happy in your slightly cramped apartment, happy when the serotonin of a shopping spree boosts your mood, happy when you’re laughing with your friends over coffee and cake.

You wouldn’t be happy if you felt restricted. You think that Jungkook is.

He disagrees. He has enough in the bank to buy whatever he wants. He has financial freedom.

But there’s a difference. You’re both free in your own ways.

It’s for that reason you’d never work as a couple. Would infuriate one another far too much. Everyone who is close to you both knows this; how badly suited you would be. They’ll joke about all of the women in the office trying to get their mitts on Jungkook - even the married ones - but not you.

It’s funny because they’re right. Everybody wants him.

He collects stars from their eyes and accumulates them in his own. The girls blush and giggle about how he looks at them with galaxies, but they don’t realise what a thief he is. Don’t realise he’s stolen their shine, and incorporated it into his own. A spotlight follows him, and you enjoy watching the show unfold with an amused grin whenever a new secretary catches his gaze for the first time.

It’s not intentional. You don’t think Jungkook realises he does it. In fact, he hadn’t realised that it was such a pattern of behaviour until the midnight squalor of a dive bar had you talking about office conquests, and how the photocopier room had seen his bare ass more than it had seen toner changes.

“Shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon,” you’d grinned.

“Firstly, that’s a horrible phrase - and secondly, it takes two to tango. They’re just as much to blame as I am.”

But they’re not. He’s the only repeat offender.

“And anyways,” he had deflected, sinking down the final dregs of his beer. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint. Everyone’s fucked a colleague at least once.”

You’d just raised an eyebrow.

“You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Like I said - shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon.”

Now, if he’d have said housemate, you would have folded. Downed your drink. Ordered a repeat round.

Something about a shared space - domestication - really gets you. It’s joint laundry loads, shared dinners, movie nights; grocery shopping, D.I.Y. furniture, arguments about who gets the bigger room. More often than not, it never matters, ‘cause you just end up staying in theirs.

You live alone now. After the third time, you knew better than to let yourself fall into the trap once more.

He learns about your affliction a few months later, and goes on tease you relentlessly.

In fact, he mentions it when he propositions you a few weeks before Chuseok. You had both spent the last couple of holiday periods overworked, slogging through the festivities. For the first time since either of you can remember, your workload has eased up.

You’ve already told him you’re planning on doing sweet, sweet fuck all. You’ve told your family you will be working, because you just want to finally breathe for a while; stay in with a tub of ice cream and your favourite films. Speak to no one. Do nothing.

“I’ve got a favour to ask you,” he had said as he approached your desk before the end of the day. It was a Friday, but you weren’t heading for after-work drinks with the usual suspects like you typically did. You had a date, instead. A third one with the same guy - Mingyu - which felt like a miracle. Even Jungkook was a little shocked that the poor guy wasn’t sick of you.

“Go on,” you had mused as you checked over your to-do list for the following week.

“You gotta promise me something first.”

“Promise you what?”

“That you won’t fall in love with me.”

You’d swatted him away the ruler on your desk, and told him to get his head out of his ass. “Been able to resist your charms this long, Jeon. Give me some credit.”

“It’s only ‘cause you know I’d reject you, you little gremlin.”

“I thought you wanted a favour? Funny way of going about it.”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right,” he had conceded with an apologetic smile. “Forgive me.”

“What do you want?”

“How would you feel about potentially staying at mine over Chuseok to look after Bam? My parents want us to head down to Busan for the weekend and see relatives seeing as I’m finally free and know it’s a big ask but I-”

“Oh my God, yes?!” You had smiled so wide Jungkook thought you might fracture your jaw.

You love Bam.

In fact, he might just be your favourite thing about Jungkook.

Occasionally you walk him with Jungkook on the weekends, when you’re both hungover and need to get out of a slump. You’ve grown up with pets, but moving to the city in your early twenties to pursue your career meant apartment living.

You’re a rural girl deep down, and would never want to keep a pet in a high rise.

Jungkook manages it, but he goes home at lunchtime to walk Bam during the winter. In the summer, when it’s too hot, he goes home at lunch regardless, to lounge around with Bam under the air con.

Sometimes, you go with him. Bam is always pleased to see you.

Jungkook lied and said he asked around because he didn’t want to inconvenience you.

Truth is, he wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with his baby. He’d never spent a night away from Bam. Hated the idea. Despised it, in fact. He would have just taken Bam with him to Busan, but didn’t think it would be fair to force him on the journey from Seoul.

Over in Busan, when Jungkook hangs up, the conversation isn’t over. It continues in his head.

“Hey, wait…”

“Mhhm?”

“You just… look nice tonight, that’s all.”

He thinks you’d blush. Would tell him to lay off the soju. Accuse him of getting too drunk for a family get-together. He’d let you. Would take the beating of your false accusations, because it would be far easier than admitting he’s not had a single drop.

He thinks of the hug he’ll give Bam when he gets home; how wild his tail will waggle, how he’ll jump all over the place, and how you’ll be giggling. In his mind, you’ll be smiling just as wide as he is.

You’d stay for dinner. Jungkook would order from your favourite place to say thank you. Bam would snuggle up to Jungkook - on the sofa - and you’d be on the other side, stroking his back. He’d be happy. Bam, not Jungkook. But also Jungkook. Hopefully you, too.

When the time would approach for you to go home, you’d offer to help. Rinse out the containers. Hair up in a claw clip, t-shirt off your shoulder like it so often is.

Jungkook doesn’t notice, but his hands begin to trail down his body as he thinks of you. His phone is still on his chest, rising and falling with every beat of his heart. The tips of his fingers stroke against his skin.

He thinks of you laughing with him about something inconsequential. You’d flick water in his direction when he’d make some joke at your expense. It’d all be in good humour.

But then he’d flick some back at you, and water war would break out. Bam would run excitedly between the pair of you, Jungkook chasing you around the kitchen island with wet hands - and you’d do the exact same back. You’d flick water over the counter, tap still running and he’d call you a gremlin.

There’s a smile on his lips as he thinks of his. His hands roam further south. He’s ticking at his abdomen. It’s nice. Feels calm. He likes to engage his senses when he thinks of scenarios like these. Makes it feel more real.

But then he’s thinking of your shirt and the fact it’s white.

And then he’s imagining catching up with you, holding you captive as he angles the tap towards your face. You’ll be shrieking and scrambling to get away, Bam by your feet, Jungkook laughing.

He’d relent, but only enough for you to twist to face him.

Jungkook’s fingers are by his thighs. Stroking. Caressing. He’s avoiding his cock. Knows it’s firm. His index finger spreads to his balls. Teases.

And then he thinks of your body pressed against his torso, your ass to the counter.

You’d both be soaked.

He’d look at your lips. Look in your eyes. Feel your chest against his. He’d swallow hard.

It’s at this point he forgets about Bam in the scenario. It’s just you and him.

His palm rests over the length of his cock. Presses down. His hips roll.

He’d tell you that you’ve made a mess. You’d tell him to clean it up. His heart would be racing. So would yours.

And it’s funny, because his heart actually is. It’s beating so fucking hard in his childhood bedroom, that he thinks his parents must be able to hear it through the walls.

He’s in a far-too-firm single bed, but in his head, he’s with you in his kitchen.

He begins to grip his cock, long fingers wrapping around his shaft. He pulls up. Pushes back down. Says your name. Whines.

He doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Just thinks about you.

Thinks about the way it would feel to sink his lips into yours; the first bite of a forbidden fruit. Thinks about that quick tongue of yours, and if it would be just as quick to find its way into his mouth. Thinks about your manicured nails that Bam loves so much, and how they’d scratch against his scalp instead. Thinks about the way his hips would rock against you, kind of like they are now; pulsing beneath his duvet.

His mind jumps. Skips the foreplay. Doesn’t mean to - but the thoughts are intrusive. Insidious. Insatiable. He can’t help it.

He pushes up into his hand. Pauses. Waits out the feeling. Retracts. Repeats.

In his head, it’s you that he’s pushing into.

The sensation is entirely different, granted, but - fuck - he hasn’t gotten himself off all week and hasn’t had sex in far longer, so it all feels the same to him.

He hasn’t worked out the mental logistics.

His imagination is jumping from the kitchen to his bedroom and then back to the kitchen again. Can’t decide where all of this is happening - and then suddenly, he finds himself railing you in the utility room.

You’re perched above the washer, held in place by him. He can smell the laundry detergent. He’s got spotlights in the room, but they’re turned off. Only lights from the hallway and the city skyline illuminate you.

It’s obscure. The shadows in his head conceal you a little. He’s gripping your waist beneath your shirt. The baby gate which keeps Bam out of the laundry room is closed.

You’re not talking, just fucking, fucking, fucking and -

“Fuck,” he whines, hand is jerking at his cock, heart rate stuttering.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

Shouldn’t let his mind jump again to a point where you’re fucking naked, and your sodden shirt is on a pile of yet-to-be-done laundry.

But then it jumps again, and one of his towels is on the floor. He’s laying down, back against it. The same position that he’s in now in his childhood bedroom - but he’s thinking about you. The silhouette of your body. The warm curves of your body. The way you bounce on his cock and then-

Oh god, it’s torture the way his cock throbs. Pre-cum leaks from his tip as his speed builds. It’s just a fantasy. Nothing more nothing less. But it’s you. And then he’s thinking about pulling you down for a kiss, and the scent of your perfume and the way you’d moan into his mouth and then his legs are shaking, torso tensing.

He’s taking it too far. Too fucking far. You. Fuck. He can’t. But he doesn’t stop. Just keeps going. Fucks his hand like it’s your pussy.

He’s pulling himself closer, closer, closer, and then he thinks about your voice, and the way you called him Daddy, and he can’t help himself. The pressure that releases in his stomach is catastrophic. Jungkook mewls your name. Calls you baby. Unloads all over himself. White hot cum paints his belly. Seeps into his belly button. Makes a mess of his hand as he coaxes the last few ropes out. It’s been a while since his last nut, but the amount he produces is not fucking normal.

It rolls down the side of his toned torso, Jungkook swallowing harshly as he tries to regulate his breathing. He doesn’t think he can. Doesn’t know what to do with himself. Just kind of lays there. Curses. Knots his brows together. Is frustrated with himself.

You’ve been friends for years. He’s never done anything like this before. He chalks it up to nothing more than him just being a little too horny for his own good. Cleans himself off. Puts his phone on charge. Berates himself for being a piece of shit. Spends a good ten or so minutes staring at the ceiling with an empty head before he falls asleep.

And it’s funny, because when you wake up in the morning, panties damp, the dream you had about Jungkook railing you in his own damn bed, you find yourself looking across the space where he usually sleeps. You reach ouch. Stroke the emptiness. Curse. Spend the rest of the day unbearably horny. It frustrates you. Makes you snappy with Jungkook when he calls.

He asks if you’ve seen Mingyu. You tell him no. He says maybe you should - but makes sure to add, “He’s still not allowed in my apartment.”

“I’m not gonna bring anyone into your space, Jungkook.”

It’s something he knows, and something he trusts you not to do, but he’s still reinforcing boundaries. Making sure that there are still some left. He thinks that if he pushes you closer to someone else, it will sort his brain out. Alleviate him of the guilt that he’s feeling.

But you don’t see Mingyu.

When Jungkook calls again that evening to find you walking Bam alone, he’s pleased. Doesn’t want some guy you’re fucking anywhere near his most prized possession. Bam, that is. Not you. But now that he thinks of it, he finds he doesn’t want Mingyu anywhere near you, either.

“Good day?” You ask, voice a lot lighter than it had been earlier.

Jungkook nods, but he doesn’t really smile. “I miss Bammie.”

You pout. “He misses you too. He’s gonna be so excited when you get home.”

The camera switches to the back camera so he can watch Bam bound along the path. He’s on his lead, snout sniffing in all the flowerbeds. It’s dark out, but there are enough lights on the trail for him to be able to see clearly.

“How is he? Eating okay? Going to the bathroom okay?”

“Eating like a champ, and producing shits to confirm that,” you say flatly. It’s definitely your least favourite part of animal ownership - but the reward is so much greater than having to pick up shit off a sidewalk.

“That’s my boy,” Jungkook grins, before turning his focus to you. “You all good? Seemed a little stressed earlier.”

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change when the front camera flips back to you, but he finds his heart racing again. When you turn your head to check the car that’s driving past, he notices your hair is up with a claw clip. Just like it was in his… thoughts about you the night before. He likes how attentive you are - how you checked the source of the noise. You’re protective. Follow your instincts. Thinks you’re the best person he could have asked to look after Bam.

“I’m all good,” you say, and you really are.

“I know it’s not exactly the relaxing Chuseok you were planning-”

“Jungkook, it’s fine,” you smile. “It’s been nice. I like Bammie far more than I like you.”

“Understandable.”

You both smile, and Jungkook begins to babble about his day, telling you stories about his parents, and his weird cousin who never knows when to not say inappropriate things, and the aunt who keeps trying to set him up with all of her friends’ daughters.

“Don’t shit where you eat,” you remind him. “Sounds too close to home. Your auntie would never be out of your business.”

“I know, I know,” he rolls his eyes. “And hey - it’s been, like, a year since I last did that! Cut me some slack, gremlin. Anyways, Mingyu works in our building. You’re basically shitting where you eat.”

“I’m actually… I think I’m gonna cool things off with him.”

“Oh?”

“It’s like not a big deal. I’m just not really feeling it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, you’re right. I’m not,” Jungkook admits, but is sombre as he does so. He remembers how happy you’d seemed after the first few dates. “But I am sorry that you haven’t found the right guy yet, gremlin.”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll find the love of my life at the dog park tonight.”

“You are not allowed to use my baby as a flirting tactic.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Too late - I’m already here and there is an absolute DILF. Byeeeee.”

“Wait, no-”

You hang up before he can finish, with a grin on your face to rival a Cheshire cat.

The park is empty. Not a single DILF in sight. You ignore his call when he rings back. Will let him sweat it for a bit.

Jungkook lies awake that night.

Doesn’t do much.

His family are still chatting in the sitting room, but he can’t draw himself away from the sanctuary of his own private space, where your voice is still echoing around the room. He’s starting to understand why you’d been craving your space so much for the holiday period.

He doesn’t wanna have to return to the room with a false smile, and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that could rival the ache of getting the ferry across Busan harbour during monsoon season.

Doesn’t want to form cognitive thoughts that distract him from his mindless reflections of you.

Jungkook’s mind works like a house, and right now he’s in the annexe.

He rarely ever goes in there.

Finds he gets too comfortable and neglects the rest of the house. He’s got a garden to tend to, a kitchen to clean, and beds to make - but why would he leave the annexe when it has everything he needs? He’s comfortable there.

It’s normally reserved for the hyper-fixations he’s trying not to fixate on. He locks them away. Hasn’t really visited since he got hooked on GTA5 when he should have been studying for the University Entrance Exam. It’s still there, and he knows better than to pop it in his games console - but there’s someone else on the couch, now. It’s not just him in his mind-annexe. Someone’s in his space. He daren’t let himself go further into the room.

In fact, he’s desperately trying to jump across to the main house. Get himself out of the thoughts that are gonna consume him. He needs to close that God damn door.

But he watches the figure like a car crash. He’s scared. Unable to look away.

Not for fear of it being a monster hidden in the depths of his mind.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Monsters don’t wear their hair up with butterfly-shaped claw clips, or let the clasp of their necklace trail down their spine like that. Monsters don’t twist their back out of habit just to make it click. Monsters don’t spend their days doodling in a journal like the figure on his couch is doing.

But you do.

An iteration of Bam rests up against Jungkook’s leg in his mind, nose wet, tail lightly wagging, so he puts his hand on his pup’s shoulder for comfort. To support him. To guide him away from the annexe and back into the damn main house.

“C’mon,” he says to Bam, expecting him to leave. Expecting him to follow his commands.

It’s his head, after all - but Bam doesn’t heed his commands. Instead, his claws click against the hardwood floor and towards the figure on Jungkook’s couch. A palm outstretches, and Bam leans into it. Hums in content as a set of dark nails scratch at his ear.

“Hey, baby Bammie,” the figure sings and Jungkook knows that voice. Knows it so well that it’s hardly a surprise it’s embedded into his brain so perfectly.

And he knows.

He knows if he lets the person turn around exactly who it’s gonna be. He knows that he can’t let it happen. He won’t.

Because he and you are friends; nothing more, nothing less. Incompatible at best. A match made in hell; so wrong it could never be right.

Jungkook sits up. Shakes his head. The world in his mind tears away into darkness. He stands and tells himself to get a grip before joining his family. He needs the distraction. Needs to have cognitive thoughts. Can’t let himself get trapped. Can’t let him kid himself into thinking that you’re anything more than his friend.

It’s just cause he’s missing Bam, he reasons. Emotions are getting all mixed up. It’s the affection he feels for his beloved best friend that is getting misplaced onto you - although, if he thinks about it (which he won’t (knows better by this point (knows his mind can’t be trusted to behave))), he’d realise that you are his best friend.

It’s unfair to compare you to Bam because you’re an entirely different species, but there’s no other human he likes better than you.

One more day, and he’ll be home. One more day, and he won’t have to call you when he’s all sleepy and confused over his feelings. One more day, and things will be back to normal. One more measly day.

And then he’ll be reunited with Bam, and he won’t have the stress of family or thinking about the week of work ahead to contend with.

One more day. He can do this.

He will do it. Will barrel home at the speed of lightning; will stop only for red lights and maybe the occasional gas station snack, potato spirals on a pointed wooden skewer and deep-fried chicken slathered in a sauce he can never quite figure out the recipe for.

He’ll think about picking you up some bungeoppang - the ones filled with choux, not red bean paste - because he knows that you adore it so. There have been occasions when you’ve begged him to drive you out of the city to the large gas station out West just so you could have bungeoppang from one specific stall.

The signage is faded, and the prices haven’t changed since 2009, but that’s how you know it’s the good shit. A family recipe batter passed down for generations. The woman who makes it is always the same, and though she never remembers you, you always remember her. Beam so brightly Jungkook thinks he’s going blind whenever you spot her.

It’s only because of that one time you’d showed up with the sole mission to retrieve some of the delicious delicacies, only to be confronted with a handwritten ‘closed today, back tomorrow’ note taped to the menu. You never know when the next family emergency or trip out of town might be for your beloved bungeoppang-making Ajumma.

It’s a little after midday when Jungkook’s car rolls into the gas station. He’ll be home soon.

He tells himself that he’s just doing as he always does. Will get his tornado potato. Wolf it down. Go back for some chicken, maybe some tteok.

He’s stayed out of the annexe today. Doesn’t even think about the doorway because he knows the magnetic pull is far too strong for his cobalt heart.

Had ignored your call this morning - sorry, just saying goodbye to everyone. will see you later. - and had pushed all thoughts of you to the side. He’s even tried to stop thinking about Bam because thoughts of him will inevitably lead to thoughts of you and Jungkook is getting dizzy, quite frankly. It’s like he’s chasing his tail, never knowing when to admit defeat.

At least Bam gets enjoyment out of it when he does it. All Jungkook gets is lingering feelings of remorse.

But as he hits the home straight, a small paper bag full of choux bungeoppang cooling down on his passenger seat, his head starts to clear. He’s fixed the lock on the gate that leads to the annexe. Won’t go down that path.

Jungkook arrives ahead of schedule. Parks his car, and doesn’t tell you he’s arrived. Leaves his bag in the boot of the car, but picks up the pastries from his passenger seat.

Opens the door of his apartment quietly. You don’t hear it. Are too busy dancing around the living room with Bam to some mid-noughties classic.

“Hey,” you laugh a little breathlessly as finally notice him. He’s leaning against the wall. Is wearing his glasses, to make up for the long drive. You think it’s a crying shame he doesn’t wear them at work, too.

“Was I interrupting something?”

“No, not all,” you say. There are deep creases below your eyes, testament to the size of your smile. “Me and baby Bammie-” you reach over and stroke at his sides, a little rough and tumble, but perfectly joyous “- were just burning off a little energy before you got home.”

Jungkook crouches, arms outstretched for Bam. The puppy knocks into Jungkook’s chest, legs all moving slightly out of coordination, excitable whines sounding in his throat. His tail wags so fast you think he’d be able to produce electricity if he really tried.

They match each other’s energy; delirious happiness, content only when in one another’s presence.

“Hey buddy,” he coos. “Daddy’s home. I missed you. Missed me too, hey? C’mere.”

His strong hands stroke Bam’s sides, and you watch how playful they both are with unadulterated awe. It seems absurd how similar the two of them are; man and his best friend.

“He was lost without you,” you confirm.

“It’s that right?” Jungkook pouts as he scratches behind Bam’s ears, cradling his face in his hands. “Did Bammie miss Daddy?”

Bam barks. Yes.

“Hey, I’m sorry, boy. I’m home now, though. Daddy’s home.”

Yes, you think. Yes, he is.

The night dissolves much like Jungkook thought it would. You stay for dinner. Watch crappy entertainment shows, and laugh at how absurd people can be. There’s warmth in his apartment, even though he hasn’t turned the heating on.

“You’ll never know how much I appreciate this,” Jungkook says softly as midnight approaches. Bam sighs. There’s rain on the windows, but the storm doesn’t bother him tonight. Not in the slightest. “Thank you.”

Your head shakes. Smile perseveres. “Happy to do it. You know how much I love Bam.”

Silence wraps around your words like a velvet bow, pulled taut. There’s no double knot, but there needn’t be. It isn’t unravelling any time soon.

“So,” you change topic. “How long do you reckon it will take the new secretary to fall in love with you? I’m thinking maybe four days.”

Jungkook wants to make a joke; tease you about how your mind jumped from how much you love his dog, to the idea of loving him. Not you loving him, granted, but it only took a few electrical signals between neurons for you to get there. Must associate him with love pretty closely.

“Four days? Far too quick.” Jungkook pauses. “You’ve been staying here for four days. Reckon that’s an appropriate amount of time to fall in love with someone?”

He’s being facetious. It’s all in jest and yet you feel your heart beat a little faster. Only for a moment. There’s a mild concern in your features, fearful that he can somehow sense the thoughts you’ve been having; the fantasies, the daydreams, the moments of weakness.

You look at him with eyes he doesn’t recognise. Your lashes are low. Sultry, even. Suggestive. Teasing.

And then, they roll.

“Jeon, you have those poor girls on their knees within a single ‘hello’. Don’t act like you don’t know it, you big old flirt.”

“If Bam wasn’t so peaceful, I’d kick you,” he mumbles, stroking at the dark fur behind his pup’s ear. Bam sighs, content to have him back. There’s a smile on Jungkook’s lips. Both are perfectly content. Both are happy to be with the people they like the most in the world.

“He’d just defend me,” you taunt. There’s a serenity to your jokes, and light-hearted banter that means nothing more, nothing less than just enjoyment of one another’s company. “I’m his favourite now.”

Jungkook laughs. Scratches a little firmer behind Bam’s ear. “You hear that, boy? Gremlin really thinks you’d choose her over me.”

You pull your torso back. Turn your body to face his. Let disbelief wash over your features, as if Jungkook saying shit like that’s a surprise. The movement alerts Bam, his head lifting, the chain links of his collar rattling. He looks over to you, then back to Jungkook.

“He LOVES me.”

“I thought dogs are supposed to take after their owners, though?” Jungkook teases. “And I can’t fuckin’ stand you.”

Your playful shock dissolves into narrowed eyes and a suppressed grin. Bam’s looking at you again, so you cup his dainty face and scratch the underside of his jaw. “You hear that, baby Bammie? How are you so lovely when your Daddy is such an asshole?”

Jungkook’s steady gaze lifts to you from Bam. You’re still cooing at the puppy, scratching beneath his snout, but Jungkook’s back in that damn annexe again. He isn’t smiling - but his eyes are unbelievably soft.

So, so velvety. Like satin, maybe; ribbons tied around ponytails. Brushed cotton, perhaps; his still-warm bedsheets fresh out of the tumble dryer.

Soft, like he imagines your hair would be; released from its claw clip, falling around his face. Soft, like he imagines your lips would be; pressed against his, in the privacy of his bedroom. Soft, like he imagines your laugh would be; soundtracking the living alarm clock that is Jeon Bam, as he bundles onto Jungkook’s bed at just gone six-thirty the following morning.

But then you look up at him, and his stare is hard. Still sparkling, yes - but diamonds, not stars. Concrete speckled. Pennies tossed in an empty well; the steel bolt of his door which keeps the outside world at bay.

Hard, like he imagines your teeth would be; tugging on his bottom lip in the shadows of his bedroom. Hard, like he imagines your nails would be; leaving a trail of ruby red sin down his back. Hard, like he imagines your laboured breaths would be; lips resting ajar against his, your very essence pouring into him as he pushes into you.

Hard. Soft. Confusing and conflicting, and just so unbelievably him.

“What?” you question, bemused by the way his demeanour changed. “‘Daddy’ really gets you, huh?”

“Does fuck all for me,” he says with a little temperance, but there’s a smirk on his lips. His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek.

A few have tried the moniker on him, but it never fit well. Would fall from their lips and crash to his bedroom floor. He’d just kiss them to shut them up.

But you… You have him reconsidering. Have him a little hot beneath his sweats.

It’s not really the idea of being your Daddy, but the concept of being one full-stop that has him adjusting his legs slightly. He’s a man of big investments, after all. No greater investment than starting a life with another person. He likes the idea of it.

Makes him think of you talking with a toddler - I’m not sure, baby, go ask Daddy -and the pitter-patter of feet across the hardwood floors of his apartment. Makes him think how gentle you are with Bam, and how wonderful he knows you’d be with a kid. Makes him think all kinds of shit he’s never let himself indulge in before.

When he goes to bed that evening, and his sheets are seeped in the scent of your perfume, he thinks of it all over again.

Thinks of you.

And realises he can’t think about you without his heart racing, any more.

The door of the annexe in his mind is broken, now. Off its hinges.

And apparently, so is he.

Shit.

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #officeworker!jungkook #fuckboy!jungkook #f2l #hi bam!!!!#ian #jungkook fluff

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kishibe-kisser · 8 months

Note

Hiya hun!💕

I have a req for: kaveh, diluc, heizou and cyno!

“You return their shirt/sweater cuz it doesn’t smell like them anymore “

Hehe thank youuu 🤭💕💕

This is like a really cute request :(

Kaveh:

The second he noticed one of his shirts had gone missing, he knew you were the culprit. While it didn't really bother him, he couldn't let you know that. Kaveh lived to irritate you just a little bit. "You know that shirt is one of my favorites, can't believe you're taking it from me. Just don't ruin it."

He kept that energy up every time he caught you in the shirt. Though it secretly warmed his heart to know you had a little piece of him on you. You'd catch him looking at you with a smile only for him to realise and make a straight face. "Yeah, yeah you look cute or whatever."

"What does my little shirt thief want?" Kaveh asked, taking note of the floor creaking behind him. He was bent over his work and well definitely needing a break, he was glad for your intrusion. "Well..." You started, making the man turn to you with a cocked brow. You had his shirt in your hands and you looked guilty, it made Kaveh expect the worst.

"Your shirt doesn't smell like you anymore. So I'm giving it back." You handed the fabric back to him, taking note of the way his expression softened. As a matter of fact, he felt his chest tighten and ache at your words. You were wearing it because it smelt like him. He took it from you gently, looking at it before placing it on the table. Tipping your chin up and made you look at him, showing you that sweet and caring side that liked to come out for you.

"You know I was always only joking right? My whole closet is free for you to use."

Diluc:

His shirt ended up on your body after a particularly long night... a cold rush of wind having come through the window as you lay in bed, bare and talking. He watched you put it on with smile. "That looks better on you than it does on me."

From that moment on it kind of became yours, wearing it tucked into your pants/skirt when you left the house. It always filled him with pride to see, it fed the possessive side of him. Especially when you would be gone for longer than a day. "You see Y/N? They look so good in my clothes."

Diluc watched you wander into the winery, his shirt not on your body this time but slung over your arm. He couldn't help his slight disappointment, it had become his new favorite thing to see you wander around in his clothes. "Hello, my love." He said, arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. "What do you have there?" He added on and took the shirt from your hands.

"I'm giving your shirt back." You said, hands coming up to play with his hair a little as you spoke. "It doesn't smell like you anymore, so I'm giving it back." Diluc found himself smiling, blushing even. If anyone else would have been present he would have been incredibly flustered. "That's why you've been wearing it so much?" He asked, watching as you nodded.

"We can go upstairs and I can give you this shirt, do a replay of how you got my other shirt in the first place."

Heizou:

He was such a hard worker, being a detective taking up so much time. You often found yourself waiting at home for him, late, missing him and worrying about him. In those times you would pull out your favorite sweater of his for him to find you asleep in it. "Miss me so much you decided to pull out my sweater? That's okay. I'm sorry I was late again."

You don't wear it often, only to run out of the house quickly or to go run errands. It's a comfort piece of clothing for you, something you put on when you just need that little extra push in the day. Heizou loves catching you in it as well, seeing you walk around town as he's working wearing his sweater. It makes him all giddy, even though no one's allowed to know it. "I love catching you wearing my clothes out, it's like you take a piece of me with you during your day."

He dropped his things to the floor, looking at you sprawled out on the bed wearing your pajamas and not his sweater. "Oh? Am I in the dog house because I came home late again? You're not wearing my sweater." Heizou remarked, crawling over you and laying down. He was obviously tired from his day and now, he thought you were upset.

"About that. Here you go." You said, reaching behind you and pulling the sweater from under his pillow. He looked at it in confusion, truly thinking he had done something wrong. "I need you to wear it to sleep tonight so that it smells like you again." You told him and he released the breath he wasn't even aware he was holding.

"I thought I did something wrong! Of course I can wear the sweater tonight."

Cyno:

Nights in the desert tended to get cold and while that didn't bother Cyno, he knew you would get cold and came prepared just for the occasion. Seeing you shiver out of the corner of his eyes as you stared up at the stars. "You look freezing, you should have prepared better. You know it gets cold in the desert, luckily I brought a sweater for you."

While he won't admit it, the prettiest you look to him is in the morning, wearing his sweater, waking up after a long night. You just look so pretty in the morning sun, not to mention the way his clothes sit on your body. "Look at you, so pretty in my sweater. Good morning my stars, were you nice and warm last night?"

"Why aren't you wearing my sweater?" Cyno asked, his arm around you for warmth rather that his clothes. He didn't generally enjoy pda, for the sake of keeping up his role as General. Today was an exception because of just how cold you looked. You burried your face further into his chest, inhaling deeply and wondering just how regulated his body temperature.

"It doesn't smell like you anymore." You mumbled into his chest and he made you look at him. "What was that?" His golden eyes piercing through your own. You found yourself flustered before clearing your throat. "It doesn't smell like you anymore. So I didn't want to wear it." It was dumb and you felt like he was going to say something about it, but his soft expression surprised you.

"Well, you're in luck. Today you get it from the source."

A/N: sorry this took so long, I have jetlag and am feeling sick so it all took a little longer than I meant for it to.

#genshin #genshin x reader #kaveh #kaveh x reader #diluc #diluc x reader #heizou #heizou x reader #cyno #cyno x reader

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argreion · 2 months

Text

Who knew your next-door neighbor was your panty thief?

Warnings: Panty sniffing, of course. Masturbation. Scent kink (?) Voyeurism from BOTH? Creepy Leon is kinda hehe, y'know? We love a little twisted fantasy.

We be burned at the stake for being horny. ✨ Stupid horny thoughts into one! Also kill me for the ending I had one in mind so... Erm... Shitty ending🤗(I forgot I lost motivation :'D)

Cough, cough, so, you decided to move into an apartment! Good for you! It's affordable, got a great view, and the landlord isn't an ass! Life feels good, but you know it's short-lived. Especially when you start noticing your panties being stolen constantly. Next day, appearing with crust, and the faint smell of cum? It sends shivers down your spine...

Having to rely on your older neighbor, Leon, to save the day. He's charming and strong, and he knows how to sneak around. (We don't talk about how he punched the vending machine to get you what you wanted.) Besides, he's got a super cool job! There's nothing wrong with him, totally! Unless...

Your hope to catch this panty thief crumbled, watching Leon stroke himself. You just got home, you were tired, stressed... Yet your favorite pair of panties in his hand, crusted and unwashed. Disgusting. Fuckin' vile old man he was. Couldn't help but watch as his hand moved up and down. The way he looked so pathetic honestly turned you on. You shouldn't even be looking, but you did.

Leon's hips bucked into his hand, soft shlicks coming from it. His eyes shut as he stroked himself off. Oblivious to the fact, that you were just watching. Heat creeping into your core as you watch the older male get off. Hearing his voice murmur sweet, perverted words,

“Smells so good... Must've been from yesterday.”

Why did he say yesterday? Only God above knows you did 'self-loving'. Did he use this opportunity to plant cameras? Wait, does that mean you should start looking around for them? Actually, would you be able to find them? The only thing you recall Leon saying about his job is that he does physical work for the government. Followed with a smile, and a charming wink. Making you not want to pry anymore, remembering the way you giggled at his mannerisms.

This mannerism, though? You can't even giggle. Watching a middle-aged pervert get off to you was... Still so disgusting, but you liked it? Liked the way he'd sniff your panties, the way his hips bucked as he took a quick whiff, and how'd he fall back onto your bed. Drawing you in closer, peeking through the door.

Now wrapping your panties around his cock, pre-cum staining the fabric. So, that's also what he does? That's why they got crusty... And also smelled a little weird at points. Was it bad to say you were getting aroused? Free little porn show to watch and with a hot neighbor? God damn, sign you up!

If Leon had to be honest, he's only keeping this act up because you were watching. Getting off on the fact you were watching him defile your underwear, not even trying to stop him. The thought that entered his head sent him over the edge.

Fucking himself into your cunt, watching as you sing praises and his name. Man didn't believe in God anymore but for a supposed angel like you? Maybe he'd change his faith, all just for you. The groan that came from his lips said it all.

Motherfucker was in too deep.

You jumped as his hips bucked up into the air, followed by a stream of cloudy release. Saturating the fabric with his 'love'. What'd he even love about you? The fact that you're innocent compared to him? Sure, he'd dream about the day he'd be able to ruin your life. Wrapping his hand around your throat and plow into you. Might even force you to stay with him. But for now, that could wait.

The post-nut clarity hit him, his eyes widening. Staring at your panties in his hand, now icky with globs of his cum. Ugh, why'd he do this? Having to awkwardly sit there, talking to the voice in his mind.

Did I really just jerk off with a girl's panties?

Even if he was mentally scolding himself, you weren't. Enjoying every second, the stroking, the release, and watching his thumb rub over the wet patch he created. Should've made Mr. Kennedy rub his thumb over your wet patch. Manicured fingers playing with your needy clit, flicking it. Riding his face, feeling the burn from his stubble.

Oh my God, shut up! You shouldn't be thinking this!

You were raised with morals (hopefully), and this isn't exactly a virtue you were raised with. You could hear your parents screaming at you in the back of your mind.

The adrenaline rushed through your body as he finally finished putting everything away. Forcing you to retreat back into another room, covering your mouth as you heard your bedroom door open. Followed by light footsteps trailing down the hallway. At least you didn't have to hold your breath as you heard the front door click shut.

Good, he's gone. Letting you slip back into your room, rummaging through your dresser. C'mon, you can find it, you have to wash it! It's disgusting, why the fuck would he throw your dirty underwear with clean underwear? Couldn't help but say you were peeved.

Though your friend down below would say otherwise. That flame inside of you started alight as you stared at the underwear. Letting yourself be dragged to your bed and fingers moving on their own. Laying back in those very sheets that pervert just masturbated on. Fingers already rubbing yourself off.

Those cameras he placed around also liked you rubbing yourself off. Already retreating back to his 'humble' abode, bare and full of whiskey bottles. Already watching the free show you oh so graciously brought him. His reward for keeping you 'safe'. Safe from this thief, the pervert, himself. Leaning back in that worn-down couch he needed to replace a year or two ago. Fishing himself out like he didn't just cum on his neighbor's panties. Eyes squinting down at his phone as he began to stroke himself again.

Play with yourself more, baby. He's gotta ruin that pair next, and then the cycle will start over and over again. Don't worry, he has all the time in the world to watch you...

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine

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natalievoncatte · 11 months

Text

Alex rarely calls her. Alex prefers visits, or texts. She does things like send Lena a random TikTok that they can laugh over at three in the morning, or shows up at her office with lunch to catch up- food being a love language is as much a Danvers trait as it is a Kara trait. Sometimes Kelly joins them, sometimes Esme.

When she calls it makes Lena nervous.

“Hello?”

Alex’s voice is tense, hoarse from fatigue, and she’s tired.

“Lena, thank God. Kara’s… okay, first, she’s okay. She’s not physically hurt.”

There’s an almost imperceptible emphasis on physically that makes Lena’s stomach sink.

“Tell me what happened.”

“We were dealing with a villain named Shade. Nothing more than a thief, really, but his gimmick is controlling darkness with this staff he has. We took him down.”

“But,” Lena says.

“He enveloped Kara in shadows and she panicked. She flew home and I’m not sure if anyone else should go in right now.”

Lena feels her stomach twist and the steering wheel creaks beneath her hands. She was already on her way home, but she abruptly cuts into the left lane and pushes in the throttle, glad that she both decided to drive herself to work today, and that she selected the Bugatti from the garage.

“I’ll be there in five.”

She makes it in four.

Lena’s teeth click as the low slung car jolts over the curb; she forgot to hit the switch to raise the front end. She doesn’t much care, as she leaves the driver’s side door hanging open. Taking the side steps two at a time, she rushes through the garage door into the kitchen and blinks.

The house is unbearably bright. Every single curtain is throw open to the afternoon sun and every light is switched on, with every dimmable bulb all the way up. Kara has also lit the fireplace and sits next to a roaring blaze, still in her suit, rocking slightly as she hugs her knees to her chest.

Lena first sheds her blazer and then her heels, approaching Kara with steady, even steps.

“Lena?”

“It’s me, darling.”

“Idon’tknowifImsafe,” Kara blurts out, the jumble of words tumbling from her lips.

“Hug your arms around yourself like we practiced.”

She does, wrapping her arms tightly around her body, alleviating the fear that she’ll hurt Lena with an errant movement. Lena sits slowly, curling around Kara from behind as she guides the other woman’s head to her shoulder.

“It was just like being back there,” Kara whimpers, her jaw shaking with every word.

Lena lets Kara feel her nodding and slips her fingers into Kara’s hair, gently working out the tangles she finds. She can tell that Kara has been in a fight; she smells like sweat and oil and soot.

“You’re not there anymore and you never have to go back.”

“What if this has all been a dream. What if I open my eyes and you’re not there anymore.”

“I’ll be here when you open your eyes, my love. Come on, I’m right here.”

“I can’t.”

“Okay,” Lena says, “tell me five things you can feel.”

“My cape. The floor. The heat from the fire. My boots. You.”

“That’s right. Now, five things you can hear.”

“The fire burning. The electrical hum from the lights. The wind in the trees outside. The mantle clock in your office. Your heartbeat.”

“Okay, now, five things you can see.”

Kara’s entire body shakes as she forces her eyes open. When her gaze meets Lena’s, she melts into Lena’s arms.

“Our house. The rug. The fireplace. My painting of Argo City…” and then, breathless, “you.”

Lena cannot help but marvel as they shift their bodies and Kara is suddenly in her lap. Lena cannot help but marvel and the mind-boggling reality of this moment. Kara has been worshipped as a god; she has performed miracles, shattered mountains, can melt steel with a look. Yet here, now, she feels as small and fragile as a baby bird cupped in Lena’s palm.

Kara is not so delicate, though. Her arms still wrapped about herself for safety, she lets Lena squeeze her as hard as she can, until Lena trembles with effort, making sure she can feel.

Kara’s breathing slows. Her body relaxes, and Lena feels secure enough to fetch her phone and call Alex to let her know that Kara is alright, and then order an absolutely absurd number of pizzas and other junk food from their favorite new place.

After Kara has showered and been fed, she goes right back to where she need to be, pillowed on Lena’s chest. They don’t speak; Lena simply understands that tonight she will sleep with the lights on, and strokes her fingers gently through Kara’s hair until her face goes slack and the fear and worry leaves her features as she falls asleep. Kara is even more angelic like this, one arm thrown over Lena’s waist, head turned into her, breathing softly.

Lena doesn’t sleep a wink, but that’s okay, because Kara does, and by the time Kara wakes up, Lena is more than happy to spend the day in bed.

Playing with their hair until they fall asleep.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet

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sillygoosealert · 1 month

Note

Could you please do a follow up to the post you did of Bi-Han yelling at you making you flinch and cry where after Bi-Han made you cry you decide to completely ignore him where you don't talk to him or make eye contact, you leave the room whenever he enters the room, you don't cook for him anymore, don't take baths with him or give him massages and you even start to sleep in separate bedrooms for several weeks now. Bi-Han immediately recognizes that he fucked up bad by getting mad at you when you were only trying to help him so he corners you before you leave the bedroom and tries to forcefully get you to notice by saying something to him even if it's to say hurtful things to him which you don't even do so then he tries to kiss you but you turn your head and even try to push him away from you aggressively and slaps him hard across the face which stuns him long enough for you to run out of the room. Bi-Han eventually comes to his senses and realizes that you don't love him anymore and he breaks down crying in his sleep until he feels the bed dip and arms wrapped around his body bringing his head to your chest where he continues to cry more constantly apologizing to you and asking for your forgiveness. I got inspired by an old episode of the Simpsons where Marge completely ignored Bart after discovering he got caught shoplifting and I wanted to see how you write the scenario since your writing is excellent.

You’re too kind Tehe

Ignoring Bi-Han and making HIM cry (^_-)☆ (how silly)

Thank you so much for the Specific request, it helps me a lot when thinking of how to put things into words <3 ^.^ (and for the compliment, I'll be giddy for weeks ♡)

I made you a nurse again, I’m sorry, it’s just instinct 😔

Also this one is longer than my other ones, so yahoo for me !!

Tw-mental stuff, crying, loneliness, rotting Bi-Han

Bi-Han has been even more stressed out ever since you’re breakdown- because you’ve made sure to take your help out of things. You don’t make him little snacks anymore, not that he ate them but he would eat about anything you touched right now. You don’t bathe with him, making sure he properly took care of himself despite his schedule. Now he starts to find little knots in his hair, and his skin doesn’t feel as nice or clean. His back is filled with knots and is chronically hurting without you offering to give him massages anymore. You don’t even look at him- he didn’t mean to yell, he just..well he didn’t know why he did it either.

He has trouble sleeping after you stopped sleeping in the same bed as him. Sometimes he uses your pillow instead of his because it feels more intimate- something that you would do. He just feels sad and tired, like how you felt. He wanted to fix everything with you when he had the time... He would even move all your stuff back to his room and make breaks so you could have time alone together. He would do a lot right now, but he’s too busy to tell you he misses you and wants you. He doesn’t have time to be the man you need, but he’ll try if that means you’ll stay in the same room with him.

He finds you walking into where Lin Kuei keeps the medical supplies, so he takes his chance to tell you how he misses you- and he wants to give you a genuine apology. But when he corners you you freak out. Telling him to leave you alone, that you don’t want to talk or be near him..? He didn’t do anything that bad, why won’t you just talk to him...

‘Leave me alone, we’re not together, there is nothing between us.’

‘Listen to reason, I beg of you to reconsider. I miss you. Please come back to our room…’ you don’t move, and you look docile enough to move towards. He cups your face, he didn’t realize he leaned in until you pushed him away and ran out of the room. Oh, okay..

This does not make him stop, as he continues to try to re-court you into a relationship. But he can’t, you won’t let him. He’s in his bathroom now, sobbing as he tries to recreate the bath you used to make for him. He knows you used bath salts, and some oil or something… but he doesn’t think it feels as relaxing compared as when you do it- nor does it smell as good. He finishes his bath and dresses in the pajamas you said would help him sleep better, this is the first time he’s tried them out. He wishes he listened to you better, they are quite nice.

He lays in his bed as he cries into your old pillow, it doesn’t smell like you anymore. It just smells like swear and tears- his sweat and tears. He curls into the fetal position and shakes hard, his breath is coming out in harsh, jagged, moments. He almost doesn’t hear the knock at the door, but it’s persistent and hard.

He wasn’t going to open the door until you asked him to, he didn’t want to make you reconsider your visit. He opens the door only slightly before going back to sitting on his bed. You walk in and close the door behind you.

‘You look a mess..’ you say this to lighten the mood, but also out of worry. You wipe away some tears and lean your head against his shoulder.

‘I’m not mad at you by the way…’ you whisper, then he breaks down again. He didn’t mean to, he never means to.

‘Shh..it’s okay..’ you’re laying down with him now, his head is held close to your chest. He knows he’s holding you tight, but he’s scared, he’s scared to let go.

He falls asleep like that, close to you. He missed you

#mortal kombat x reader #bi han #bihan #mk1 bi han #mortal kombat #bi han x reader #angst #mk1 angst #mortal kombat bi han #comfort

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missmoonfrost · 18 days

Text

A good day - a wolfstar microfic

April 5 - Bookshop AU - 811 words

@wolfstarmicrofic

Remus was having a good day. He’d chosen to spend a free afternoon and some well-earned money in his favorite bookstore. Having picked up a few books he'd decided on beforehand he was now peacfuly browsing. As he moved from English classics to international ones, a man in skinny black jeans and a black leather jacket was blocking his way. Remus didn't mind waiting. In fact, he could watch an arse as fit as that all day.

"Keep looking, I'm cute, I know."

"No, I... I'm not..." Remus stuttered, "I'm waiting to look at the books behind you."

"Sorry, I didn’t realise."

The stranger immediately stepped aside, giving Remus full access to the shelves, but staying close by. Remus found his eyes dancing over the titles without taking in what they said. His mind was fully occupied with the annoyingly good-looking, and apparently well aware, man behind him.

"Sorry, were you not done? I'll let you finish."

"No", the stranger dragged his finger through bouncing black waves with an exasperated smile "I'm looking for a gift for my little brother, but it's seeming more impossible the more I look. I was actually hoping to see what you'd choose. You look like a guy with good taste."

Remus chuckled nervously and hid the covers of the books he was holding against his side. He wouldn't call cheap romance novels good taste, even if he loved reading them.

"What does he like then?"

"Everything? I don't know. He loves to read, though. And he likes real books. Hardcovers."

Like any sane person. Not much to go by.

"Hm. How old is he?"

"He's 21. Just two years younger than me. You'd think we'd be close, but... it's complicated."

That meant Remus and the stranger were both 23. Which of course didn't mean anything. Remus just found himself liking it.

"You're not giving me much to work with here. But something clearly brought you to the international classics?"

"Well, our parents are kind of racist and I guess I wanted to show him..."

Remus stared into pearl-grey eyes and couldn't help guessing: "That you're not the same?" because he couldn’t be, right? Not if he was trying so hard to find a gift for a brother he was for some reason not on the best of terms with. Not with these breathtakingly beautiful eyes.

The stranger nodded, but still corrected: "That I know he's not the same."

"Yeah? Well…” Remus worked hard to focus on something useful, “what about The Book Thief? Not a classic per se, buts it’s about the love of reading, and set in Nazi Germany.”

"Sounds perfect.”

“Really? I think I saw it over there, I can show you the way.”

The stranger held out his hand as for him to lead the way. And smiled when Remus pulled out a copy and put it in his hands.

"Thank you. May I see what you've picked?"

Remus hesitated. But the stranger had been generously opening up about family matters in their just a few minutes of conversation. And Remus would most likely never meet him again. He might as well return the generosity.

"All right. This is the last two books in a series called The Seven Sisters. The dialogue is a bit over the top, like little girls having a tea party and pretending to sound like adults, but I enjoy the stories and the historical settings."

The stranger smiled. "Sounds like the kind of book he'd claim not to like, then buy the rest of the series in secret.”

Remus showed the way again. He had to turn around several times to assure himself that the good-looking stranger was actually following. Not only was he taking Remus' advice, he asked interested questions and listened carefully as Remus told him more and more about books he read and wanted to read.

The stranger who didn’t feel like a stranger anymore eventualy decided he was done. Remus slowly and reluctantly led their way to the counter. He didn’t want their brief meeting to be over, but he couldn’t force more books on the poor man, could he?

“Thank you for helping me out”, he said and turned to put his books down on the counter.

“It was nothing.”

He turned back at Remus with a smile that made his knees go weak. “No, really. I appreciate it. You didn’t have to walk me around. Especially after I embarrassed you first, accusing you of staring at my butt.”

Remus felt his cheeks heat. The teasing smile widening on the man’s lips told him he understood the accusation wasn’t entirely false.

He finally held out his hand. “I’m Sirius.”

“I’m Remus.”

“Remus”, he tasted the name, “may I buy you a coffee after this?"

"Yeah. Yes. That’d be lovely. Yes,” he rambled, unable to conceal his excitement.

Remus was having a good day indeed.

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar au #bookshop au #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius × remus #cute mess remus :)

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nalyra-dreaming · 18 days

Note

"... And of course there are some really juicy parts in "The Tale of the Body Thief" that Jacob commented on wanting to do with Sam :) ..."

For people who haven't read books and only watch the series. Can you please tell me what this means? And what was Jacob talking about?

Sure :) "The tale of the Body Thief" deals with Lestat spiraling and deep in depression (which leads to a suicide attempt that fails because he is simply too powerful for the sun to kill him anymore), and being presented a way out, namely a (supposedly temporary) body-switch. Which… everyone warns him not to do, of course, and which he actually does, of course.

Louis and Lestat are… in a weird relationship at that point. They cannot live with each other, but not without each other, and so they live separately, but visit the other regularly. Their own chairs in the other's house, literal "Netflix-and-chill" routines, and so on. They see each other often. Louis of course warns Lestat not do that switch.

(sorry, couldn't indent or quote this, the post wouldn't save, lol)

__________________

"You're out of your mind," Louis said. "Don't be so hasty," I answered.

"You quote this idiot's words to me? Destroy him. Put an end to him. Find him tonight if you can and do away with him." "Louis, for the love of heaven . . ."

"Lestat, this creature can find you at will? That means he knows where you lie. You've led him here now. He knows where I lie. He's the worst conceivable enemy! Mon Dieu, why do you go looking for adversity? Nothing on earth can destroy you now, not even the Children of the Millennia have the combined strength to do it, and not even the sun at midday in the Gobi Desert-so you court the one enemy who has power over you. A mortal man who can walk in the light of day. A man who can achieve complete dominion over you when you yourself are without a spark of consciousness or will. No, destroy him. He's far too dangerous. If I see him, I'll destroy him."

"Louis, this man can give me a human body. Have you listened to anything that I've said."

"Human body! Lestat, you can't become human by simply taking over a human body! You weren't human when you were alive! You were born a monster, and you know it. How the hell can you delude yourself like this."

"I'm going to weep if you don't stop."

"Weep. I'd like to see you weep. I've read a great deal about your weeping in the pages of your books but I've never seen you weep with my own eyes."

"Ah, that makes you out to be a perfect liar," I said furiously. "You described my weeping in your miserable memoir in a scene which we both know did not take place!"

"Lestat, kill this creature! You're mad if you let him come close enough to you to speak three words."

__________________

(This also refers to the contested NOLA meeting right here.) Jacob called their … bickering "petty and in love". They're both not ready yet at that point.

Of course Lestat ignores the warnings and actually does the body switch, and as could be imagined the person takes off with Lestat's immortal body.

Lestat get's sick (as a mortal), and then goes to Louis to ask to be turned, so he can hunt down the thief, which then leads to one of the most raw exchanges (and iirc that power switch is what Jacob would really love to do), because Louis rejects him, though he is mightily tempted.

__________________

"I bare my soul to you and you use it against me!" "Oh, I do not, Lestat. I seek to make you look into it. You are begging me to drive you back to Gretchen. Am I perhaps the only guardian angel? Am I the only one who can confirm this fate?" "You miserable bastard son of a bitch! If you don't give me the blood . . ."

'He turned around, his face like that of a ghost, eyes wide and hideously unnatural in their beauty. "I will not do it. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. Go back to her, Lestat. Live this mortal life." "How dare you make this choice for me!" I was on my feet again, and finished with whining and begging. "Don't come at me again," he said patiently. "If you do, I shall hurt you. And that I don't wish to do."

"Ah, you've killed me! That's what you've done. You think I believe all your lies! You've condemned me to this rotting, Stinking, aching body, that's what you've done! You think I don't know the depth of hatred in you, the true face of retribution when I see it! For the love of God, speak the truth."

"It isn't the truth. I love you. But you are blind with impatience now, and overwrought with simple aches and pains. It is you who will never forgive me if I rob you of this destiny. Only it will take time for you to see the true meaning of what I've done."

"No, no, please." I came towards him, only this time not in anger. I approached slowly, until I could lay my hands on his shoulders and smell the faint fragrance of dust and the grave that clung to his clothes. Lord God, what was our skin that it drew the light to itself so exquisitely? And our eyes. Ah, to look into his eyes.

"Louis," I said. "I want you to take me. Please, do as I ask you. Leave the interpretations of all my tales to me. Take me, Louis, look at me." I snatched up his cold, lifeless hand and laid it on my face. "Feel the blood in me, feel the heat. You want me, Louis, you know you do. You want me, you want me in your power the way I had you in my power so long, long ago. I'll be your fledgling, your child, Louis. Please, do this. Don't make me beg you on my knees."

I could sense the change in him, the sudden predatory glaze that covered his eyes. But what was stronger than his thirst? His will.

"No, Lestat," he whispered. "I can't do it. Even if I'm wrong and you are right, and all your metaphors are meaningless, I can't do it." I took him in my arms, oh, so cold, so unyielding, this monster which I had made out of human flesh. I pressed my lips against his cheek, shuddering as I did so, my fingers sliding around his neck. He didn't move away from me. He couldn't bring himself to do it. I felt the slow silent heave of his chest against mine.

"Do it to me, please, beautiful one," I whispered in his ear. "Take this heat into your veins, and give me back all the power that I once gave to you." I pressed my lips to his cold, colorless mouth. "Give me the future, Louis. Give me eternity. Take me off this cross."

In the corner of my eye, I saw his hand rise. Then I felt the satin fingers against my cheek. I felt him stroke my neck. "I can't do it, Lestat."

"You can, you know you can," I whispered, kissing his ear as I spoke to him, choking back the tears, my left arm slipping around his waist. "Oh, don't leave me here in this misery, don't do it."

"Don't beg me anymore," he said sorrowfully. "It's useless. I'm going now. You won't see me again."

"Louis!" I held fast to him. "You can't refuse me." "Ah, but I can and I have."

_________________

…. Lestat burns down Louis' little hut after the refusal in a fit of disappointment and anger after. (Not before saving the paintings in it though coughs)

When Lestat finally gets his body back he meets Louis again in NOLA, in a church. Lestat is bitter, and jaded, Louis is just so relieved to see him.

__________________

We sat there in silence for many long moments, and then he spoke. "You burnt my little house, didn't you?" he asked in a small, vibrant voice.

"Can you blame me?" I asked with a smile, eyes still on the altar. "Besides, I was a human when I did that. It was human weakness. Want to come and live with me?"

"This means you've forgiven me?"

"No, it means I'm playing with you. I may even destroy you for what you did to me. I haven't made up my mind. Aren't you afraid?" "No. If you meant to do away with me, it would already be done."

"Don't be so certain. I'm not myself, and yet I am, and then I am not again."

Long silence, with only the sounds of Mojo breathing hoarsely and deeply in his sleep.

"I'm glad to see you," he said. "I knew you would win. But I didn't know how."

I didn't answer. But I was suddenly boiling inside. Why were both my virtues and my faults used against me? But what was the use of it-to make accusations, to grab him and shake him and demand answers from him? Maybe it was better not to know.

"Tell me what happened," he said.

"I will not," I replied. "Why in the world do you want to know?" Our hushed voices echoed softly in the nave of the church. The wavering light of the candles played upon the gilt on the tops of the columns, on the faces of the distant statues. Oh, I liked it here in this silence and coolness. And in my heart of hearts I had to admit I was so very glad that he had come. Sometimes hate and love serve exactly the same purpose.

I turned and looked at him. He was facing me, one knee drawn up on the pew and his arm resting on the back of it. He was pale as always, an artful glimmer in the dark.

"You were right about the whole experiment," I said. At least my voice was steady, I thought.

"How so?" No meanness in his tone, no challenge, only the subtle desire to know. And what a comfort it was-the sight of his face, and the faint dusty scent of his worn garments, and the breath of fresh rain still clinging to his dark hair.

"What you told me, my dear old friend and lover," I said. "That I didn't really want to be human. That it was a dream, and a dream built upon falsehood and fatuous illusion and pride."

"I can't claim that I understood it," he said. "I don't understand it now."

"Oh, yes, you did. You understand very well. You always have. Maybe you lived long enough; maybe you have always been the stronger one. But you knew. I didn't want the weakness; I didn't want the limitations; I didn't want the revolting needs and the endless vulnerability; I didn't want the drenching sweat or the searing cold. I didn't want the blinding darkness, or the noises that walled up my hearing, or the quick, frantic culmination of erotic passion; I didn't want the trivia; I didn't want the ugliness. I didn't want the isolation; I didn't want the constant fatigue."

"You explained this to me before. There must have been something . . . however small. . . that was good!" "What do you think?" "The light of the sun."

"Precisely. The light of the sun on snow; the light of the sun on water; the light of the sun… on one's hands and one's face, and opening up all the secret folds of the entire world as if it were a flower, as if we were all part of one great sighing organism. The light of the sun … on snow."

I stopped. I really didn't want to tell him. I felt I had betrayed myself.

"There were other things," I said. "Oh, there were many things. Only a fool would not have seen them. Some night, perhaps, when we're warm and comfortable together again as if this never happened, I'll tell you."

"But they were not enough." "Not for me. Not now."

Silence.

"Maybe that was the best part," I said, "the discovery. And that I no longer entertain a deception. That I know now I truly love being the little devil that I am."

I turned and gave him my prettiest, most malignant smile. He was far too wise to fall for it. He gave a long near-silent sigh, his lids lowered for a moment, and then he looked at me again. "Only you could have gone there," he said. "And come back."

I wanted to say this wasn't true. But who else would have been fool enough to trust the Body Thief? Who else would have plunged into the venture with such sheer recklessness? And as I thought this over, I realized what ought to have been plain to me already. That I'd known the risk I was taking. I'd seen it as the price. The fiend told me he was a liar; he told me he was a cheat. But I had done it because there was simply no other way.

Of course this wasn't really what Louis meant by his words; but in a way it was. It was the deeper truth. "Have you suffered in my absence?" I asked, looking back at the altar. Very soberly he answered, "It was pure hell." I didn't reply.

"Each risk you take hurts me," he said. "But that is my concern and my fault." "Why do you love me?" I asked. "You know, you've always known. I wish I could be you. I wish I could know the joy you know all the time." "And the pain, you want that as well?" "Your pain?" He smiled. "Certainly. I'll take your brand of pain anytime, as they say."

"You smug, cynical lying bastard," I whispered, the anger cresting in me suddenly, the blood even rushing into my face. "I needed you and you turned me away! Out in the mortal night you locked me. You refused me. You turned your back!"

The heat in my voice startled him. It startled me. But it was there and I couldn't deny it, and once again my hands were trembling, these hands that had leapt out and away from me at the false David, even when all the other lethal power in me was kept in check.

He didn't utter a word. His face registered those small changes which shock produces-the slight quiver of an eyelid, the mouth lengthening and then softening, a subtle clabbering look, vanishing as quickly as it appeared. He held my accusing glance all through it, and then slowly looked away.

"It was David Talbot, your mortal friend, who helped you, wasn't it?" he asked. I nodded.

But at the mere mention of the name, it was as if all my nerves had been touched by the tip of a heated bit of wire. There was enough suffering here as it was. I couldn't speak anymore of David. I wouldn't speak of Gretchen. And I suddenly realized that what I wanted to do most in the world was to turn to him and put my arms around him and weep on his shoulder as I'd never done. How shameful. How predictable! How insipid. And how sweet. I didn't do it.

We sat there in silence. The soft cacophony of the city rose and fell beyond the stained-glass windows, which caught the faint glow from the street lamps outside. The rain had come again, the gentle warm rain of New Orleans, in which one can walk so easily as if it were nothing but the gentlest mist.

"I want you to forgive me," he said. "I want you to understand that it wasn't cowardice; it wasn't weakness. What I said to you at the time was the truth. I couldn't do it. I can't bring someone into this! Not even if that someone is a mortal man with you inside him. I simply could not."

"I know all that," I said.

I tried to leave it there. But I couldn't. My temper wouldn't cool, my wondrous temper, the temper which had caused me to smash David Talbot's head into a plaster wall.

He spoke again. "I deserve whatever you have to say."

"Ah, more than that!" I said. "But this is what I want to know." I turned and faced him, speaking through my clenched teeth. "Would you have refused me forever? If they'd destroyed my body, the others-Marius, whoever knew of it-if I'd been trapped in that mortal form, if I'd come to you over and over and over again, begging you and pleading with you, would you have shut me out forever! Would you have held fast?"

"I don't know."

"Don't answer so quickly. Look for the truth inside yourself. You do know. Use your filthy imagination. You do know. Would you have turned me away?"

"I don't know the answer!"

"I despise you!" I said in a bitter, harsh whisper. "I ought to destroy you-finish what I started when I made you. Turn you into ashes and sift them through my hands. You know that I could do it! Like that! Like the snap of mortal fingers, I could do it. Burn you as I burnt your little house. And nothing could save you, nothing at all."

I glared at him, at the sharp graceful angles of his imperturbable face, faintly phosphorescent against the deeper shadows of the church. How beautiful the shape of his wide-set eyes, with their fine rich black lashes. How perfect the tender indentation of his upper lip.

The anger was acid inside me, destroying the very veins through which it flowed, and burning away the preternatural blood. Yet I couldn't hurt him. I couldn't even conceive of carrying out such awful, cowardly threats. I could never have brought harm to Claudia. Ah, to make something out of nothing, yes. To throw up the pieces to see how they will fall, yes. But vengeance. Ah, arid awful distasteful vengeance. What is it to me?

"Think on it," he whispered. "Could you make another, after all that's passed?" Gently he pushed it further. "Could you work the Dark Trick again? Ah-you take your time before answering. Look deep inside you for the truth as you just told me to do. And when you know it, you needn't tell it to me."

Then he leant forward, closing the distance between us, and pressed his smooth silken lips against the side of my face. I meant to pull away, but he used all his strength to hold me still, and I allowed it, this cold, passionless kiss, and he was the one who finally drew back like a collection of shadows collapsing into one another, with only his hand still on my shoulder, as I sat with my eyes on the altar still.

Finally I rose slowly, stepping past him, and motioned for Mojo to wake and come.

__________________

It's all… very emotional and very raw.

The power dynamics are inverted. There is history between them. Petty and helpless love, too. Desire, passion, anger, love, hate, you name it.

Just thinking about Sam and Jacob doing this gives me the shivers.

(As a side note, we have "artful glimmer in the dark" here as a description for Louis, calling back to "spark in the dark".)

Louis moves in with Lestat (and David) once more after this, into the renovated Rue Royale.

It's where he lives until the events after Merrick, after which they abandon Rue Royale, and Louis goes to Armand to New York for a while until the court is created in the Auvergne.

#Anonymous #asks #ask nalyra #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #loustat #vc #the vampire chronicles #the tale of the body thief #spark in the dark #artful glimmer in the dark #book quotes

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wovenintosilk · 10 months

Note

Here to fulfill a need for requests!

Pavitr X male!spiderman! Reader

The reader is new to the spider society and meet pavitr through gwen. The friendship blooms and so do their feelings for one another. At the end they confess and have their first kiss.

Cute right?

Hopefully you get to think but no worries if not! Have a good day!

Thank you so much for the request! I ended up accidentally making the reader more gender neutral but I hope it suits what you were looking for regardless.

Enjoy!

No Content Warnings

GN!Reader

Word Count: 1300

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

Though you’d met only a few heroes, none really surprised you anymore. They all carried a similar seriousness regardless of their true personalities and most of them hesitated for at least ten minutes before revealing their identities to you.

Except for Gwen’s friend who no sooner landed on the roof and pulled his mask off. “I’m dying,” he complained. “This heatwave is going to end me.”

Gwen laughed. “These suits are awful for the summer. Pav, this is the friend I wanted you to meet.”

Pavitr glanced over at you as though he hadn’t quite realised you were there before but then he smiled, almost stunning you momentarily with how genuine and warm it was. “Hey,” he greeted. “Another spiderman?”

“Something like that,” you agreed though Gwen had kidnapped you on one of your days off.

“Why are you sitting in the sun though?” Pavitr huffed, wincing up at the sky. “At least move to the shade.”

You took him up on the request. Admittedly, you’d been slowly overheating but not wanting to ask Gwen about it yet. The roof didn’t offer much shade beyond a water tower but at least it allowed you to easily find a spot to balance.

Further benefits of having friends who had powers at least meant the laws of physics restricted you less.

“Nobody’s really concerned about their secret identity in this society,” you noted.

Pavitr appeared mildly confused. He looked down at the mask in his hands and shrugged. “Why bother hiding it? Who do you know in my dimension to tell? And even if you do, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Both Gwen and you winced at the familiar words but Pavitr didn’t even notice. He found a spot to rest and tilted his head back, leaning it against one of the legs of the water tower.

A strange fluttering in your chest triggered. You turned your attention away to avoid staring too much; a hidden weakness for people who were ridiculously attractive.

“What’s the plan?” you asked. “We just going to hang out?”

“I’ll give you the tour when the sun stops trying to kill me,” Pavitr said. “Or when something happens?”

Gwen sighed but the familiar smile on her face gave it less weight. “Something will show up. It always does.”

True to her words, the luck of Spiderman never failed to provide a tragedy to break up an otherwise boring day. Your tour of the city came around while chasing after a petty thief who’d somehow built himself a speed enhancer. Honestly, you weren’t paying much attention to him.

Pavitr kept drawing your eyes as he showed off new things in his city. He stopped you so often Gwen grew tired and went on ahead.

For all that effort though, Pavitr remained distracted while securing the thief and ended up taking a solid hit to the jaw for it. You winced when he took his mask off after, not liking how the dark bruise crept up the side of his cheek.

He groaned. “Bro, my aunt is going to kill me when she sees this.”

You laughed and from that day forward, Pavitr’s dimension turned into one of your favourite places to stop over at when you had time. Partially because it was fun but mostly because of the Spiderman guarding the city.

You couldn’t help staring when he excitedly told you about his adventures, couldn’t stop yourself from lingering longer than you should have when the time came to say goodbye. Something about him caught you and refused to let your attention wander anywhere else.

When he asked, you told him you came for the dogs.

It wasn’t until work and responsibilities kept you away for almost two weeks that you realised how much you’d been visiting.

Without being there, you grew uneasy and restless. A strange loneliness hung in your heart without having Pavitr there and you kept wanting to send a message or visit though you didn’t know how welcome it would be.

You were friends.

But it didn’t help you remember when you finished your work and immediately opened a portal to be met with a tight hug.

“Hey! You’re back!” Pavitr wasn’t in his suit, instead dressed in casual clothing that had no right looking so good on him. “It’s been so boring without you here.”

The sudden tackle caused an aching pain through your leg, a reminder of how your work hadn’t run smoothly. You didn’t say anything though, knowing it might end your interaction early.

“It’s great to be back,” you said. “Everything got so busy suddenly but it’s handled now. Did the city survive without me?”

Pavitr grinned. “Yeah, but I nearly didn’t! I was going crazy without somebody to talk to. It’s going to take me ages to catch you up on everything.”

He wasted no time in launching into a recount of the past weeks; walked you through the streets and eventually through an alley so you could swing onto the roofs with ease.

The sun had begun to set as you reached the top. Its golden rays danced through the sky and lit the city in a stunning light. A warm feeling spread in your heart at the familiar sight – more welcome than even your own home now.

“You alright bro?”

You snapped out of your trance to face Pavitr whose stare stuttered your heart.

“I was just thinking how much I missed this place.”

He hummed proudly. “I know, I have the best city in the world. That’s why I hate travelling to other dimensions. They’re so boring.”

You sat on the edge, your face turned to the sun. “It makes me want to stay forever.”

“Why not? It would be way better than you having to go all the time.”

It had been a joke in your mind but that response made you freeze for a second. “It would be less travel,” you said though it sounded strained to your own ears.

Pavitr sat next to you, closer than he usually did and still wearing that easy grin on his face. “Exactly! It makes sense, right? You can stay and pretend you’re not in love with me even more.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not in love with you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He could be teasing you. It felt like a joke in some ways though when you turned to look at him properly, there was a challenge of sorts in his smile. Waiting for your response.

“Awfully arrogant of you,” you said.

He shrugged but leaned closer in, making your breath stop momentarily. “Nope. I just have good eyesight.”

It would take less than a second for you to close the gap. And you really, really wanted to.

He did it for you.

His lips pressed against yours briefly; so quickly you didn’t even realise what had happened at first. The slight flush on his cheeks was your only proof it hadn’t been your imagination.

The silence stretched and then you kissed him back.

He made a soft surprised sound against your lips, one that went straight to your heart. The slow movement brought a lingering taste of chai. The warm press stirred the fluttering of your heart faster still. One of your hands found its way to his jaw, gently cupping it to allow you to lead.

The kiss remained slow. You didn’t need anything more than the heat of his breath as it mingled with your own.

And when you pulled away, you couldn’t hide the stuttering of your breath even if you wanted to. His golden eyes danced as they fell on your lips and he moved back in for one more short peck.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time,” you admitted. “Since the day I met you.”

He laughed and created a little distance, his shoulder remained against yours. “You should have.”

“Pav, I’d just met you. I think you would find it pretty weird.”

“Nah I’m a chilled guy. I wouldn’t complain if an attractive person kissed me.” He thought about it before conceding. “Though it might be different if it wasn’t you.”

“I’m lucky then,” you said.

The sun sank behind the horizon while you watched, your head falling onto Pavitr’s shoulder.

#atsv x reader #across the spider verse x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr x reader #spiderman india x reader

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rinhaler · 4 months

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I will be blocking every single one of these 'friends' though I wouldn't be surprised if it's just her sending me anons to try and cover her skin. I'm sorry but there is no way on this Gods green earth that she has proof that you can feasibly believe because she simply did not write it, proof does not exist. She is a thief and she is playing the victim.

I wrote my story at the beginning of November for a COLLAB. If you have any sort of reading comprehension you will see that she has stolen MY work, word for word, and simply changed the names.

I don't know if she's a minor or not, that is something I will never know and quite frankly I don't care because what she has done is wrong. I would obviously never condone anyone sending death threats to anyone. If she is stealing stories while studying something like law, that is a huge problem. Plagiarism is extremely serious and if she's plagiarising fan fiction online she could be plagiarising her school essays and things like that, so, really, she should be held accountable for her actions.

Also idk where you're getting writing about aliens from I don't do that but at least aliens aren't real. You're supporting writing, stolen writing, that has been modified to fit a real person. I write dark content and you're attaching these connotations to celebrities who could potentially face real life consequences.

I tried contacting her directly on several accounts which she decided to block. The denial within her is absolutely atrocious and if you're deciding to blindly believe and side with this person who I've been informed from several sources is a renowned plagiarist, that's your choice to make and your burden to bear.

I will not be replying to anymore asks from associates of saturn. She knows what she's done and a brief look at my writing vs my writing on HER blog you will easily reach the conclusion with timestamps included that she's a thief.

#💌 — luxe mail #tw discourse

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hydr0phius · 3 months

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Welcome back to more crack summaries and notes. Today it's Thrawn Ascendancy: Lesser Evil, and I am absolutely distraught after reading it.

Linked: Chaos Rising and Greater Good

Starting out strong with this one aren't we, Mr. Zahn?

...

Samakro: please let this be a normal fucking side trip-

...

The Springhawk: *appears*

Jixtus: Not this mf again. Give me a damn BREAK-

...

Thrawn, over comms: If there are any Watith here, we have your prisoners.

Generalius Nakirre: I'm going to answer him.

Jixtus: Do NOT

...

Generalius Nakirre: If you're not going to tell me, I'll just ask him.

Jixtus: nO-

...

(word for word)

Generalius Nakirre: The Kilji path will prove superior

Thrawn, flatly: No. It will not.

Generalius Nakirre: Again, you dismiss our wisdom without even hearing it.

Thrawn: In my experience, superior wisdom can stand on its own merits. It does not require a warship to force acceptance.

Generalius Nakirre: You also bring a warship to this place.

Thrawn: But I do not claim to offer superior wisdom. Nor do I intend to impose my wisdom upon others.

(Thrawn, I love you dearly).

...

Jixtus, quietly in the background for the last five minutes of the comm call with Nakirre and Thrawn: Oh my fucking gods, DISENGAGE. DO NOT LET HIM KNOW ANYTHING MORE ABOUT YOU-

...

Nakirre, internally during the comm call and Jixtus' warnings: WHY SHOULDN'T I FUCK HIM UP? HE'S ASKING FOR IT. IT WOULD BE SO EASY.

...

Thrawn: *blank stare on the bridge, facing Thalias*

Thalias: Look at him going into deep thought. *Turns back to Che'ri*

Thrawn, directly behind her now: So have you-

Thalias, jumping about a foot in the air: -STOP SNEAKING UP ON PEOPLE LIKE THAT!!!!

Thrawn: I wasn't????? Anyway, has Che'ri had anymore nightmares?

(He was sneaking but he doesn't know that lmao).

...

Lamiov: *sends Ba'kif a message about Thrawn*

Ba'kif: *Dropping absolutely everything and moving faster than his colleagues would if there was all out war because his Son is up to things*

...

^^^ All that was just in the prologue and I was nearly losing it lmao.

...

Thurfian: *makes a decision*

Thivik: *judgemental vibes*

...

Thrawn: *rattling off info about the paintings in the reception area of the Mitth crib on wherever it is that they were*

Thrass: How the fuck did you know all of that-

...

Lappincyk: Larawn. Has a nice ring to it.

Me thinking of that vine: Larawn James sjsjs

...

Lappincyk: Ok and what is Thrawn to you?

Thrass making a spur of the moment decision: He's my friend.

Thrawn, sitting down: :3

(That felt like a set up. Thooraki and Lamiov going "Thrawn needs someone who knows politics" and then shoving Thrass into his orbit).

...

Jixtus: I have information you'll want

Thistrian: let me consult with the Patriarch.

Thurfian: Tell them to feck off. We don't want anything to do with them.

Thistrian: o h

...

Ba'kif when he found out about the Magys: SORRY YOU WHAT- NO. WHAT POSSESSED YOU

Thrawn: :)

Samakro: I'll see this through. I'm in too deep.

...

Thivik what's on that datacard??? WHAT DID THRASS PUT TOGETHER-

...

All the Thrawn and Thrass interactions give me life.

...

Zistalmu: I got a divorce.

Thurfian: babe, please. :'(

...

Roscu: *blathering on & being all high and mighty while a fucking asteroid missile is lining her up*

Ziinda: Can you shut the fuck up?

Roscu: I- ok.

...

Thrawn: I'll see y'all later. Uingali and I are going on a trip for a bit.

Samakro: k, bye.

later

Samakro: Where are we???

Bridge crew: idk man??

Che'ri: I'm following him. He's in danger and we need to be there.

Samakro after a lot of talking with Thalias: Oh. ok.

...

Thrawn: Can you fire a charric?

Qilori: *nervous wreck* nO

Thrawn dragging him up out of his chair: You're about to learn.

...

Thrass, holding a chair & ready to use it: Yeah, that's right! Drop the knife!

The thief: *slowly puts the knife down, looking behind Thrass the whole time*

Thrawn standing menacingly behind Thrass ready to deck the thief like he did his accomplices: >:)

...

Thrass: Ok, Roscu, but if you did fire on us you'd be killing a Mitth Aristocra and his brother.

Thrawn: :0

Lappincyk: :D

Roscu: Damn, ok.

*after the Odo ceremony*

Thrawn: Are we actually brothers now?

Thrass: Yeah, if you want :3

Thrawn: :') ok

*cue secret sharing*

...

CEDF: *trying to keep the peace in the Ascendancy on Syndicure orders*

CDF and Family Fleets, with the indignant air of a 10 yr old Sephora girl: Oh my GODS, can you LEAVE? You have NO POWER here!!!!

CEDF: Ok, fuck you. *sorts out the fighting anyway then dips off to wherever they get sent to next*

...

Che'ri: I'm fine. I can cook my own food while you're gone, and Mid Captain Samakro can check in on me.

Samakro: *worried Dad being left with the kids for the first time noises*

Thalias: ok.

Che'ri: Niceeee

Samakro: *sweating bullets*

...

Thalias: You Borika?

Borika, fake accent on: You a cop?

Thalias: What-

...

Borika: *nice rancher lady*

Borika 0.5 seconds after Thalias mentions the Seekers program: *pulls a charric on Thalias once they're inside the house and drops the accent*

Thalias: Holy fu- HANg oN-

...

TIMMY!!!! WHY DIDN'T YOU LET BORIKA AND THRAWN MEET!!!!!

...

Fuck the Ascendancy too btw. The systems in place are shit. Those poor sky-walkers.

...

*Two families fighting*

Ar'alani having been sent to deal with it, angry admiral voice engaged: OI, STOP THAT

One gunboat: NO. YOU HAVE NO JURISDICTION HERE CEDF.

Ar'alani, fed up: Flicker all of them, then drag them away from each other

Wutroow: That's going to piss a lot of people off, Admiral.

Ar'alani: idgaf. They're being stupid and putting civilians in danger.

Wutroow: Then might I suggest dragging them back to different orbital levels? if they want at it again, they'll at least have to try.

Ar'alani: Excellent thinking. Let's do that.

...

Ja'fosk 20mins after they flickered everyone and are headed back to UAG: Ar'alani you need to stop hanging around with Thrawn so much.

Ar'alani: Ok but he's right.

Ja'fosk:

Ar'alani: Y'all are just haters.

Ja'fosk: Just get back to UAG.

Ar'alani: Ok.

...

Ar'alani: *Firing on Dy'lothe's ship because he's ignoring her and possibly about to fuck up Thrawn's plan*

Dy'lothe: AR'ALANI, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?

Ar'alani, sick of CDF bs: GETTING YOUR ATTENTION. ANSWER YOUR DAMN COMMS, MAN-

(SHIP, SHIP, SHIP, SHIP)

...

Dy'lothe: Acting on the Syndicure's orders-

Ar'alani: Oh, so illegal orders, then?

Dy'lothe: ...yeah

Ar'alani: ha.

...

Ba'kif: Here's Thrawn's latest plan. I'm giving you and anyone else you can convince permission to go and assist him.

Ar'alani on four hours of sleep: This is completely insane and could ruin our careers.

Ba'kif: So you'll do it, then?

Ar'alani: Of course!

...

Thalias: There's no bus to the spaceport-

Borika: I've got you, girlie. I'll drive you.

...

Samakro: Oh yes, you're Thrawn's big, strong protector.

Thalias: yes.

Samakro: :)

...

Samakro: So, here's Thrawn's plan.

Thalias: Fuckkkkk, that's insane.

Samakro: Yeah... anyway good luck with Thurfian. I'll wait here for you.

(SHIP, SHIP, SHIP!!)

...

Che'ri: *possessed by the Magys*

Samakro, dad mode engaged: IF YOU DON'T LET HER GO, I'LL OBLITERATE YOU AND YOUR PEOPLE

Magys: You jest

Samakro: I do not >:)

Thalias: TAKE ME INSTEAD

Samakro: HELL NO-

...

Thalias: I pulled a charric on the Patriarch.

Samakro: WHAT-

...

Jixtus: And what question would that be?

Thrawn: The most critical one. Are you ready to surrender?

Everyone: oohhHhhoOhohoho, you've got some balls saying that, Senior Captain.

...

QILORI KNOWS ABOUT THE SKY-WALKERS. nOOoooOOOOOOOOO

...

Can we appreciate how well Thrawn's plan went? They tore Jixtus UP.

...

Ja'fosk, pleased: How did Senior Captain Thrawn obtain such accurate information?

Samakro who was fully ready to admit that he fed Thalias false info because he thought she was a spy: o H, uH. Yeah he kinda just pulls things like that out of thin air, you know? I can't explain it.

...

Che'ri has now met both Kivu siblings AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. I think she's going to figure it out if Thalias hasn't told her yet.

...

Everyone going into the chamber thinking Thrawn's going to get a promotion or something and then the Admiralty exiling him and stripping his honour chains sucker punched me in the gut. Thurfian's smugness did not help matters either. I could feel the anger from everyone in that scene.

...

Sorry the way the Aristocra had everyone lined up for serious consequences instead of the commendations etc they got in the end because Thrawn took all of the blame himself to keep them in positions where they'd be able to guide the Ascendancy's forces in his absence got to me oh my gods.

...

Ba'kif: We're telling you so that you don't kick up a fuss about the exile thing

Ar'alani: I would never!

(She would. She was going to)

...

Ba'kif: *explaining the Clone Wars*

Ar'alani: I'm not remembering all that. Happy for them, though. Or Sorry that happened.

...

(Not crack, just pain)

Ar'alani: Don't you dare leave before I say goodbye to you, Thrawn.

Thrawn: Of course not. That's not what friends do.

Timmy: *doesn't write their goodbye scene*

Me: *screaming*

...

Thrawn: It's only for six months. Perhaps a year.

Ar'alani: And then you come home?

Thrawn: Yes. It will be alright.

Me: It was not, in fact, alright. seventeen-ish years and then another nine missing out on Peridea is not 1, mate.

...

Ba'kif: it's a shame I'll never see you in admiral whites.

Thrawn: Nobody here is senseless enough to promote me to admiral lmao

...

Ba'kif: We have time for one final meal together, if you wish

Thrawn: If you don't mind, I'd like to eat alone. There's a bistro where Thrass and I used to meet. I'd like to spend my last evening on Csilla remembering him.

...

I'm not okay. Probably going to have new fics to write now. hhhhhhh. That was sad as hell at the end there.

...

Also these two trilogies just highlight how little Felony understands Thrawn, and I hope all of you understand after reading the books, how badly he massacred our boy in Ahsoka. It shouldn't be, "omg we got him in live action!" anymore. It should be, "who is that blue guy and why are we being given such shit quality shows and expected to like it when the characters that mean so much to us have been reduced to having less dimension than a cardboard cut out, and that a slug could move 1 kilometer at a faster pace than the supposed plot that's scarcely here?" Have some standards that aren't six feet under, please, everyone (this is not aimed at y'all who have seen this from the start <3).

Anyway! Onto the Imperial Era I go :D

#thrawn ascendancy: lesser evil #thrawn #jixtus #generalius nakirre #ba'kif #lamiov #thalias #samakro #che'ri #borika #ar'alani #thurfian #zistalmu #grand admiral thrawn #wutroow

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fizzingwizard · 6 months

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I was genuinely looking forward to Lupin vs Holmes in part 6, but what a disappointment it was. Actually, disappointment is too weak a word. In my opinion, it was pretty much a disaster.

There were so many reasons to be hyped for that crossover. You've got Holmes, the greatest detective of his time, and Lupin, the greatest thief of his. They're both canny, eccentric, and always a step ahead of everyone else. They're also both independent and live by their own set of morals. Holmes picks which cases he'll take without concern for money, and lets people go even if they're guilty if his own convictions say they don't deserve punishment. Lupin always does what he wants, doesn't let himself get pushed around, and enjoys wreaking havoc among inhumane criminals just as much as he enjoys flouting the law.

They're even perfectly matched in the ways they're different. I was open to them either liking or disliking each other (though I feel convinced they'd definitely have respect for each other), because I can see either take making sense. Holmes is calculations with a pinch of chaos, Lupin is chaos with a measured dash of calculation. Holmes eschews relationships aside from a very few - Lupin enjoys social interaction (but prioritizes just a few). Holmes is functionally asexual. Lupin is never not horny.

Even the supporting cast was so promising! To tell the truth, from watching previous seasons I didn't really think the rest of the Lupin gang or Watson would have much to do. But I hoped they would because there was so much potential.

I mean Jigen and Watson are both war veterans in their own way. It's not the best comparison (Watson was a doctor, and got shot almost immediately... but he is also a "man of action" and does have a lot of fight and pluck, even if he's not going to be a match for Jigen in terms of marksmanship). And they're the right hand men of two pretty difficult geniuses... couldn't they spend a moment commiserating lmao.

It could have been awesome to see Fujiko interact with Holmes because her usual tricks wouldn't work on him. I admit it isn't unlikely the show would have been like "Ahh, but this time they do work on him, just like Irene Adler!" and totally ignored that book!Irene impressed Holmes with her wiliness and not her sexiness... But I'm talking about my fantasy here. And in my fantasy, Holmes would have had a similar reaction to Fujiko's manipulation and acting skills similar to how he did with Irene. It would have been pretty cool to see Fujiko interact with a man who was NOT into her, but was just as smart and brave and perhaps wiser than Lupin.

Even Goemon would have had something to do. He could have had a super cool kenjutsu vs baritsu ("what even is that?") battle with Holmes. Extra points if Goemon walks away saying "I respect the skill of that fellow warrior, even if he can't spell his own martial art correctly."

And of course Lestrade and Zenigata's shenanigans at Scotland Yard are a nobrainer. But serious bonus points if they both pine away with equal envy and admiration for their respective smart ass thorns in the side hahahahahahaha.

I mean. There was SO MUCH there. How, HOW do you mess that up???

(Answer: By knowing absolutely nothing about Sherlock Holmes to begin with and basing everything on your memories of inaccurate movies from fifty years ago x'D)

So instead we got: perpetually sad, somber Sherlock Holmes, who isn't working the job that he literally loves anymore in favor of looking miserable a lot and raising a child. And the child is Watson's kid, who Watson can't raise because he's fucking DEAD, and mom can't raise because SHE'S dead (just say Holmes is her mom. Come on. We're in the future. Just say it). Also Watson is dead because Lestrade killed him like WHAT. Of all the twists they could have gone one, they definitely surprised me with that one. Was it a fun surprise though? ... No, no it wasn't.

Add to that the extremely dull characterizations of everyone, the heavy reliance on the danger to a little girl who isn't even a canonical character but is very cute, and the slow, slow pace of the episodes... What a mess. It was memorable, sure, but for the wrong reasons.

Like the only thing I can think of that I didn't hate about the whole arc was Lily taking her first steps as Holmes's assistant at the very end. Fine, that's adorable, and makes me feel ever so slightly better about Watson being dead. And I'm desperate for something to like here so let's go with it.

("It's not really Sherlock Holmes anyway because of the generational difference, it's his great grandson who has his exact same name and job! Same with Watson and Lestrade and sexy Mrs Hudson and and and-" I'm gonna stop you right there we all know it's Holmes. Whatever excuses they make, no matter how they have to bend time and physics to make it happen, it is Holmes Prime in every way that matters lol.)

A melancholy sigh for the Coolest Crossover Ever That Wasn't. As a Lupin fan and a Sherlock Holmes fan, I'll regret it till the day I die.

#lupin iii #honestly fuck part 6 lol #a very grave and serious post about very grave and serious matters

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jahayla-parker · 1 year

Text

My Wife! : Freddy Carter x Reader

Description: 3k wc, Freddy and his wife watch his Vanity Fair interview and y/n tried to answer all the questions. Based on this interview/video FLUFF.

Warnings: a few curse words, use of the word God in a non religious manner (aka “Oh my God”), brief mentions of being sick, food discussed, spillers for answers to the questions in the above interview, otherwise flufffff

Note: credit to @/TeamFreddyUK on Instagram for finding the still of Freddy in Wonder Woman 🙌🏆

“Are you ready?” Freddy smirked, shaking the television remote in his hand tauntingly.

Y/n held her head high and nodded, “ready”.

He laughed and sat beside her on the couch as he queued up the video in question.

The other day Freddy had an interview with Vanity Fair where they held a trivia game about the guests.

Joining Freddy in the interview were cast-mates Ben, Kit, Amita, and Jessie.

The video dropped today and Y/n commented that she would easily beat Freddy in the trivia game for each cast member.

Freddy agreed to be in control of the video, pausing it after the questions so she couldn’t rely on the others answers to form hers.

Freddy pressed start on the video before grabbing her hand.

As the video began, the cast started by introducing themselves.

Which prompted Y/n to mimic their voices as they did their intros.

“Biiin Barnes” she mocked as Ben introduced himself.

Freddy glanced over at her as he laughed.

“Amita Suman” y/n whispered in an overly soft and cutesy way.

Freddy shook his head but kept watching her.

“Jessie Mei Li” she stated in a very confident fashion.

“Kit Young” y/n mocked, her body language confident and tone very serious.

“Freddy Carter” she teased with a thicker British accent than she did with the others.

“Do I truly sound like that to you?” Freddy laughed, his eyes slightly widening.

“Do I truly sound like that to you?” Y/n repeated with her fake Freddy voice, making them both laugh loudly.

“Okay shush! I gotta test my knowledge!” Y/n exclaimed in her normal voice.

Freddy playfully rolled his eyes as he hit resume.

Ben asked his cast mates what his perfect night out would be.

Y/n hummed, “something calm”.

After Freddy resumed the video, Ben gave his answer; dinner with friends and music.

“Does that count?“ y/n asked, looking over at her husband.

“No” Freddy chuckled.

“Fine, next” she huffed exasperatedly.

Ben then asked what age he started working in a bar.

Freddy was late to pause the video so his own suspected answer -14- was given before she could respond.

Y/n turned to him, “what!? 14? That can let be legal Freddy”.

“Shut up, what’s your answer?” he laughed.

“I’ll say 17 because 18 is your guys’ legal drinking age, and the question being asked suggests it was slightly less” she concluded.

“That’s why I said 14” he defended.

“I said slightly, Freddy” y/n corrected him while laughing.

The next question asked what musician Ben would choose to do a duet with.

“Freddie Mercury” y/n answered just as he paused the video.

Freddy glared at her, “thief”.

“Beg your pardon?” She scoffed.

Instead of responding, Freddy played the video and it showed he too said Freddie Mercury as his answer, making her laugh.

Ben then asked what his love language was.

Y/n smiled, “Oh, Ben’s? Physical touch for sure”.

Freddy laughed as he resumed the video to show her that everyone said the same thing.

As it switched to Amita’s turn, the camera caught Freddy messing with his hair.

“Oh my gosh, you and that hair! You can’t stop touching it” she teased, recalling the way it would drive him crazy when it would randomly tickle his face.

“Me?! Look who is talking! That is a bit hypocritical, love” Freddy smirked.

Y/n shrugged, reaching over and playing with his hair, “it’s mine, I can touch it when I want”.

“Yours? Is it now? Here I was thinking it was mine” Freddy retorted.

Y/n removed her hand from his hair dramatically and turned away, “hmmpf fine, I shall not touch it anymore”.

Freddy rolled his eyes but didn’t cave in immediately.

However, as Amita read off her first question, asking how long it took her to learn acrobatics and y/n began to think, Freddy began to pout.

“Ooh she told me this one!… Four sessions” y/n stated.

When Freddy didn’t resume the video, she turned to him in confusion, “Freddy? Was I right?! Play the video.”

Freddy silently shook his head and gave her a dramatic pout.

“What is-“ she questioned before pausing, “oh my gosh, is this about your hair?”

This time it was Freddy who turned away dramatically.

Y/n rolled her eyes with a smile and leaned over despite him playfully leaning away.

She laughed while rubbing his head.

“See, I told you you couldn’t keep your hands off my hair” Freddy smirked, spinning back to her.

Freddy saw she was gonna move her hand away so he clasped his hand over it, “kidding! It’s yours, all of me is yours; now please keep doing that”.

Y/n giggled and shifted before signaling for him to come closer and sit in front of her.

He complied and lowered himself to the floor before the couch so she could see over his head to see the screen.

Freddy tilted his head back as she played with his hair, giving her a wide grin before he faced the television again.

He hummed to himself as he played the video.

Amita then asked what animal she would be.

“Easy, bunny” y/n joked, “no, kidding! Koala”.

“Ooh, that’s a good one” Freddy commented, his voice light with bliss that came from her playing with his hair.

The next question was what Amita’s favorite vacation place would be.

“Her bed?“ y/n laughed.

Freddy chuckled as he resumed the video to show she was correct, “you’re doing very well so far”.

“Why thank you handsome” she grinned.

He brought his head back again and squeezed his eyes while giving her big smile.

She paused her fingers but left them in his hair as she lowered her lips down to his nose briefly.

Y/n smiled as he blushed and looked back to the video.

“Now comes the real challenge” he declared.

“What?” She giggled, “isn’t this whole th-“

“Oh!” Y/n laughed as she noticed it was his turn to read questions.

“Okay!” she cheered, letting go of his hair and cracking her knuckles.

His head snapped back and he laughed loudly, “oh my gosh”

“Let’s go now, press play” she ordered.

He smirked and complied.

“What or who is my favorite subject to photograph?” On-screen-Freddy asked.

“Ooh I know, people! Portraits” she clarified, smiling confidently.

“Is that your final answer, Mrs. Carter?” Freddy asked, not looking back at her.

“Ummm! Don’t ask it like that! Don’t try and trick me. Yes, final answer” she declared.

“My wife” Jessie blurted when Freddy resume the video, making y/n giggle softly.

“People, yes! Oh.. my gosh Freddy!” she cried, seeing his ‘my wife’ part of the answer he wrote before Jessie’s comment.

“Hey” she cooed, reaching back down for his hair, making him tilt back to see her with a smile and blush covering his face.

Y/n played with hair for all of three seconds before leaping back and hopping off the bed to join him on the floor.

Freddy watched with silent interest as she knelt beside him.

“I love you” she whispered very sincerely, placing her lips on his, “so. Damn. Much.”

Freddy grinned, his blush even darker as he hooked his arms around her back, “I love you too”.

Y/n shook her head, “clearly. I mean-“.

She looked away shyly as she felt tears starting to form.

“Love?” He asked trying to turn her head back to him.

“Are you crying?” He asked with a small chuckle.

She nodded and wiped her face.

“Oh, darling,” he cooed, guiding her face to him with a little more tender pressure this time, “shhh, you don’t need to cry”.

“You’re just so precious, Freddy” she sniffled, snuggling into his chest.

Freddy chuckled softly, his lips pressed to the top of her head, “says the beautiful woman crying over my answer and curling into my chest”.

She hummed against him, one hand sneaking up to play with his hair since she knew he liked it.

To be fair she loved it too but she felt she needed to do something for him after that answer.

“Shhhh love, come on, you’ve got more questions to answer“ he teased, helping her turn so she was seated between his legs now.

She nodded, pressing her back against his chest as he hooked his arms around her and rested his legs on the outside of hers.

When he pressed play, the video naturally went back a few seconds.

This meant she rewatched his sweet answer and now noticed the dashingly radiant smile he had when showing it and saying ‘my wife’.

She verbally awed, unconsciously leaning back into him more.

Freddy smiled to himself and shook his head, “as if you didn’t know”.

“I mean, I know you like taking photos of me, but I wasn’t expecting to be the answer” she admitted.

He pressed his lips to her head, “well now you know”.

She held onto the hand he had around her waist, her head resting on his collar bone as he again played the video.

“If I could steal anything in the world without consequence what would I steal?” Video-Freddy asked.

She whined, “You’re too cute to steal”.

“I don’t think that’s how the law works” he teased.

“It is if I say it is” she huffed.

Freddy chuckled, “Just because you rule my world, darling, doesn’t mean you rule everyone else’s too”.

“Stop saying such cute things Freddy,” she gasped, playfully slapping his chest, “I can’t keep up!”

He giggled and kissed her while he had chance since she was looking back at him.

“Real answer?” He asked, pulling back.

She licked her lip as she thought intently.

“Mmm, a very Kaz answer would be everyone’s money” she giggled.

He nodded, “Is that your answer then?”

“Yes,” she nodded back, turning towards the screen to wait for the actual answer.

“All the money” on-screen-Freddy said.

Y/n cheered, “Yes, I got it! You adorable little thief”.

“What superhero movie was I in?” Freddy asked in the video.

Before Freddy even had the chance to pause the video y/n shouted “Oh easy, Wonder Woman!”

He laughed loudly, “you don’t need to yell.”

“I was excited” she giggled with a shrug.

“Amita!” Y/n exclaimed as Amita admitted she hadn’t seen him in it.

Then the video showed Freddy saying “my poor mum has watched it so many times trying to spot me, but I can’t even spot myself”

Y/n gasped and turned to him, “are you serious?”

Freddy laughed and nodded.

“That’s unacceptable, I need to help her, hold on. Don’t press play” y/n ordered, pulling out her cellphone.

“Wait, what? You’ve spotted me?” He asked in complete shock.

She nodded as she began typing on her phone.

“And you’re showing my mum first?” Freddy teased, still in disbelief she had found him in the movie.

“Course I am” she smirked, “I’ll help you next”.

Freddy chuckled, “I still can’t believe you spotted me, there’s no way”.

“Don’t you dare go doubting me, Freddy” y/n warned.

“Love, I’ve seen it like a thousand times-“ he informed her.

He cut himself off when she showed him the still she took from the film.

“Bloody hell! How did you-?!” He gasped as he took her phone in order to better see the photo of him.

“Love seriously, how’d you manage that?” Freddy questioned.

She giggled and looked away bashfully.

“Woah, where’d that confidence go?” he teased.

“No truly,” Freddy tilted her head to him, “tell me?”

She bit her lip as her face flushed, “so ummm… Okay, when we first started dating and you mentioned being in it, I rewatched it to find you”.

He nodded, keeping his eyes soft due to her visible nerves but he was still clearly intrigued.

“And well, I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t” she laughed and chewed on her lip, “I felt horrible that I couldn’t spot you”

Freddy chuckled and shook his head as he stroked her cheek.

“So I kept watching over and over, until y/f/n suggested I slow down the playback speed and I then went nearly frame by frame” she bashfully admitted.

Freddy stared at her with such admiration, love, and disbelief.

“Darling I - “ he was now the one to tear up, “I can’t believe you did all that”

She bit into her bottom lip and nodded, “I was so mad at myself for not finding you”.

Freddy chucked softly as she reached up to wipe his eyes as he’d done to hers esrlier, “you didn’t need to do that”

“I had to find you Freddy” she argued.

“Love, if you had mentioned it, I would’ve told you I couldn’t even find myself” he laughed, still staring at her in honored disbelief.

“I’m truly honored you went through all that for me, especially so early on” he blushed.

“You’re special” y/n shrugged.

Freddy shook his head and pulled her tightly to him, “fuck, I love you”.

She hummed against his chest and sent a muffled I love you back.

“No more tears blocking those beautiful ocean blue eyes,” she shook her head wiping his tears again.

He flushed darker and chuckled softly.

Y/n kissed his cheek before spinning around to see the screen.

She rested her left hand on his hand that was around her, Freddy turning his palm so he could rub his finger against her wedding ring band.

Y/n leaned into his embrace as he pressed play.

“Wait, you made me forget!” She panicked, grabbing her phone to finish the text to Freddy’s mom.

He watched and waited until she was done before he pressed play again.

“If I could only eat one meal for the rest of my life what would it be?” He asked in the interview.

“Brunch” she nodded confidently.

Freddy chuckled, “that’s creative, but not the question, love”.

“Ugh fine. Hold on don’t tell me” she turned to see him smirking as if she’d never get it; making her even more adamant to get it now.

Suddenly her face dropped in realization before she smirked and shook her head, “if you said peanut butter on toast, I swear to God”.

He laughed and pressed play.

“Ayyyee, Kit stole my first answer; see it counts!” She declared.

When the camera panned to show his official answer was in fact peanut butter on toast, y/n groaned.

“Freddy, that’s so lame” she teased.

“Hey now!” He argued.

She laughed, “I knew you’d say that, you and that stupid peanut butter”.

He chuckled, “it’s comforting, and you know why”.

He was right, the reason she knew his answer was because they’d talked about similar concepts before and he gave that same answer. When she asked why, he told her it was because he found it comforting.

Freddy went on to explain that it was due to how she had made it for him when he was really sick fairly early on in their relationship.

He had been craving bread but she knew he also needed some kind of protein.

But he hadn’t been able to keep much down so she knew he couldn’t handle meat or other heavy things so she’d opted for peanut butter on his requested toast .

Freddy told her it was one of his favorite memories and swears it cured the illness he had.

“And, as precious as that is, it’s so simple, gorgeous” she giggled.

He just smiled and shrugged, blushing as she kissed his cheek while he resumed the video.

Kit asked everyone what his go-to karaoke song would be.

“Something John Legend” y/n answered.

“I’ll give you it” Freddy said as he resumed the video and Kit answered ‘Ordinary People’.

She smiled back at him before waiting for the next question.

“What desert would he be? Who came up with these questions?” Y/n giggled, “I mean, ice-cream, obviously; but, still”.

Freddy laughed, the movement shaking her slightly and hit play.

“Far too easy, next- oh, strawberry” she added as Kit asked what flavor of ice-cream.

Kit asked what his favorite scene to shoot in season 1 was.

“Gun spinning. Oh, no! The goat! Milo!” She exclaimed.

Freddy laughed at her enthusiasm.

“Yes, I got it! But awe, you two are so cute” y/n commented when Kit mentioned how the scene Freddy suggested had been their chemistry read and was therefore important to him.

“What do my parents call me?” Jessie asked.

“Ooh Jason right (authors note: j-sun, other variation? idk sorry)?” Y/n attempted.

Freddy hummed in agreement as he resumed the video.

“What type of influencer would I be?” Jessie smiled.

“Ooh, social activists or like environmental causes” y/n answered loudly.

“Yay!” She cheered, having gotten the question correct.

Freddy smiled to himself as he watched her enjoy herself.

“Her stage debut was All About Eve, right?” Y/n wondered.

“Correct” Freddy acknowledged.

“Damn love, you did remarkable” he complimented.

She grinned, “I know my man and friends, what can I say?”

He laughed and pulled her closer to him until she tilted head back to stare up at him with a smile on her face.

——

Freddy had his arms around her as they laid in bed, his arm reaching out momentarily in order to turn off the side lamp.

As he turned back to her, he saw the thoughtful look her eyes held.

“What is it?” he asked quietly.

She spun slightly to see him better, “I still can’t get over it.”

“Over what?” Freddy wondered.

“Your answer” she said.

He chuckled, “I stick by the peanut butter toast, alright?”

She giggled “no Freddy, the photography one”.

“Oh, the one where I said, ‘my wife’?” He clarified.

She grinned over hearing it yet again.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over hearing you say that in-and-of itself,” she admitted contently, “But seriously, that was so sweet”

“This coming from the person who holds the record for most times a single person has watched Wonder Woman, all just to find my two second appearance to support me” Freddy pointed out.

Y/n giggled softly and snuggled into him as she closed her eyes, “gotta support my man. Goodnight gorgeous“

Freddy blushed and kissed the top of her head, holding her tighter, “Goodnight to my wife”.

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pretty-purple-pages · 13 days

Note

Prompt,

"the world wasn't created equal,"

"Yes it was, then someone decided they were better,"

η καρδιά της Αθήνας

synopsis: the princess of athens falls in love with a thief

pairing: percy x annabeth (percy jackson and the olympians)

content (genre and warnings): mortal!au, princess!annabeth x thief!percy, inspired by aladdin, angst, fighting, no happy ending

word count: 0.5 k

“Percy!”, the princess of Athens hissed, helping the boy climb through her bedroom’s window. Her golden-blond hair shone in the moonlight, making her seem even more gorgeous to him. Gods, she looks so pretty when she’s mad. He grinned sheepishly.

How Annabeth Chase, the sharp-witted strategist, heir to the kingdom of Athens, had fallen in love with a common thief was a huge mystery; even to herself, but deep down she knew she had fallen for him the minute he had helped her escape the palace.

“How many times have I told you to not visit me at night?!”, the princess dragged him and made him sit on her bed, “It's so dangerous; guards, soldiers and you could get injured from climbing my tower! It’s almost 7 stories tall for Athena’s sake!”

The thief, who had already stolen her heart, looked at her with a love struck grin. Standing up, he cupped her cheeks and rested his forehead on hers.

“I missed you too much to care about falling and getting caught, wise girl”, he whispered lowly, his voice only audible to her, “And, as a professional thief, these are insignificant risks”

“You really are a seaweed brain.” she shook her head, giggling.

“Jokes aside, Annie”, his voice suddenly had an urgent undertone as he ushered her to sit down, taking a seat beside her himself, “I don’t want to sneak in anymore. I don’t want to meet in secret. I don’t want you to meet any other suitors when I know that I’m the one who has your heart-”

She paused, processing what he had just said. Does he mean-

“-I want to reveal our relationship. I love you and you love me, what’s stopping us?”, he took her hands in his, a hopeful expression on his face.

She pulled her hands back, exasperated. “I’m the heir, the princess. If they found out that I love someone who isn’t a prince, they’ll kill you!” her heart broke at Percy’s dejected expression, but what she said was the truth.

“But I don’t care about what they say or do! We’ll find a way; like we always have”, he looked at her again; his sea-green eyes pleading, voice cracking, “Please?”

“You don’t care, but I do!”, she didn’t recognize the tone she was using, too furious, too loud and seething like venom on her tongue, “I’m not like you. I’m not a thief. I have responsibilities; unlike you I can’t run away from my problems.”

She took a deep breath, trying to think level-head again, failing as she noticed the wounded expression on Percy’s face. “You and me; it’s forbidden. The world wasn’t created equal”, her voice dropped dangerously low.

“Yes it was”, Jaw clenched, eyes blood-shot, his voice hoarse, “then someone decided they were better.”

Percy Jackson left through the same window he had entered through, leaving Annabeth Chase sitting on her bed, regretting the entire conversation.

tags: @that-multi-fandom-hijabi @loife1m @moondust-on-the-hijabi @summersblossoms @queenie-blackthorn @tinadablackthorn

credits to @rookthornesartistry for the dividers

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flowerpotmage · 5 months

Text

Tight Grip, Broken Dam (14)

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You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest. If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Notes: for chapter: sex dreams, soup, superheroing (now with less peril!)

Word Count: 3.3k

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

Dr. Parker approves your return to Spidering on a Wednesday.

You’re practically buzzing when he does, having been crawling out of your skin stuck in a cycle of gyms and training courses and mundane work for the paper. It doesn’t help that the latest news stories have all been about your disappearance, and have now moved on to theorizing over the likelihood of your death.

You can’t remember the last time it felt so good to put on your suit.

Your body cuts through the crisp night air as you swing through tall city buildings. You stop a mugging, a purse thief (who even does that anymore?), an attempted robbery, and a potential car accident. People cheer and gasp when they see you swing by, hands scrambling for phones to take photos and videos.

It’s a busy night. Petty criminals emboldened by your previous absence act with a particular fearlessness you haven’t seen since the early days, and you bounce from place to place like a video game character chasing quest markers, your path chaotic and messy.

You stop to rest for just a moment on top of a bank and let the sounds of the city roll over you.

Your watch pings: it’s Miguel.

“Hi,” you answer, beaming under your mask at the little bust of him floating above your wrist.

“Back on the streets?”

“More like rooftops,” you joke, lifting your mask so he can see your face. He smiles when your own grin comes into view. “Doctor Parker gave me the all clear.”

“Right,” he says, pausing hesitantly. “How is it?”

Your grin slides into a much softer smile. “It’s going great. I’ve already helped a lot of people tonight.” You pause. “They weren’t sure if I was… still around.”

He nods, understanding.

Sirens call you from a few blocks over, your head jerking up to track their distance. You look back down at your watch.

“I should go get that,” you say, smiling apologetically as you turn and start walking across the rooftop. “Will you… will you be at the apartment tonight?”

“Do you want me to be?”

You pause. Of course you do. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He smiles, half a smirk. “You just want someone to have dinner ready for you when you get home.”

You laugh, pulling your mask down. “I’ll see you later.”

He chuckles, ends the call, and you jump out into the open air over the street.

You’re all over the news the next day. Headlines of City Spider Lives! and Spider Returns and other such variations dot the papers and fill screens. You even trend on TikTok.

Gwen arrives around noon to borrow your washing machine and catch up, when you’re on your couch doing research for your next piece for The Bulletin. The temperature has been dropping, so the balcony doors are closed and you have a blanket across your lap, dressed in one of Miguel’s overnight shirts and a pair of sweatpants.

“Whose shirt is that?” she asks, greetings exchanged, and piling her things into the washing machine.

You blink, looking down at yourself, and glance over the back of the couch into the hallway. Your fingers run over one of the folds over your stomach, the fabric soft and warm. “Uh.”

Gwen turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow, a cheeky grin in place.

“None of your business,” you say, turning back to the laptop balanced on your thighs, legs stretched out like a bridge to the coffee table.

You hear the lid of the machine close, the clicks and beeps that announce it turning on. Gwen swings over the back of the couch to land next to you, graceful as ever.

“So I guess the pair of plates on the dish rack are none of my business too?”

You shoot her a halfhearted warning glare and she holds her hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright,” she says, dropping her hands into her lap. “I’ll leave it alone, but I want you to know I’m happy for you.”

You grumble something noncommittal, face warming. Miguel had been in your apartment again last night—you’re struggling to clearly remember just when the last night without him was—and had stayed for breakfast this morning.

You had cooked for him, for once. Pancakes, with fruit.

“Is this all you know how to cook?” he teased. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I know how to cook other stuff,” you laughed, and turned to look at him.

Your usual positions were reversed, you at the stove and Miguel seated on the other side of the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room. He smiled at you, forearms folded on the counter as he watched you.

“Cereal doesn’t count.”

“Oh, shut it,” you said and turned back to the stove, pretending that your skin wasn’t tingling under his gaze.

“Whatcha working on?” Gwen asks, pulling you back to the present.

“Some filler piece on an animal shelter,” you say. “I’ll get something better soon, now that I’m not ‘sick.’” You lift a hand to draw quotes in the air around the word.

“Hm.”

And you do, when you go into The Bulletin later that afternoon. Ellison delightedly informs you that he’s acquired press passes for an event celebrating donors to the city’s oldest art museum, and even gotten you a plus one.

“That’s pretty big,” you say. “But not normally enough to get you this excited.”

It’s true. Ellison, normally friendly, albeit marginally stressed on nearly every occasion you’ve seen him, is practically bouncing on his feet as he grins.

“Well, the Spider is back.”

“I’m not–”

“I’m not trying to get you to cover the Spider, calm down,” he says. “Karen’s taking it.”

Shit.

Your lungs freeze for a moment. It would be one thing for a colleague to cover your after-hours life, but one you’ve befriended?

“Karen, huh?”

Ellison nods. “We’ve gone long enough without a reporter on this. She’s had success with other vigilante characters before. Daredevil, Punisher. Spider’s probably the safest of the lot she’ll ever meet.”

“Can’t argue there,” you say, half mumbling, mind already racing through how you’ll manage to keep Karen in the dark, because you know with her tenacity she’ll corner the Spider sooner or later.

Miguel slips into your apartment through the balcony. It’s late, so he figures you’re probably asleep—which is why he’s opted to portal to your rooftop and scale down the building for the quiet, mundane entry instead of the far more obtrusive route of portaling straight to your living room. Of course, he could just sleep in his own home, but…

The sliding glass door clicks shut under his hand, white noise of the city now shut out. Turning, he scans over your living room—laptop dark on your kitchen counter, couch blanket unfolded and laying haphazardly on the cushions.

You’re working more again. That’s good.

He turns to your bedroom door, cracked open as if inviting him in, and opens it slowly. His caution is rewarded; you lay there, sleeping, the back of your head the only part of you visible from under the small hill of blankets.

The sight warms his chest, sparking his smile to life.

Miguel’s shirt isn’t on the chair where he left it, so he goes into your closet to get one of the others that had found their way to your apartment and stayed there. He changes there, in your room. He knows you won’t wake if you haven’t already, and so there’s no worry of you catching him stripping from his suit at the foot of your bed.

Not that he would mind you seeing, he realizes with a start. Not just as a fantasy, but really, actually seeing him like this, here, in this moment.

He swallows; turns his head to look at you as he holds his shirt in his hands.

Deep asleep.

Even with this revelation—of fantasy versus reality and the way it sends his mind spinning—his whole being softens at the relaxed expression of your sleeping face, the soft sound of your deep breaths.

He slips on his shirt, his pajama bottoms, and walks around to his side of the bed. Lifting the cover, he slides in beside you. There’s a pause, where he wrestles with the impulse to kiss your face or your hand on the pillow, and instead of pulling you close to his chest under his arm he rolls over to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling.

Sleep comes, eventually.

“Miguel,” you whisper. “Fuck, please–”

You’re under him, face turned to the side on your pillow as he kisses your shoulders, your spine.

“Okay, okay cariño. I’ve got you.”

He lifts himself up on his hands above you, a hand planted on the mattress by your waist and the other finding its place on your skin, sliding across hips that roll and shift against the mattress, searching for any of what he’s denied you thus far.

“Lift for me, sweetheart. There you go,” he praises when you arch your back for him, lifting your hips to give him access.

You’ve been moaning and whining so quietly this whole time, the sounds sweet as sugar and rushing straight to his cock, making his mouth water.

“Miguel,” you plead. “Please…”

“I know, I know mi vida,” he soothes, stroking himself and sliding against your opening. “I’ve got you.”

When he slides in it's so fucking perfect that he can’t help but groan, the sound deep and straight from his soul.

And then, in a change that only makes sense in dreams, you’re above him, pulling his hair back and riding him as you lick his neck. His hands grip your hips, and—

Miguel wakes, skin hot and a weight on his chest: you’ve cuddled up to him at some point in your sleep, a leg hooked around his, dangerously close to–

Mierda.

It's not even dawn yet, going by the lighting and the clock on your bedside table.

He’s had dreams about you before, of course, but this… He closes his eyes, willing the ache between his legs away, using all of his will to not shift his legs wider to provide room and relief. Shocking hell though, it’d be easier to calm down, for his racing heart to slow, if you weren't right there—

Your arm around his middle tightens, then loosens, an unconscious hum escaping your throat.

That’s it. He needs to get out of here. It’s not easy, disentangling himself from your sleeping body without waking you, but somehow he does it, his hardness finally giving up and softening.

It comes back later though, after he’s made you breakfast and left and is in the shower in his own home, the dream rising unbidden behind his eyes. He indulges in the images, brow furrowed and panting softly as he wraps his hand around himself and lets the images in his head play through past the moment he woke.

“Shit, shit!”

You scramble from the couch to the stove, where the lid on a pot of soup is starting to rattle as the contents inside boil over. You turn down the heat, remove the lid, and stir the contents—slowly, slowly it simmers down.

You’re making soup for Miguel, a surprise to prove his teasing remarks wrong. You've dug out an old recipe from your aunt, one she got from your grandmother that you’ve been told your mom loved growing up. It's something you make every fall when the air starts to get that little bit of bite to it—and you think Miguel will like it too.

The soup is saved, thankfully. You ladle the steaming hot contents into a tupperware after changing—Spider suit under your clothes, a comfortable shirt and loose jacket—package the two containers into an old tote bag with napkins and spoons and then portal to HQ.

It’s gray in Miguel’s dimension, the skies overcast and disproportionately bright: the sort of overcast that hurts your eyes more than a clear sunny day, the sun behind the clouds turning the sheet of gray into cold diffused light. Even the climate-controlled space that hosts Miguel’s Spider Society has a hint of the chill from outside—far easier to keep the building cool at this altitude than to heat it, apparently.

Soup was the right call.

You make your way through the weaving beams and paths, swinging through the open space on your webs before landing at the entrance to Miguel’s lab.

“Whatcha got in there?” Lyla pops up, eye level with yours.

“Soup.” You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on the corner of your lips.

“Sure hope you didn't spill any on your way in,” she teases, flickering from one spot to the next to remain in front of you as you walk further into the dark hall, circling a pointed finger at you. “With all that web-slinging.”

“Of course not. I used the good tupperware.”

Miguel isn't at his multi screen platform this time, but in one of the side nooks, working on something you can't see on an old-school tablet.

“Guess who's here!” Lyla pops up near Miguel’s hunched frame.

Miguel lifts his head to look at Lyla, then straightens in his seat as he turns to look at you over his shoulder, creased eyebrows relaxing into something softer, more open.

“Hi,” you say, unable to help the smile that spreads on your lips as he turns to face you more fully.

“Hello,” he says, then raises an eyebrow, nodding at the tote bag on your shoulder. “What’s in the bag?”

You shrug the bag off your shoulder and walk forward to join him at the workbench. “Whatcha working on?”

He hums, turning to continue facing you as you walk closer and come to a stop next to his seat. “I see. Information for information, huh?”

You chuckle. “Soup,” you say, pulling the containers out and answering his earlier question, turning to look at him.

He’s smiling at you, still seated in his chair, and your stomach flips. An image flashes through your mind, so fast it almost unbalances you; Miguel wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in for a one-armed hug, leaning his head against you in a moment of pure, warm affection, and you kissing the top of his head. Nothing far from what occurs in your home, or your bed at night, but… never here.

Miguel turns to look at the soup you’ve placed on his workbench, the clear lids steamed opaque by the food inside.

“You made this?”

“Contrary to your very firm opinion, I can make food other than cereal.” You nudge his shoulder, pushing gently with your hand. “Family recipe.”

Miguel looks at you again, pushing his tablet aside. “I should get another chair in here.”

“What, just for me?”

He hums in affirmative as you take a seat on the workbench, pulling out two spoons and the napkins you packed.

Your face heats, cracking open the lid on your meal as Miguel cracks open the lid on his.

You nudge his arm with your knee. “Your turn. What are you working on?”

Miguel raises an eyebrow at you, lifting a spoonful of soup to his mouth. He gives a surprised hum. “This is good.”

You shake your head, smile only somewhat rueful at his avoidance of your question. “I told you I can make food other than cereal.” You look down at your own container, held in one hand as you perch on his workbench. “It’s a family recipe.”

It’s Miguel’s turn to nudge your leg with his arm. “Thank you for bringing it.”

“Of course. You’re terrible at feeding yourself at work, so…” You trail off with a teasing shrug, laughing when he nudges your leg again, this time in playful indignation, and devolving into laughter when he raises a serious eyebrow. “What!”

He places the soup down on the bench, standing up and leaning over you, saying your name in playful warning. “You didn’t even have groceries in your fridge before me.”

Your face flushes, heat zinging from your crown and your toes to meet in your stomach. The laughter bubbles to a stop in your throat as Miguel towers over your seat on the workbench surface.

You swallow. “Two things can be true at once.”

His eyes flick between yours. Everything freezes, even your breaths, and you try not to blink for fear of losing the fragile moment—whatever it might be—and then Miguel lowers his eyes, a swift downward stroke past your lips, and steps to the side to sit on the bench next to you.

“Alright, alright,” he says. “You make a fair point.”

You’re glad he doesn’t have super hearing, because your heart is thundering as you zero in on your little thing of soup to ground yourself. Miguel is equally silent for an extended moment—did he feel it too?—and when your racing pulse has slowed but the heat lingers in your face, he speaks again.

“How’s work?”

“I’m finally getting good assignments again,” you say, taking a small spoonful of your soup. “I get to go to a gala, write about all the big wigs and how much money they raise for whatever charity.”

“I’d like to read your work sometime,” he says, between his own spoonfuls. “If you don’t mind.”

You look over at him. He looks at you.

“Sure.”

Miguel smiles.

It’s easy to slip back into old routines. When you’re not working from home then you’re out as Spider, and when you’re not doing either of those things you’re wrapped up in bed and sleeping your long days away.

Miguel has to return to old routines as well, long days and nights at HQ and as the Spider-Man of his dimension. Even on the nights you don’t see him you know he visits, the bed warm when you wake up and food on the stove waiting for you.

Tonight, a week into your return, you’re out in the city once again. It’s a slow night, the air cold and crisp with the impending change of seasons. Bikers rumble past on the street below, one last ride before the weather changes too and leaves the streets too slippery, too dangerous.

You have your mask pulled up over your nose, exposing just enough to eat the hot slice of pizza bought with cash from a small spot near Hell’s Kitchen. A small thud behind you has you dropping the last few bites and pulling down your mask, spinning to face your surprise guest.

He stands there, every inch covered in deep red body armor, even his eyes hidden behind glassy red lenses that shine back a funhouse mirror reflection of yourself. The shade of red he wears is just this side of too warm to be reminiscent of blood and instead calls to mind rust and flames. Every angle of his body is tense, straight, lines culminating in two small points on the fore of his helmet-mask: the horns of the devil.

You watch as his head tilts slightly, chin tipped down as if lifting his ears.

Then you speak, uncomfortable with the silence of waiting.

“Daredevil.”

The reaction is instant, his head lifting and tilting like a dog who’s just heard an animal outside.

“Spider. Welcome back.”

You narrow your eyes under your mask, examining his changed posture: more confident, just a degree more relaxed, disarmed.

“Thank you.”

Silence falls again, the space between you interrupted by the low whistle and whoosh of a cold breeze.

“Am I on your turf?” you ask, just a shade apprehensive, joking to ease the strangeness of this encounter.

That almost earns you a chuckle, and certainly earns you a grin. “No. You’re more than welcome here.”

“Hm.” You smile under your mask, tilting your head as you drag your eyes over him. “Thank you. Cool suit.”

His grin remains, spreading wider. “Thank you.” A pause, a gesture of his hand towards you. “Yours too.”

The silence lingers again, the both of you sizing one another up in a new way.

“I should…” You point your thumb over your shoulder.

Daredevil nods.

“Nice to meet you,” you offer, shooting a web off to the taller building across the street. He gives another nod, and you're gone.

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bronx-bomber87 · 9 months

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Good Morning! Super excited for these next set of eps to review.

We’ve reached the iconic and pivotal DOD eps. I’m nervously excited to review these. I want to do them justice. They are momentous for not just Chenford but the entire series. Rosalind Dyer is one of my fav recurring baddies. I loved Annie from Castle as well. Was psyched she would be joining The Rookie. This was a rare one where I got to use all the gifs I wanted to. Yay. Kid in a Chenford candy store haha Thank you to all the wonderful gif makers out there. You are the real MVP's. Let’s get this started :)

2x10 The Dark Side

We start with Lucy and the guys out for a post work drink. Armstrong is there as well. They’re talking about Jackson dating a celebrity. Asking how that is? Lucy says they’re happy if he’s happy. Nick calls her bluff and says ‘Liar.’ LMAO Lucy cracks and says men suck ha They sure can. That the single men in LA suck. That whenever they find out she’s a cop they freak out. (To touch on not dating a cop bit. It is only a mistake when it’s not Tim. Let’s be real.) Especially while she's still a rookie just not a good idea (cough Nolan cough) He was never a good decision though....not even a little bit. I'll die on that hill haha

Armstrong joins the convo and comes in with some solid advice. ‘Those aren’t men they’re boys. Real men are not afraid of a strong woman.’ Your real man just isn’t ready yet my dear. Nor are you. I really love this scene though. I enjoyed Nick a lot as a character. Poor Lucy she goes on her 'Sister Officer Lucy Chen' rant ha Classic. Oh the irony of this convo. In S5 she definitely isn't in a nunnery anymore heh. That is quite awhile away from this point though. Have to note how pretty she looks in this scene. Her outfit is simple but she looks stunning.

Lucy leaves the table to get another round. That’s when Lucy runs into Caleb….really unfortunate that’s his name. That’s my BIL's name haha He seems normal enough with his flirting with Lucy. Both of them being ignored for another drink by the bartender. He's making her laugh and appearing nice and kind. Ugh run Lucy run…Their moment gets interrupted by Lucy noticing a guy stealing tips. She walks away from the convo and apologizes. End ups arresting the thief. The way she takes him down is bad ass I have to say. (Tim would be proud) Says 'Surprise I’m a cop’ haha

Roll call comes around and they find out about Rosalind Dyer. A rare unicorn in their world. A female serial killer. She’s agreed to show them the 3 bodies that were never found. In exchange she gets life with no parole instead of the death penalty. Everyone’s day is now centered around this. Tim and Lucy discuss her past murders. Lucy telling Tim she was in college when they found the first victims.

That it was all anyone could talk about, wondering how a woman could be so barbaric? Tim shares his own story about it. How he worked a scene for the 4th victim. That he was advised not to look at the body. How he wish he hadn’t… The hindsight of watching this scene unfold right before they run into Caleb. It’s bone chilling to think about. Their convo being framed around this before he shows up.

Caleb shows up and Tim is immediately suspicious and does not like this guy. His face has me rolling the entire time. Gives Caleb a hard time about the word 'Perp'. His facial expressions I can not LOL Now part of this reaction is his cop gut. I truly believe that. Not trusting whoever this guy is for Lucy. His default is suspicion. The fierce protector coming out to play in this scene.

I think the rest of his reaction is him just not liking this guy being interested in Lucy. Jealously thy name is Timothy Bradford. Its seeping out of him and he can't stop himself. He's completely forgotten he's dating one of her closest friends in this moment. Written all over his face how territorial he’s being right now. I always love me some protective/jealous Tim. This scene and honestly this entire episode is full of that.

Lucy’s face is screaming ‘chill out’ the entire interaction. She's basically scolding him with her eyes above. They have a mini silent conversation with their eyes before the scene continues. If that isn't the most married look they've had so far. I love it so much. He definitely looks reprimanded in that second gif above. Tim is as transparent as person can be in this scene. Not even trying to hide it a little bit. Caleb has shown up and Tim's guard and protective nature are out in full force. Doesn't like this guy just showing up and sniffing around at all.

Caleb is clearly nervous around Tim (as he should be..) It's too funny he keeps trying regardless to talk to Lucy. Tim deftly snags the paper out of the air. She didn't have a chance of grabbing it. Caleb has to sense how much Tim doesn't want him here. He could not be less welcoming of this man. Tim reads the paper and he asks if Caleb has a last name LOL He says Wright. The irony of that last name...

I doubt our boy even knows why he’s reacting this way to Caleb. Only that he is and very strongly at that. All his feelings when it comes to Lucy are muddled and confusing for him. Yet he acts on them anyway. From the moment this guy showed up the green eyed monster was present. Tim continues to grill him. He asks what he does for a living? Says if it’s a screenwriter he’s going in a cell. He really hates screenwriters haha A theme through out the show for him.

Eric’s facial expressions during this entire scene truly is perfection. Look at the way he looks at Caleb as he leaves. If looks could kill he would be a dead man. Also you can see the mask on Caleb drop when he turns away from them (shudder). The immense distrust written all over Tim's rigid body language. You'd have to be blind not to see it. Both of their faces above are a summary of the entire scene. Lucy is happy to have caught the eye of a 'decent' guy. Tim doesn't trust this guy as far as he can throw him.

Tim doesn’t even think he’s done anything wrong till he turns around and sees her face. Kudos to Melissa for the great reaction. He says 'What?' All innocent like he didn't just drag that guy through the mud. Treat him like a criminal they deal with on the daily. She is so affronted and honestly confused as hell with his reaction. Her face basically saying 'What the hell was that?'

From the moment Caleb shows up to the moment he leaves Tim is NOT pleased with his presence. Lucy is truly confused as to why he is acting this way. She can’t put together why he was trying to kill that entire interaction. We all know Lucy included (deep down) this was jealously thorough and through. But she chalks it up to him being stressed about how crazy everything is right now. Sure that’s it Lucy…She demands the paper back with just her face and outreached hand. Tim is shocked she wants the number of this doofus. He relents and unwillingly hands it back to her. Almost rolling his eyes as he does so.

They’re driving in a caravan to the first burial site. Lucy is looking at Calebs online profile in the car. Tim snaps at her to focus. That this is going to be most dangerous day she’s ever going to spend on the job. Oh the weight of that comment when you know these eps….They both have no idea how true that’s going to be. Might seem like he’s mad when really he’s protecting her by getting her to focus. It’s his way of doing it. I also think it's a little frustration bleeding over from the whole Caleb thing. Not that he's going to put that together right now. Hell doesn't even realize how territorial and jealous he just was.

We rejoin Tim and Lucy once they arrive at the first spot. They're talking about Rosalind during this 'Hike' to find the remaining bodies. Tim asks if she’s less scary in the light of day? Lucy tells him no…but mentions how smart she must be. To have gotten away with this for so long undetected. Lucy smartly mentions there’s a play here they’re not seeing.

Tim tells her it’s just to jerk them around. Oh my love it is far more than that. Lucy is so sharp to observe this hike has to be more than just her deal. She is proven right when they find a fresher body in one of the grave sites with the old one. It’s obvious she has a partner on the outside they just don’t know who…

Lucy is looking at Caleb’s “profile” again. Watching a video of him with a puppy. Jealous/Protective Tim makes his next appearance. Could not be more obvious if he tried. Not a fan of her being enamored by this guy. He makes a snide remark saying I bet that’s not even his puppy. It’s scary how spot on he was with Caleb the entire time. It’s mainly from jealously and being protective of her, but it’s frightening how dead on his cop gut was. He turned out to right about everything with him.

Lucy naturally gives him push back and says she just wants to enjoy a cute puppy. That it’s been an awful day. Can't she just do that? Jealous Tim won't agree with her. So he is a little shit and says 'This your first decomp right? ' Watching her face go from happy to grossed out LOL Oh Tim. He knows how bad this smell is going to be for her and is enjoying it haha The way she follows after him is too funny. Melissa is also amazing at expressing so much as well.

The eerie part of this scene is it’s them being the ones to discover the DOD tattoo… There are so many forewarnings in this episode for her. For them. Literally smacking us in the face with them. That could’ve been her if things had gone wrong... Ugh my heart. They find out the newer victim was suffocated…What an awful way to die. I’m asthmatic and it gives me a pre-asthma attack just thinking about it.

A light hearted part of this scene is once again the lack of personal space. Ah personal space. They don't know her and never will. We're all ok with this notion. Nolan ends up getting Rosalind to lead them to the second site. They find a new body in it with a DOD Tattoo. The freshest one yet. They realize it’s every three months. That 12/09/19 is the the next DOD. John notes it’s 12/08 they have a day to find the next victim.

Tim and Lucy join Armstrong at the jail to search Rosalind cell once again. Trying to find some connection. A way her and this person have been communicating. Nick asks where her books are and they say they sent them back. He asks for every book she's read in the last 6 months.

They’re searching all the books and of course Lucy is the one to crack the code. I love it. Finds something in the binding. Its a coded piece of paper. She figures out the cypher fairly quickly. You know Tim loves how damn smart she is. He’s impressed. She figures out a name from the code. My girl. Bryan Coleman. Funny that doesn’t sound like Caleb Wright….

Harper and Nolan end up saving the next girl. They find out he’s been using the old abandoned zoo as his staging ground. What kills me is them saving her condemns Lucy. They stopped him from scratching that sick itch. Grey tells them all to go home and rest. Lucy spins around and tells Tim she’s just going to go home and crash.

Tim tells her that’s a mistake and gives her the advice that will haunt him in the next episode. Hell for quite awhile if I’m being honest. He will carry this moment with him for a long time. Says after a hardcore assignment she needs to blow off some steam. Find a way to decompress. If she doesn’t she’ll never get any sleep.

Lucy is super cute asking if he's really telling her to go get a drink instead? He tells her yes. Preferably a strong one even with another human being. We all know who that human being is going to be….Side note I adore the fact that he always opens the door for her. Doesn't even realize he's doing that. Just does it out of habit. Her real man standing right in front of her but it is far too early for that hehe

Literally makes me sick to watch her scene with Caleb. My skin crawls knowing where it’s headed. He took advantage of Lucy with her guard down. Her cop eyes we're retired for the night. Just trying to decompress. We go back to the station where Grey tells John and Nick they found a body at the old zoo. Bryan Coleman. Which can only mean one thing as we go back to Lucy. That Caleb is the apprentice….

She goes from giggly and relaxed to sheer terror in a matter of moments. He drugged her and Lucy is slowly realizing the situation she is now in. He also snags her phone before she can use it. Sadly she is over powered easily due the drug he gave her. Then sticks her in the trunk of his car. The ep ends there.

It’s a crazy stressful two-parter. So damn good though. I remember when this first premiered how hard it was to wait for the next episode. I’m pre emotional just thinking about analyzing the next episode. Can’t wait to do it though.

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Side Notes-Non Chenford

Wopez good scenes not many but really good. Wes clearing not handling his post traumatic stress well. Mixing his prescription with alcohol. Angela coming home asking if he was trying to kill himself. He says I don’t know… Not a great answer bud.

The whole Rosalind SL. It’s so dark but so good. Getting a deeper look into Nick and seeing some chinks in his armor. What he sacrificed to catch her. It’s very good. I enjoyed his character a lot and getting more depth with him as well.

Thank you as always to those that like/comment/reblog these reviews. It’s means the world to me. I love doing these and they take time to assemble. But they’re so worth doing to enjoy this rewatch together. I’m also enjoying the hell out of analyzing these eps and our beloved couple. I’ll see you all in 2x11 :)

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