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#Read me like an open book part 2
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Hmm, no guarantees I'd write these, but they've been on my mind the last couple days. But, if I added a couple more chapters to AWLB: Remnant's, namely, one wherein Jen talks a bit about her relationship with the Afton's, and another that talks more in depth about the incident mentioned briefly in part 1 with Roxy, would those be of interest?
I'd also like to say in regards to the Roxy one, I'd do my best to tie it to what's already been stated in the fic, but my ideas with her have changed a decent bit since then, so there may be some inconsistencies. ^^; I really do need to go back and re-do part 1 eventually. The overall story would stay the same sure, I'd just like to try and tell it a bit better and rework a few details.
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hussyknee · 11 months
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17/12/23 this masterlist has been completely revamped with free access to all material. It will be updated and edited periodically so please click on my username and reblog the current version directly from me if you're able.
14/8/24 reboosting this post with How to Help Palestine updated. Please scroll to the bottom to donate or boost the links.
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The Big Damn List Of Stuff They Said You Didn't Know
(Yes, it's a lot. Just choose your preferred medium and then pick one.)
Podcasts
Backgrounders and Quick Facts
Interactive Maps
Teach-Out Resources
Reading Material (free)
Films and Documentaries (free)
Non-Governmental Organizations
Social Media
How You Can Help <- URGENT!!!
Podcasts
Cocktails & Capitalism: The Story of Palestine Part 1, Part 3
It Could Happen Here: The Cheapest Land is Bought with Blood, Part 2, The Balfour Declaration
Citations Needed: Media narratives and consent manufacturing around Israel-Palestine and the Gaza Siege
The Deprogram: Free Palestine, ft. decolonizatepalestine.com.
Backgrounders and Quick Facts
The Palestine Academy: Palestine 101
Institute for Middle East Understanding: Explainers and Quick Facts
Interactive Maps
Visualizing Palestine
Teach-Out Resources
1) Cambridge UCU and Pal Society
Palestine 101
Intro to Palestine Film + Art + Literature
Resources for Organising and Facilitating)
2) The Jadaliya YouTube Channel of the Arab Studies Institute
Gaza in Context Teach-in series
War on Palestine podcast
Updates and Discussions of news with co-editors Noura Erakat and Mouin Rabbani.
3) The Palestine Directory
History (virtual tours, digital archives, The Palestine Oral History Project, Documenting Palestine, Queering Palestine)
Cultural History (Palestine Open Maps, Overdue Books Zine, Palestine Poster Project)
Contemporary Voices in the Arts
Get Involved: NGOs and campaigns to help and support.
3) PalQuest Interactive Encyclopedia of the Palestine Question.
4) The Palestine Remix by Al Jazeera
Books and Articles
Free reading material
My Gdrive of Palestine/Decolonization Literature (nearly all the books recommended below + books from other recommended lists)
Five free eBooks by Verso
Three Free eBooks on Palestine by Haymarket
LGBT Activist Scott Long's Google Drive of Palestine Freedom Struggle Resources
Recommended Reading List
Academic Books
Edward Said (1979) The Question of Palestine, Random House
Ilan Pappé (2002)(ed) The Israel/Palestine Question, Routledge
Ilan Pappé (2006) The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine, OneWorld Publications
Ilan Pappé (2011) The Forgotten Palestinians: A History of the Palestinians in Israel, Yale University Press
Ilan Pappé (2015) The Idea of Israel: A History of Power and Knowledge, Verso Books
Ilan Pappé (2017) The Biggest Prison On Earth: A History Of The Occupied Territories, OneWorld Publications
Ilan Pappé (2022) A History of Modern Palestine, Cambridge University Press
Rosemary Sayigh (2007) The Palestinians: From Peasants to Revolutionaries, Bloomsbury
Andrew Ross (2019) Stone Men: the Palestinians who Built Israel, Verso Books
Rashid Khalidi (2020) The Hundred Years’ War on Palestine: A History of Settler Colonialism and Resistance 1917–2017
Ariella Azoulay (2011) From Palestine to Israel: A Photographic Record of Destruction and State Formation, 1947-1950, Pluto Press
Ariella Azoulay and Adi Ophir (2012) The One-State Condition: Occupation and Democracy in Israel/Palestine, Stanford University Press.
Jeff Halper (2010) An Israeli in Palestine: Resisting Dispossession, Redeeming Israel, Pluto Press
Jeff Halper (2015) War Against the People: Israel, the Palestinians and Global Pacification
Jeff Halper (2021) Decolonizing Israel, Liberating Palestine: Zionism, Settler Colonialism, and the Case for One Democratic State, Pluto Press
Anthony Loewenstein (2023) The Palestine Laboratory: How Israel exports the Technology of Occupation around the World
Noura Erakat (2019) Justice for Some: Law and the Question of Palestine, Stanford University Press
Neve Gordon (2008) Israel’s Occupation, University of California Press
Joseph Massad (2006) The Persistence of the Palestinian Question: Essays on Zionism and the Palestinians, Routledge
Memoirs
Edward Said (1986) After the Last Sky: Palestine Lives, Columbia University PEdward Saidress
Edward Said (2000) Out of Place; A Memoir, First Vintage Books
Mourid Barghouti (2005) I saw Ramallah, Bloomsbury
Hatim Kanaaneh (2008) A Doctor in Galilee: The Life and Struggle of a Palestinian in Israel, Pluto Press
Raja Shehadeh (2008) Palestinian Walks: Into a Vanishing Landscape, Profile Books
Ghada Karmi (2009) In Search of Fatima: A Palestinian Story, Verso Books
Vittorio Arrigoni (2010) Gaza Stay Human, Kube Publishing
Ramzy Baroud (2010) My Father Was a Freedom Fighter: Gaza's Untold Story, Pluto Press
Izzeldin Abuelaish (2011) I Shall Not Hate: A Gaza Doctor’s Journey on the Road to Peace and Human Dignity, Bloomsbury
Atef Abu Saif (2015) The Drone Eats with Me: A Gaza Diary, Beacon Press
Anthologies
Voices from Gaza - Insaniyyat (The Society of Palestinian Anthropologists)
Letters From Gaza • Protean Magazine
Salma Khadra Jayyusi (1992) Anthology of Modern Palestinian Literature, Columbia University Press
ASHTAR Theatre (2010) The Gaza Monologues
Refaat Alreer (ed) (2014) Gaza Writes Back, Just World Books
Refaat Alreer, Laila El-Haddad (eds) (2015) Gaza Unsilenced, Just World Books
Cate Malek and Mateo Hoke (eds)(2015) Palestine Speaks: Narrative of Life under Occupation, Verso Books
Jehad Abusalim, Jennifer Bing (eds) (2022) Light in Gaza: Writings Born of Fire, Haymarket Books
Short Story Collections
Ghassan Kanafani, Hilary Kilpatrick (trans) (1968) Men in the Sun and Other Palestinian Stories, Lynne Rienner Publishers
Ghassan Kanafani, Barbara Harlow, Karen E. Riley (trans) (2000) Palestine’s Children: Returning to Haifa and Other Stories, Lynne Rienner Publishers
Atef Abu Saif (2014) The Book of Gaza: A City in Short Fiction, Comma Press
Samira Azzam, Ranya Abdelrahman (trans) (2022) Out Of Time: The Collected Short Stories of Samira Azzam
Sonia Sulaiman (2023) Muneera and the Moon; Stories Inspired by Palestinian Folklore
Essay Collections
Edward W. Said (2000) Reflections on Exile and Other Essays, Harvard University Press
Salim Tamari (2008) Mountain against the Sea: Essays on Palestinian Society and Culture, University of California Press
Fatma Kassem (2011) Palestinian Women: Narratives, histories and gendered memory, Bloombsbury
Ramzy Baroud (2019) These Chains Will Be Broken: Palestinian Stories of Struggle and Defiance in Israeli Prisons, Clarity Press
Novels
Sahar Khalifeh (1976) Wild Thorns, Saqi Books
Liyana Badr (1993) A Balcony over the Fakihani, Interlink Books
Hala Alyan (2017) Salt Houses, Harper Books
Susan Abulhawa (2011) Mornings in Jenin, Bloomsbury
Susan Abulhawa (2020) Against the Loveless World, Bloomsbury
Graphic novels
Joe Sacco (2001) Palestine
Joe Sacco (2010) Footnotes in Gaza
Naji al-Ali (2009) A Child in Palestine, Verso Books
Mohammad Sabaaneh (2021) Power Born of Dreams: My Story is Palestine, Street Noise Book*
Poetry
Fady Joudah (2008) The Earth in the Attic, Sheridan Books,
Ghassan Zaqtan, Fady Joudah (trans) (2012) Like a Straw Bird It Follows Me and Other Poems, Yale University Press
Hala Alyan (2013) Atrium: Poems, Three Rooms Press*
Mohammed El-Kurd (2021) Rifqa, Haymarket Books
Mosab Abu Toha (2022) Things You May Find Hidden in My Ear: Poems from Gaza, City Lights Publishers
Tawfiq Zayyad (2023) We Are Here to Stay, Smokestack Books*
The Works of Mahmoud Darwish
Poems
Rafeef Ziadah (2011) We Teach Life, Sir
Nasser Rabah (2022) In the Endless War
Refaat Alareer (2011) If I Must Die
Hiba Abu Nada (2023) I Grant You Refuge/ Not Just Passing
[All books except the ones starred are available in my gdrive. I'm adding more each day. But please try and buy whatever you're able or borrow from the library. Most should be available in the discounted Free Palestine Reading List by Pluto Press, Verso and Haymarket Books.]
Human Rights Reports & Documents
Information on current International Court of Justice case on ‘Legal Consequences arising from the Policies and Practices of Israel in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem’
UN Commission of Inquiry Report 2022
UN Special Rapporteur Report on Apartheid 2022
Amnesty International Report on Apartheid 2022
Human Rights Watch Report on Apartheid 2021
Report of the United Nations Fact-Finding Mission on the Gaza Conflict’ 2009 (‘The Goldstone Report’)
Advisory Opinion on the Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, International Court of Justice, 9 July 2004
Films
Documentaries
Jenin, Jenin (2003) dir. Mohammed Bakri
Massacre (2005) dir. Monica Borgmann, Lokman Slim, Hermann Theissen
Slingshot HipHop (2008) dir. Jackie Reem Salloum
Waltz with Bashir (2008) dir. Ari Folman † (also on Amazon Prime)
Tears of Gaza (2010) dir. Vibeke Løkkeberg (also on Amazon Prime)
5 Broken Cameras (2011) dir. Emad Burnat (also on Amazon Prime)
The Gatekeepers (2012) dir. Dror Moreh (also on Amazon Prime)
The Great Book Robbery (2012) | Al Jazeera English
Al Nakba (2013) | Al Jazeera (5-episode docu-series)
The Village Under the Forest (2013) dir. Mark J. Kaplan
Where Should The Birds Fly (2013) dir. Fida Qishta
Naila and the Uprising (2017) (also on Amazon Prime)
GAZA (2019) dir. Andrew McConnell and Garry Keane
Gaza Fights For Freedom (2019) dir. Abby Martin
Little Palestine: Diary Of A Siege (2021) dir. Abdallah Al Khatib 
Palestine 1920: The Other Side of the Palestinian Story (2021) | Al Jazeera World Documentary
Gaza Fights Back (2021) | MintPress News Original Documentary | dir. Dan Cohen
Innocence (2022) dir. Guy Davidi
Short Films
Fatenah (2009) dir. Ahmad Habash
Gaza-London (2009) dir. Dina Hamdan
Condom Lead (2013) dir. Tarzan Nasser, Arab Nasser
OBAIDA (2019) | Defence for Children Palestine
Theatrical Films
Divine Intervention (2002) | dir. Elia Suleiman (also on Netflix)
Paradise Now (2005) dir Hany Abu-Assad (also on Amazon Prime)
Lemon Tree (2008) (choose auto translate for English subs) (also on Amazon Prime)
It Must Be Heaven (2009) | dir. Elia Suleiman †
The Promise (2010) mini-series dir. Peter Kosminsky (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)
Habibi (2011)* dir. Susan Youssef
Omar (2013)* dir. Hany Abu-Assad †
3000 Nights (2015)* dir. Mai Masri
Foxtrot (2017) dir. Samuel Maoz (also on Amazon Prime)
The Time that Remains (2019) dir. Elia Suleiman †
Gaza Mon Amour (2020) dir. Tarzan Nasser, Arab Nasser †
The Viewing Booth (2020) dir. Ra'anan Alexandrowicz (on Amazon Prime and Apple TV)
Farha (2021)* | dir. Darin J. Sallam
Palestine Film Institute Archive
All links are for free viewing. The ones marked with a star (*) can be found on Netflix, while the ones marked † can be downloaded for free from my Mega account.
If you find Guy Davidi's Innocence anywhere please let me know, I can't find it for streaming or download even to rent or buy.
In 2018, BDS urged Netflix to dump Fauda, a series created by former members of IOF death squads that legitimizes and promotes racist violence and war crimes, to no avail. Please warn others to not give this series any views. BDS has not called for a boycott of Netflix. ]
NGOs
The Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) Movement
Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Monitor
UNRWA
Palestine Defence for Children International
Palestinian Feminist Collective
Al-Shabaka: The Palestinian Policy Network
Addameer Prisoner Support and Human Rights Association
Institute for Palestine Studies
Al Haq
Artists for Palestine
The Palestine Museum
Jewish Currents
B’Tselem
DAWN
Social Media
Palestnians on Tumblr
@el-shab-hussein
@killyfromblame
@apollos-olives
@fairuzfan
@palipunk
@sar-soor
@nabulsi
@wearenotjustnumbers2
@90-ghost
@tamarrud
@northgazaupdates
Allies and advocates (not Palestinian)
@bloglikeanegyptian beautiful posts that read like op-eds
@vyorei daily news roundups
@luthienne resistance through prose
@decolonize-the-left scoop on the US political plans and impacts
@feluka
@anneemay
(Please don't expect any of these blogs to be completely devoted to Palestine allyship; they do post regularly about it but they're still personal blogs and post whatever else they feel like. Do not harrass them.)
Gaza journalists
Motaz Azaiza IG: @motaz_azaiza | Twitter: @azaizamotaz9 | TikTok: _motaz.azaiza (left Gaza as of Jan 23)
Bisan Owda IG and TikTok: wizard_bisan1 | Twitter: @wizardbisan
Saleh Aljafarawi IG: @saleh_aljafarawi | Twitter: @S_Aljafarawi | TikTok: @saleh_aljafarawi97
Plestia Alaqad IG: @byplestia | TikTok: @plestiaaqad (left Gaza)
Wael Al-Dahdouh IG: @wael_eldahdouh | Twitter: @WaelDahdouh (left Gaza as of Jan 13)
Hind Khoudary IG: @hindkhoudary | Twitter: @Hind_Gaza
Ismail Jood IG and TikTok: @ismail.jood (announced end of coverage on Jan 25)
Yara Eid IG: @eid_yara | Twitter: @yaraeid_
Eye on Palestine IG: @eye.on.palestine | Twitter: @EyeonPalestine | TikTok: @eyes.on.palestine
Muhammad Shehada Twitter: @muhammadshehad2
(Edit: even though some journos have evacuated, the footage up to the end of their reporting is up on their social media, and they're also doing urgent fundraisers to get their families and friends to safety. Please donate or share their posts.)
News organisations
The Electronic Intifada Twitter: @intifada | IG: @electronicintifada
Quds News Network Twitter and Telegram: @QudsNen | IG: @qudsn (Arabic)
Times of Gaza IG: @timesofgaza | Twitter: @Timesofgaza | Telegram: @TIMESOFGAZA
The Palestine Chronicle Twitter: @PalestineChron | IG: @palestinechron | @palestinechronicle
Al-Jazeera Twitter: @AJEnglish | IG and TikTok: @aljazeeraenglish, @ajplus
Middle East Eye IG and TikTok: @middleeasteye | Twitter: @MiddleEastEye
Democracy Now Twitter and IG: @democracynow TikTok: @democracynow.org
Mondoweiss IG and TikTok: @mondoweiss | Twitter: @Mondoweiss
The Intercept Twitter and IG: @theintercept
MintPress Twitter: @MintPressNews | IG: mintpress
Novara Media Twitter and IG: @novaramedia
Truthout Twitter and IG: @truthout
Palestnians on Other Social Media
Mouin Rabbani: Middle East analyst specializing in the Arab-Israeli conflict and Palestinian affairs. Twitter: @MouinRabbani
Noura Erakat: Legal scholar, human rights attorney, specialising in Israeli–Palestinian conflict. Twitter: @4noura | IG: @nouraerakat | (http://www.nouraerakat.com/)
Hebh Jamal: Journalist in Germany. IG and Twitter: @hebh_jamal
Ghada Sasa: PhD candidate in International Relations, green colonialism, and Islam in Canada. Twitter: @sasa_ghada | IG: @ghadasasa48
Taleed El Sabawi: Assistant professor of law and researcher in public health. Twitter: @el_sabawi | IG
Lexi Alexander: Filmmaker and activist. Twitter: @LexiAlex | IG: @lexialexander1
Mariam Barghouti: Writer, blogger, researcher, and journalist. Twitter: @MariamBarghouti | IG: @mariambarghouti
Rasha Abdulhadi: Queer poet, author and cultural organizer. Twitter: @rashaabdulhadi
Mohammed el-Kurd: Writer and activist from Jerusalem. IG: @mohammedelkurd | Twitter: @m7mdkurd
Ramy Abdu: Founder and Chairman of the Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Monitor. Twitter: @RamyAbdu
Subhi: Founder of The Palestine Academy website. IG: @sbeih.jpg |TikTok @iamsbeih | Twitter: @iamsbeih
Allies
Lowkey (Kareem Dennis): Rapper, activist, video and podcast host for MintPress. Twitter: @LowkeyOnline IG: @lowkeyonline
Francesca Albanese: UN Special Rapporteur on the Occupied Territories. Twitter: @FranceskAlbs
Sana Saeed: Journalist and media critic, host and senior producer at Al-Jazeera Plus. IG: @sanaface | Twitter: @SanaSaeed
Shailja Patel: Poet, playwright, activist, founding member of Kenyans For Peace, Truth and Justice. Twitter: @shailjapatel
Jairo I. Fúnez-Flores: Researcher in curriculum studies, decolonial theory, social movements. Twitter: @Jairo_I_Funez
Jack Dodson: Journalist and Filmmaker. Twitter: @JackDodson IG: @jdodson4
Imani Barbarin: Writer, public speaker, and disability rights activist. IG: @crutches_and_spice | Twitter: @Imani_Barbarin | TikTok: @crutches_and_spice
Jewish Allies
Katie Halper: US comedian, writer, filmmaker, podcaster, and political commentator. IG and Twitter: @kthalps
Dr. Chanda Prescod-Weinstein: Associate Professor of Physics and Core Faculty Member in Women’s and Gender Studies at the University of New Hampshire. Twitter: @IBJIYONGI | (https://chanda.science/)
Amanda Gelender: Writer. Twitter: @agelender | (https://agelender.medium.com/)
Yoav Litvin: Jerusalem-born Writer and Photographer. IG and Twitter: @nookyelur | (yoavlitvin.com)
Alana Lentin: Professor of Cultural and Social Analysis at Western Sydney University. Twitter: @alanalentin
Gideon Levy: anti-Zionist Israeli journalist and activist. Twitter: @gideonlevy
‼️How You Can Help Palestine‼️
Click for Palestine (Please reblog!!)
Masterlist of donation links by @sulfurcosmos (Please reblog!!)
Water for Gaza: Donate directly to the Gaza Municipality
Operation Olive Branch Linktree for vetted fundraisers, donations and political action resources. TikTok and Instagram: @operationolivebranch | Twitter: @OPOliveBranch
Gazafunds (vetted and spotlighted GFMs)
The Butterfly Effect Project (spreadsheet of vetted GFMs)
Spreadsheet of Gaza fundraisers vetted by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi
If any links are broken let me know. Or pull up the current post to check whether it's fixed.
Political action to pressure the Harris campaign to stop arming Israel (for US citizens): Uncommitted Movement (TikTok: @uncommittedmvmt) (Please reblog!!)
"Knowledge is Israel's worst enemy. Awareness is Israel's most hated and feared foe. That's why Israel bombs a university: it wants to kill openness and determination to refuse living under injustice and racism."
— Dr. Refaat Alareer, (martyred Dec 6, 2023)
From River To The Sea Palestine Will Be Free 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
-----
Edit 1: took the first video down because turns out the animator is a terf and it links to her blog. Really sorry for any distress.
Edit 2: All recommended readings + Haymarket recommendations + essential decolonization texts have been uploaded to my linked gdrive. I will adding more periodically. Please do buy or check them out from the library if possible, but this post was made for and by poor and gatekept Global South bitches like me.
Some have complained about the memes being disrespectful. You're actually legally obligated to make fun of Israeli propaganda and Zionists. I don't make the rules.
Edit 3: "The river to the sea" does not mean the expulsion of Jews from Palestine. Believing that is genocide apologia.
Edit 4: Gazans have specifically asked us to put every effort into pushing for a ceasefire instead of donations. "Raising humanitarian aid" is a grift Western governments are pushing right now to deflect from the fact that they're sending billions to Israel to keep carpet bombing Gazans. As long as the blockades are still in place there will never be enough aid for two million people. (UPDATE: PLEASE DONATE to the Gazan's GoFundMe fundraisers to help them buy food and get out of Rafah into Egypt. E-SIMs, food and medical supplies are also essential. Please donate to the orgs linked in the How You Can Help. Go on the strikes. DO NOT STOP PROTESTING.)
Edit 5: Google drive link for academic books folder has been fixed. Also have added a ton of resources to all the other folders so please check them out.
Edit 6: Added interactive maps, Jadaliya channel, and masterlists of donation links and protest support and of factsheets.
The twitter accounts I reposted as it was given to me and I just now realized it had too many Israeli voices and almost none of the Palestinians I'm following, so it's being edited. (Update: done!) also removed sources like Jewish Voices of Peace and Breaking the Silence that do good work but have come under fair criticism from Palestinians.
Edit 7: Complete reformatting
Edit 8: Complete revamping of the social media section. It now reflects my own following list.
Edit 9: removed some more problematic people from the allies list. Remember that the 2SS is a grift that's used to normalize violence and occupation, kids. Supporting the one-state solution is lowest possible bar for allyship. It's "Free Palestine" not "Free half of Palestine and hope Israel doesn't go right back to killing them".
Edit 10: added The Palestine Directory + Al Jazeera documentary + Addameer. This "100 links per post" thing sucks.
Edit 11: more documentaries and films
Edit 12: reformatted reading list
Edit 13: had to remove @palipunk's masterlist to add another podcast. It's their pinned post and has more resources Palestinian culture and crafts if you want to check it out
Edit 14 6th May '24: I've stopped updating this masterlist so some things, like journalists still left in Gaza and how to support the student protests are missing. I've had to take a step back and am no longer able to track these things down on my own, and I've hit the '100 links per post' limit, but if you can leave suggestions for updates along with links in either the replies or my asks I will try and add them.
Edit 15 10th August: added to Palestinian allies list and reworked the Help for Palestine section. There's been a racist harrassment campaign against the Palestinian Tumblrs that vetted the Gaza fundraisers based off one mistake made by a Gazan who doesn't understand English. If you're an ally, shut that shit down. Even if you donate to a scam GFM, you're only out some coffee money; if everyone stops donating to all the GFMs in fear of scams, those families die.
82K notes · View notes
skitskatdacat63 · 7 months
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I can't stop thinking about Dune....
#dune part 2 my movie of the year already ????#i saw anatomy of a fall this yr as well#and i really really liked it and i feel really emotionally connected#but every year i feel like i have a movie where its like:#i need to watch this again or im going to die#they really stick in my brain and i feel an intense longing for it#ig a factor of it is bcs i didnt get to go to the theater during the pandemic obv#so ever since then i really value it a lot#like yeah i still feel attached to movies that arent currently in theaters#but theres just something about how limited it is yknow? like i can only go out to see this. i have to make that commitment#i dont think theaters were really open until the end of 2021 right???? cant remember well#but id say my movie of every year that i feel really obsessive w would be(so far):#2020: 1917. 2022: the batman. 2023: Oppenheimer. 2024: Dune Part Two.#??????? maybe??????? i dont like to be so hasty bcs its literally only march#but man i feel the longing for it 🥺#I WANNA SEE IT AGAIN 😭😭 SO BADDDDDDD#imax this time pls i beg#lmao my friend got obsessed to the same level as me and is starting to read the books#i might but god my brain is so bad for it#well anyways. i feel obsessive#idk i have like several tiers for movies#theres a difference btwn movie i really loved vs movie that has been injected into my bloodstream#its not even like its bcs i joined the fandom or anything. like i dont think i rly have too much interest in the fandom#i just feel this bone deep passionate and need for it. sorry i literally sound insane rn 😭😭#well anyways. need to watch dune 2 again#trying to convince my dad into it but hes so annoying abt these things#but i started rewatching part 1 with him and aaaaahh so much stuff is so much clearer after watching pt 2#I MISS STILGAR I WANNA SEE HIM AGAIN OKAY#catie.rambling.txt
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niennanir · 1 year
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Listen to your elders
So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.
So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.
But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?
In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.
Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download
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Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 
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No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.
Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife
You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.
Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:
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use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.
Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.
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Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.
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You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.
Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour
In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock
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Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)
Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.
Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine
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Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.
Voila:
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I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.
The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.
If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 
21K notes · View notes
plutotheplum · 2 months
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Resonance
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sylus x fem!reader - read part 2!
summary: with the aether core's auction quickly approaching, you're growing desperate to resonate with sylus. fortunately for you, he has a suggestion... even if it is less conventional.
cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, fingering, teasing, spit kink, light choking, oral sex, praise kink, slightly ooc sylus?, minor canon divergence
wc: 4.5k
a/n: my first time writing a full fic or smut for that matter! given how many times sylus was trying to hold the mc's hand, i just figured he'd be into it. tried to be strong for zayne, but that didn't work out... sorry zayne. hope you guys like it! <3
also posted on ao3!
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You’re starting to regret your plan to sneak into the N109 Zone. From being drugged to nearly being killed, you weren’t exactly faring well in the unfamiliar place. 
A deep sigh escapes you, fingers rubbing at your aching temples. The headache had gotten worse, the band around your head wrapping tighter and tighter. You couldn’t leave though, no matter how desperately you wanted to, not when the Aether Core’s other half was up for auction in a week’s time. Sylus had also been distant. Despite saving you from the night raid, he had hardly come to visit while you were staying at Onychinus’ base. The twins, Luke and Keiran had kept you company though. They weren’t as wicked as you thought them to be, only young men that were intent on working for Onychinus, driven by their own motivations. 
The week was bound to shorten however, and you were growing antsy. Any reservations you had about resonating with Sylus were fading quickly as the auction date grew closer. He was right in a sense, you two needed to resonate, especially after that night raid when the Wanderers had attacked. The auction wouldn’t go smoothly either, you knew that much. Sylus had money, but traitors were lurking everywhere. The shopkeeper’s voice rings in your head, reminding you that Sylus hadn’t been responsible for the explosions. Absolving him of being responsible had been hard enough.  
Plucking at the strap of your nightgown, you’re contemplating whether you should sneak out. Sylus had been accommodating enough so far, and you were tempted to push your boundaries. He had, after all, left a pile of clothes for you. Strangely enough, they were all in the right size, accompanied by Mephisto who had let out a loud caw before flying out, its claws making a playful swipe for your hair. 
A few more anxious plucks at the strap of the nightgown and you’re sneaking out. Feed pad against the floor softly, nightgown swaying as you move through the hallway. You pause when you hear voices, hearing the thud of your own heart as you hold your breath. It’s Sylus and another man. The conversation is too muffled to listen into, incoherent words blending in together.
The door creaks open and you’re tucking yourself behind a pillar, hiding in the dark. The sound of footsteps fades into the distance and the breath you’re holding escapes into a quiet exhale.
“You can come out now,” A voice drawls. Sylus. You hated how he could sense your presence. Stepping out from behind the pillar, your back straightens, walking into his room. It’s dark, just like him. Expensive furniture, books stacked onto a bookshelf and a bed on the other side of the large room. The curtains are open, moonlight flowing in through the windows, mixing with the ambient lighting. He sits behind his desk, eyes trained on you, nursing a cup of wine. “I see you’re wearing my gift,” he says, eyes dragging over the nightgown. You scoff, eyes narrowing at him, “It was hardly a gift, and it’s not like I could sleep in my Hunter uniform.”
He only takes another sip of wine, eyebrows raising. His nonchalance is making you feel irritated. “You’re avoiding me,” you announce, arms crossing over your chest, “is there any reason?”
He laughs, low and deep, “I thought you’d be grateful for the reprieve, or maybe you don’t hate me as much as you think you do.” That has you scowling. You want to wipe his stupid smug smile right off his face. “Relax,” he says, his fingers tapping against his desk as he leans back in his chair “I had more important things to attend to.” That catches your attention. More important things? Perhaps he’d have answers, and you needed answers, about the N109 Zone, about Onychinus, about anything . 
“Private matters,” he murmurs, red eyes keeping you in place “nothing for you to get involved with.”
Your scowl only grows deeper, almost forgetting what you came in here for. Your feet move across the carpet, hands landing on the edge of his desk in an attempt to look intimidating.
“I want to try resonating with you,” you say, deciding to change tactics.
He hums, red eyes boring into yours. “We already tried that, and unfortunately, you seem content on disliking me,” he replies.
A frustrated noise escapes you, “It’s your fault!” you accuse, glaring at him. 
He only stares back at you blankly. You feel like a child throwing a tantrum under his gaze. “Just- please? ” you ask, voice softening slightly. He’s letting out an inconvenienced sigh and your body is moving, red tendrils swooping around your body as he draws you closer to him. “Hand,” he demands. You reach forward, and his hand clasps yours, fingers lacing together. A deep breath gets sucked in through your mouth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to channel your energy and resonate with him. You think about his stupidly handsome face, his low voice and the times he had saved you. Both of your knuckles are white with how tightly you’re squeezing his hand. There’s nothing though, absolutely nothing. No sparks, no glowing light, no Evol resonance. Letting out a defeated sigh, you let go of his hand. He stares back at you, eyes searching. “There is something wrong with you,” he says, drawing his hand back to take another sip of wine.
“Maybe if you tried being more likeable, this would be easier,” you retort, sending him another glare.
Sylus only laughs, his head tilting, “You weren’t so intent on resonating with me earlier. So much so that you shot me.”
“You shot yourself,” you correct, voice sharp, “and the change in mind is because of the auction.”
He peers over at you, eyes calculating. You can’t tell what’s going through his head, you can never tell. It puts you on edge. Sylus is a dangerous man and you aren’t able to predict a single one of his moves.
“You’re afraid of Wanderers,” he surmises, hands clasping in his lap. 
His chair rolls out a bit from his desk and your eyes are dipping to see his legs spread as he gets comfortable. There’s a stretch in the black trousers as his thighs strain against the material and you’re swallowing harshly, eyes snapping back up to meet his gaze. If he noticed your wandering eyes, he doesn’t say anything.
“I’m not scared!” you protest, feeling exasperated “I’m simply worried that something might happen. We both know that the Aether core might become unstable with energy fluctuations, and who knows what sort of Wanderers that flux might attract?”
“I am more than capable of handling any danger,” Sylus says, his tone dark, “or do you need a refresher of what happened after I saved you during the night raid?”
You wince at the memory. It appears he doesn’t like being underestimated. It’s even worse that you remember. There had been blood and screams when his Evol had eviscerated the men that had been there.
“No refreshers needed,” you reply quickly.
Your plan of resonating with him is ill-thought, you realise. You can’t get your mind to change, no matter how hard you try. Head hanging low, you decide to back off. Sylus is right at least. He would be capable enough of defeating any danger there, but his assurance isn’t enough to quell your doubts. Silence passes over you both, only interrupted by your feet shifting on the spot. 
“There is another way,” Sylus says slowly, a wicked grin spreading across his face, “it is less conventional of course, hardly attempted at.”
Hardly attempted at? Was he planning to put your life on the line? Maybe that would work out for him, weaken you enough to get you to resonate with him and then steal the Aether core lodged in your heart.
“And this way is…?” you prompt, raising your brows. 
His grin only grows wider. Sylus stands up, long legs stalking towards you until he’s standing in front of you, his red eyes staring down at you. His cold hand reaches out, fingers grabbing at your chin to tilt your head as his own head dips towards your ear. You shiver, feeling his warmth breath against your skin. “Sex,” he whispers.
Well, you certainly weren’t expecting that. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, gaze averted to the side.
He clicks his tongue, “Why so embarrassed? I thought you wanted to resonate, sweetie .” 
“You’re more insane than I thought,” you hiss, shoving at his chest. 
He lets out a throaty laugh, a smirk spreading across his lips as he stumbles back a bit at the force of your push. 
“You seemed desperate,” Sylus says when he stops laughing, “I was only letting you know of all the options.”
“That shouldn’t even be an option!” you snap, growing flustered by the second. Sex with Sylus ? He was a murderer and completely and utterly unhinged, not to mention the leader of an illegally run gang. You were not having sex with him. Your irritation festers, head falling into your hands as you stand there. He doesn’t say anything, only reaching for his wine and finishing off his cup. 
“Fuck me,” you sigh tiredly, rubbing at your aching temples again.
“Don’t tempt me,” he replies. Your head snaps upwards at that, glaring at him. Irritation has only led to you making a poor choice of words. 
“I’m leaving,” you say forcefully, holding your head high.
You should be leaving by now, storming off back to your room lying a few doors away. You should be, except your poor feet aren’t working.
He stares at you expectantly, a hint of smile on his face as his brows raise.
“I am leaving,” you repeat, voice hardening.
He only nods his head towards the door. Part of you wants to stay, to find out what he means, but the implications are clear and you won’t do that with him. Especially not him.
You don’t get very far though, the door lock fastening in place with a resounding click . His Evol curls around your body, the inky red and black lines tugging you back towards him. Sylus is reaching for you, his hand cupping your cheek. You have half the mind to lean into his touch. “I think we’ll both have more fun if you stay,” he whispers against your ear, arms drifting across your nightgown to wrap around your waist and tug you closer.
He peers down at you, and your breath catches in your throat. Without thinking, you’re leaning into him, body pressing against him.
“I think you want to stay,” he continues, hands sliding up to pet at your hips.
“You- you don’t know what I want,” you manage out, voice airy, “and I want to leave.”
He hums, hand finding your cheek again. His thumb rubs across your skin, and it sets you alight.
“Did you forget?” he murmurs, head dipping to meet your height, “I can see what people desire the most, and it appears you, my dear Hunter, desire me.”
You’re letting out a soft curse. You had forgotten about that stupid detail, about his ability to see what people desired. Squirming in his grasp, you try to get away, but he holds you still, letting out a disappointed sigh.
“Will you not indulge yourself?” he whispers, voice lilting. You think he could be a siren in disguise.
There’s a shuddering breath escaping you. You don’t get a chance to answer, not when he’s smiling against your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to it. Your hands find his shirt, forming fists to prevent your knees from buckling.
“We are the same,” he reminds you, lips brushing across your skin as he backs you up against the wall.
You manage a scoff, “We are not the same. You’ve done terrible things and killed people. You do whatever you want, sacrificing whoever you want if it betters your cause.” 
“Such insolent words,” he purrs, his hand curling around your neck “I have treated you with far more kindness than others that have crossed my path.”
A squeak leaves when he squeezes around your neck, your fingers trying to pry his ones away from your neck. He only tightens his grip, landing another kiss to your cheek and there’s heat between your thighs, a whine escaping you before you can swallow it down.
Sylus laughs, his hand falling away from your neck to grab at your hips instead.
“Caught you,” he coos, and with that his head is dipping, lips pressing against yours.
You whine again, arms wrapping around his neck. You’re too far gone to care, feeling the plushness of his lips against yours. It feels as though he’s trying to devour you, trying to swallow you whole.
The kisses are rough and harsh and his hands are slipping under your nightgown, sliding up the backs of your thighs to grasp at your ass. You gasp into his mouth, scrabbling at his shoulders. He grunts against your mouth, guiding your leg to hook over his hip.
“You are far more eager than you said you would be,” he murmurs, finally pulling away to let you breathe. 
Soft pants escape you, chest heaving as your hands drop from his shoulders, landing against his chest instead. He stares down at you, crimson eyes bright with arousal as they flit about your body.
“You’ve done something to me,” you mutter lamely, a weak excuse for responding so eagerly.
He raises his brows, his thumb brushing across your lips. He repeats the motion, over and over again until you're tempted to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb. You don’t get a chance, not when his thumb is pushing past your lips and meeting the resistance of your teeth. Blinking up at him, you tilt your head.
“You know I haven’t done anything to you,” he replies, “that would be too far, even for me. Now be good and open .”
He has to have done something to you. What other explanation is there for the way your mouth opens, sucking his thumb inside eagerly? Your head tips back as you suck on his thumb, tongue swirling around the digit. He groans, deep and unabashed and it has your hips bucking. “Patience,” he whispers, pushing his thumb further into your mouth. You gag slightly, sending him watery glare. 
Sylus only smiles back, keeping you in place as you suck on his thumb. The ache between your thighs is too hard to ignore, and your hand is sneaking down in an attempt to relieve the ache.
You’re horribly wet between your thighs, feeling your thighs practically slip against each other as you squirm. Your fingers only manage two full circles against your clit before Sylus is letting out a growl, tugging your hand free from where it had snuck into your panties. 
“I- I need-“ you whine, trying to sneak your hand between your thighs again.
“You need me ,” he hisses, eyes hard as he grabs at your wandering hand, gaze locking onto your slick fingers. There’s a sharp gasp that leaves you when his own mouth is enveloping around your fingers, his eyes on yours as he sucks them clean. You feel weak at the sight, a dreamy sigh escaping you. He smirks, forgetting your fingers to kiss you again. You taste yourself on his tongue, feeling the way he licks into your mouth, his hands squeezing at your hips.
He’s picking you up before too long, dumping you on his bed. You hide shyly when he rips your nightgown from your body, his eyes staring down at your bra and panties greedily. The bra goes next and he’s lowering his head, sucking your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking against the pebbled bud. You don’t know what to do, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him there, trying desperately to seek relief. “So impatient,” Sylus mutters against your spit-slick skin, opting to suck on your other breast as his hand delves between your thighs. “Don’t stop,” you whimper, eyes slipping shut “please, don’t stop.”
He lets out a low laugh, fingers rubbing at you through your panties. “How obedient you’ve become. Squirming under my fingers like a little slut. Didn’t you say you hated me before?” he whispers. 
“I- I do hate you!” you grit out, but your hand is finding his wrist, keeping his hand there as you grind your clothed pussy against his fingers.
He scoffs disappointedly, body slinking down the bed until his nose is pressing against your panties and he’s breathing in. You feel as though you might faint at the depraved sight. His tongue laves across the fabric of your panties and you moan his name, fingers finding their home in his hair.
Sylus sucks at your clit through your panties, licking at the slick that seeps through the dampened fabric. 
“An intoxicating taste,” he comments, pressing a kiss to your thigh “I could do this for days.”
That little comment has you letting out a shuddering breath and words you might regret if your mind wasn’t so stupidly hazy. “I would let you,” you mumble, tugging his face closer to where you want him, feeling the press of his nose against your clit. He grins, red eyes staring up at you, “that can be arranged.” Sylus’s long fingers are pulling down your panties and he’s staring at your cunt, a deep groan escaping him. “Such a pretty pussy,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. 
A strangled noise leaves you and his mouth is latching onto your pussy, sucking and licking like a man starved. Whines and whimpers escape you as you grind your hips against his tongue. He moans back into your cunt, the sound shooting up through your body, thighs twitching. Sylus keeps you pinned down, tongue laving against your wetness, drinking up your slick as it leaks. It’s almost too much, which is why your hand reaches for his. Sylus gives his own hand, fingers lacing with yours. You’re so lost in the haze of his tongue against you that you can barely hear his voice.
“Resonate,” he speaks into your pussy, his hand gripping yours tight. “What?” Your dazed eyes find his, bewildered. “I said, resonate ,” he repeats, sucking your clit into his mouth harshly. 
His teeth graze against the sensitive bud and your back is arching, hand squeezing his one back. Your Evol comes much easier this time, light emanating from both your hands as you resonate. The linkage takes place, and it has you reeling, body twitching as you come on his tongue. The light soon fades, his own Evol dimming down. He presses another soft kiss to your sensitive clit. “Some incentive and your body is reacting remarkably well,” he smiles down at you. You could hardly care about resonance at this point, pushing at his shoulders and crawling up onto his lap, lips pressing against his. He grunts at the sudden change in position, but kisses you back, his hands groping at your ass appreciatively. A whine gets swallowed up by his mouth, your hips rocking against his hardness wantonly. Your fingers pull at his shirt and he’s staring at you with spit-slick lips. He tugs his shirt free and you suck in a sharp breath, taking him in. While you do this, your hips pause in their movements and he’s letting out a click of his tongue, using his hands to guide you start moving again. “You resonated with me,” he whispers against your lips. “Hardly,” you murmur back, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t be like that,” he chastises, “I made you come on my tongue and this is how you treat me?” he pouts mockingly.
“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He coos, guiding your hips to move in the way he wants to, “moaning and whimpering for me. Perhaps I should’ve suggested this path from the start.” You try to glare at him, but he’s only gripping your cheeks, prying your mouth open before his tongue is lolling out, dropping a glob of spit into your mouth. “Swallow, baby.” You do so almost immediately, mouth opening eagerly for more. He laughs, almost in disbelief, kissing you messily this time, letting you suck on his tongue. “I need you,” you whisper, pressing his hand against your tummy “need you in me, Sylus.”
His eyes flash and he’s kissing you harder, clothed bulge grinding up into your bare pussy. The drag of his trousers is stimulating, catching on your clit in a way that has you shaking on his lap. “You’re filthy,” he hisses, sucking harsh kisses against your neck “such a filthy slut, begging for my cock.” You whine in agreement, nodding mindlessly. The world is moving then, your eyes finding the roof as he settles between your thighs. He kisses you over and over again, before he’s drawing back, slipping off the bed to pull his trousers down. A loud moan escapes you at the sight, his fat cock bobbing between his thighs. The tip is dark with arousal, veins prominent against the skin. Part of you wants it in your mouth, to swallow his cum and feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, and the other part wants it inside of you, filling you up. Embarrassment forgotten, you’re spreading your thighs in what you hope is an enticing manner, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes over at him. He glances down at your glistening pussy, licking his lips. “In me, please” you sweetly request. He hums, crawling over you. He grasps his cock, tapping the tip of it against your clit a few times. Pre-cum beads at the tip, a fat glob dripping down. Your hand shoots out before it’s wasted, fingers catching the glob. Smiling up at him, you suck your fingers into your mouth, letting out an appreciative moan at the taste. His eyes darken at the sight, fingers dimpling the flesh of your thigh as he squeezes.
“You’ll regret this when you have to leave me,” he warns, “I won’t be there to stuff your pussy full or lick that pretty cunt when you’re feeling needy.” “Then make it count,” you retort, legs wrapping around his hips. He lets out a short laugh, kissing you again. Soft whines leave you when he pushes in, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You think you might be able to feel him in your throat, his cock stretching you out so deliciously that it has you writhing. 
“So fucking tight,” he breathes out, kissing along your jaw “so warm. I can feel you clenching around me, baby.” 
“Fuck,” you mewl, nails scratching down his back as he thrusts into you. In any other situation, you might be mortified at the sounds.
The squelch of your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he fucks you. It seems like his favourite thing to do is to hold your hands, though.
“So pretty for me,” he sighs, hips grinding deeper into your wet heat “such a good girl, hm? My good girl.”
The praise has your heart fluttering wildly, cheeks flushing.
“Oh, you like that,” he murmurs, his lips latching onto your tits again, “my pretty, little slut, all laid out for me. You could’ve had this cock earlier, I would’ve given it to you. I could’ve stuffed you full, or bent you over my bike and pounded this tight little cunt until you were screaming.” 
A hoarse moan leaves you. Your hands are squeezing his, legs tightening around him.
“That’s it,” he whispers encouragingly, “take my cock baby, it’s all yours.”
“Stop- stop talking like that,” you whine, writhing under his body.
“Why?” he responds, “does it feel better than you had imagined?”
“I wasn’t imagining-“
“Hush now,” he whispers, kissing you over and over again. You’re not sure how much more of this you could take.
His cock is pounding into you, punching out the air in your lungs. It feels too good, the throb of his cock and his whispered words against your ear. You hiccup, peering up into his crimson eyes. He stares right back at you, the look behind his eyes startlingly soft.
You shy away, head turning to the side, cheek squishing against the pillow. His hand turns your face back to him, nose nudging against yours gently. He kisses you softer this time, the sound of your kisses drowned out by the drag of his cock in your cunt.
“Come for me, baby” Sylus whispers, squeezing your hand “cream my cock.” 
It’s enough to have you shuddering around him, a whine of his name leaving your mouth as you cream on his cock, just like had told you to. He drinks up every noise, lips working against yours as he fucks into until he’s burying his cock deep inside, letting out a low growl against your ear as hot cum spurts from his tip, filling you up. 
You sigh at the feeling, body feeling limp. Sylus is slumped on top of you, his weight oddly comforting against yours. A kiss is pressed against his cheek and you can feel his smile from where he’s tucked his head into the crook of your neck.
It’s a little uncomfortable though, so you’re pushing at his chest to get him to roll off of you. Sylus does so with little noise and you’re curling up against his side, already missing the stretch of his cock.
“You were being nice,” you say softly, breaking the silence.
“Would you prefer it if I were rougher?” he asks in return, rubbing his hand against the curve of your hip soothingly.
You roll your eyes, pinching his bicep. 
“The auction will go smoothly,” he announces, his hand drifting to squeeze your ass, “we did resonate, after all.”
You had almost forgotten about that. A nod is your response and he’s dragging you closer to give you another kiss.
“Training begins tomorrow morning,” Sylus continues, “I need to see how strong we can be together.”
You’re letting out a groan, swatting his chest and shoving him away. 
“Leave me alone,” you mumble, burying your face into the pillows.
He smiles, arms curling around your waist to tug you back into his warm chest.
“Now, now. You were being so good earlier,” he whispers “I’d be happy to reward you, if you perform well tomorrow.”
His hand smooths across your stomach, hand drifting lower to delve between your thighs. You muffle the noise that threatens to spill out.
“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, eyes slipping shut.
“I think you like that about me,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers curling up inside of you, beginning to move at a leisurely pace. 
“You’re the worst, Sylus” you whisper, hips rocking as you try to get his fingers to sink deeper.
“Yet here you are, trying to fuck yourself on my fingers,” he purrs, his arm winding around your neck. You feel him squeeze and you’re whimpering, sinking your teeth into his bicep as he holds you in place, letting his fingers fuck in and out of you.
It’s going to be a long night.
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bioethicists · 1 year
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i genuinely have no animosity towards ppl who get upset abt not being able to read academic texts + i do think we need to expand the pathways/methods of being exposed to critical concepts so that "sit + read for 2 hours" is not the only option.
however, as someone dx with adhd + incapable of sitting still for even a minute (actually right at this moment i am writing this instead of reading the book sitting open in front of me), i do feel like a lot of ppl do not realize that not all readings are designed to be read like a novel.
as in, it's ok + normal + good to need to reread a paragraph several times, to only read part of a book, to have to research or reference words or concepts in order to grasp the reading, to skip over large chunks of text which are not relevant to your expertise, to continue reading despite not understanding a concept. this is something 'neurotypical' academics do frequently + many of these texts, especially contemporary ones, were designed with this in mind.
there are many ppl with accessibility needs that are not being met by academic texts at this time! many texts (in my humble opinion) are unnecessarily complex in order to show off or hide the fact that they have no idea what they're talking about.
i still feel like many of the kneejerk reactions on this site are based on the assumption that their experience reading academic texts should be similar to their experiences reading a nyt bestseller, rather than a process of thinking, analyzing, researching, processing, returning. some of u are telling yourself that any challenges u face while reading are a result of some internal fault u have + not an expected + precious part of the experience.
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irisinluv · 23 days
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Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? Pt 2
Part one
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It was almost 2 minutes before I realized I was still dragging the crown prince behind me. I quickly dropped his hand and looked at him, not able to hide the embarrassment on my face. Listen- I’m committed to the bit. I WILL be the crazy jealous fiancé. But… I’m still human ok. I just dragged a full grown man down several halls and a flight of stairs while I spaced out thinking about how I’m gonna buy my cat premium wet food once I get back home to her.
It’s fine, I’m not flustered at spacing out about my cat, my characters just flustered because she’s been holding the hand of the man she’s obsessed with, that’s all!
“Well…. Did you still want to dine and take that walk?”
I expected him to scold me for my mistreatment of Cressida, grow irritated from me dragging him along like this. Instead, he chuckles and threads his arm in mine, and begins escorting me down the hall.
“Absolutely, have you dined outside by the roses yet? There’s this lovely pavilion that I am eager to hear your thoughts on.”
And that’s how I found myself under an impressive array of roses, all trained up and around a cozy dining area, creating a canopy of green and pink over an intimate tea table. The food was equally impressive, I had to keep reminding myself that the other me is used to this lavish lifestyle, to not gawk at the fancy tiny sandwiches and deserts.
“Well? Is everything to your liking? ”
I’m going off script here, how am I supposed to know how the villainess would react to a romantic scene like this?? If my “evil crazy” side isn’t supposed to be directed at him, and she’s usually kinda distant and unsure around him…. That means I should probably respond pretty curtly, polite, yet not really engaging. But…. I’ve already messed that up…. I guess I can be more genuine when it’s the two of us like this. He can think that this version of me is the facade, that I’m pretending to be pleasant, and then will start to see what a jerk “I” truly am when Cressida’s around. Besides…. I almost feel bad for the villainess. She really just seems like she was shy. Who knows- maybe, if given the opportunity, she really would have opened up more. It’s clear she loved the prince, and just didn’t know how to show it. So, with that thought, I made up my mind.
“It’s breathtaking! Roses are my favorite flower, and I’ve never seen so many kinds in bloom at once…. Plus the food and company leave little to be desired.”
There you go- slip in some subtle flirting! I’m not quite sure what time period this is supposed to be, but I get the impression flirting as bit more high class here, and I think I can have some fun with that.
“I’m glad, to be honest I was a bit flustered asking you to dine with me… you caught me quite off guard today, but in a good way.” He reaches his hand across the table and places it on my own, “I’d like to do this more often, you and I. I feel like the confines of our current arrangement have left us practically strangers, despite being engaged for several months already. I’m enjoying just being companionable with you, even if it’s just existing comfortably in the same room.”
Ohhhh, I know I’m the villain in this story but I can’t help but root for him- what a sweetheart! It’s so obvious he’s been lonely, I can’t wait for him and Cressida to fall in love and have a couple of kids that they’ll spoil rotten. And in the meantime…. Maybe I do have a bit of evil in me, because I’m going to selfishly enjoy this handsome man treating me to lunches under roses and reading in cozy libraries while I can.
“I know exactly how you feel your highness. Now, you mentioned a walk?”
We spent the afternoon laughing and chatting, and it felt nice to chat without worrying too much about my role. He asked me about that book I picked out earlier, and listened attentively as I caught him up with where I’m at in the plot. In turn, I asked about what papers he’s been signing, documents he’s been drafting, etc.
The only thing I had to do was send glares to any young ladies we passed, settling my hand on his arm possessively, and I saw their eyes widen and faces disappear behind fans as they whisper to one another. I can picture this illustrated in a manhwa- the nasty princess sinking her claws into the gullible prince… hopefully all these ladies will start gossiping and we can really cement this evil persona of mine now that Cressida’s here.
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When we returned to our separate apartments, I explored my rooms a bit until servants came to get me ready for dinner, and I slipped back into the frigid bitch persona. The servant girls dressed me in a slightly stuffy gown, but I had to admit, I looked gorgeous. I sat stiff and straight as they did my hair, forcing myself to be the very picture of cold indifference. I then dismissively thanked them for their help, then sat there awkwardly as they stared at me like I was crazy.
Ohhhh shit…. The original story hadn’t prepared me for this. My character was a villain, yes, but a side character for the most part! How was she supposed to act towards her servants? I went over what I knew- the novel showed the villainess alone quite often, usually obsessing over Eric and plotting/stalking. It showed her with Eric, and how distant and awkward their relationship was when together. And then of course the numerous scenes with Cressida where the Villainess did all sorts of heinous things to the sweet girl. But… it never depicted her with servants, or even any friends or other nobles. Just… Eric and Cressida. Was other me not actually a bitch all the time? Am I being unnecessarily rude right now? Oh god I’m such an idiot.
The story is told through Cressida’s point of view- of course there’s more depth to my own character than I initially thought! The Villianess must be a misunderstood introvert! Unsure of how to act around her crush, she’s fiercely insecure and jealous of this new girl who doesn’t struggle the same way she does. When she notices the prince slipping from her grasp, she acts out against Cressida because she can’t bear to lose Eric!
As someone’s who’s worked minimum wage jobs and struggled with social anxiety most of my life, I try to be nice to the people just working to survive, but here I am acting like these poor women are the dirt beneath my shoe…. Ok. Um. Well they’re still standing there in shock, I can fix this….
“You really did a lovely job… my hair has never looked so gorgeous, you’re truly talented! And I think the prince will be very pleased with this choice of ribbon!”
There- I was nicer, and I brought it back to Eric, so I’m still the lovesick fiancé whose entire world is waiting for her in the dining room. I frowned as the servants scuttled out of the room with hurried excuses, all of them looking like they were about to faint. Damn it… I can’t believe I misread the relationship between us. I probably just ruined their night by being uncharacteristically rude. I’ve gotta learn their names next time…. Maybe ask them to help me eat some fancy pastries as an apology…?
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I didn’t know it, but while I was lamenting how wrong I was about the Villainess’ character, the servants were all gossiping to the others about what had just transpired.
“You’re telling me she said THANK YOU!?”
“Yes!!! And then you should have seen how nervous she got! She just rambled, blurting out such a sweet compliment, and she even tied it back to the prince!”
“I had no idea how precious she was… I can’t believe I never realized she’s just shy! In a new place, all alone aside from her new fiancé…. Who I gather she’s got a bit of a crush on! Poor dear.”
“Ohh our sweet girl, I’m sure it must be hard bonding with the prince, when all you do is sit yards apart and hardly speak …”
“Well I may have some news about that… and it’s no wonder she was a bit flustered today, because I saw the two of them in the gardens today! They were both nothing but smiles- absolutely smitten with one another!”
“Such a lovely girl, and we never knew it all this time!”
Apparently, I had it backwards. The real villainess truly was a 2D, basic character. She was insecure and possessive over the prince, bullying Cressida half to remind her who Eric belonged to, half for the fun of it. But she didn’t let on to anyone about the true depth of her love for him. She didn’t gossip to her handmaid, didn’t ask the servants which dress he would like better. Simply acted as if they did not exist, hardly saying a word to them.
While I thought my blunt “thank you” was colder than they were used to, and then tried to smooth things over…. It was more words than they’d heard from me in the whole time I’d lived in the palace. They lapped it up and declared me their own shy little dove after that.
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When I arrived to dinner, I realized why daily dinners weren’t exactly a bonding activity for the villainess and Eric. The table was massive, and only held two chairs, one at either end. It felt so…. Cold?
Eric had beat me there, and quickly stood up from his seat, waiting until I sat and a servant pushed in my chair to retake his own seat. He smiled at me and said,
“Good evening, princess.”
He had to project his voice slightly. It wasn’t like he was shouting or being loud, it was just the manner of speaking you use when talking to an elderly relative, clearer, and enunciating better so they could hear you.
I replied back, projecting my voice similarly, and found the conversation was, in fact, more awkward than it had been earlier. We ate our food mostly in silence, occasionally one of us would say something and the other would stop moving their utensils on their plate, listening closer as they ask,
“What’s that?”
By the time dinner was over and we each went to bed, I felt drained. I could have just been louder I suppose- but it’s so hard to keep up a conversation like that. I know we get along- we had chatted all afternoon after all. But some part of me realized it’s probably good to keep a bit of distance between us, even if I’ve rewritten things to be a bit chummier between the two of us. Cressida needs to swoop in and steal him from me… and my job is still to leave that room for her to do so.
It’s hard trying to be someone else, yet also making sure you lead the plot in the right direction- it’s exhausting! I feel like both director and actress!
It’s with this in mind that I launch myself into the softest bed I’d ever felt, and passed out. My first day as princess consort, the Yandere fiancé, complete.
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While I was getting acquainted with my feather bed, Eric was speaking with the head waitstaff.
“Yes, tomorrow, would you mind adjusting the seating situation? I’d like for the princess consort and I to be closer together from now on. Yes, and ask my assistant to arrange my schedules like so, I’ve detailed it here. Thank you.”
At the same time, Cressida was recounting her run in with the prince and I to her handmaiden as she finishing unpacking and settling into her family’s guest apartments. Which, unbeknownst to me… was right across the hall.
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Aaaa! You survived your first day! And look at you- doing suuuuch a good job staying true to character. Nothing could go wrong… right?
Tag list for the series;
@bitternsweet @tonightwrites @confused-they @lanxianschoenheit @poptrim @siriuslyobsessedwithfiction @one-really-annoying-tree-rat @anonymousdisco @forbidden-sunlight
Tag list closed! Stay tuned for part 3!
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hurtspideyparker · 1 month
Text
If Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together Part 2
Read Part 1 here
Tony: Why is Underoos mopping the ceiling?
Sam: Told him since he's sticky that's his chore
Bucky: It's only fair he helps out around the house
Tony: Hm. Makes sense
-
Vision cooked dinner:
Peter: *pushing around food to make it look eaten*
Natasha: *surreptitiously spitting into napkin*
Steve: *taking small bites with tons of water*
Bucky: *just stares at full plate*
Tony: Well this is disgusting, I'm ordering pizza
-
Sam: C'mon man stop moping around, you gotta get yourself a girl
Bucky: Ok.
Sam: Ok? Okayyyyy! I know-
Bucky: Give me your phone
Sam: Oh you got a number in mind already hotshot? *hands phone over*
Bucky: *ring* Hi Sarah ;)
Sam: BOY-
-
Peter: Ned thought you would seperate your colours from your lights but he also thought you'd be homophobic so I don't pay him much mind cuz clearly I'm more of a superhero expert than him but he does have a 2% better average than me in history so like maybe you do hand wash your clothes and that's why I asked what underwear you wear because-
Steve: *listening intently with apprehension and alarm*
Natasha: I can't believe you found the one person on Earth who talks more nonsense than you
Tony: I know right, it's incredibly unnerving. I'm planning on adopting him
-
Peter: Mr. Stark I have to tell you something. I think Vision is a... *whispers* pervert
Tony: Um, why?
Peter: He keeps floating through my room without knocking! He saw me changing, he saw my nipples !
Tony: Well if anyone's a predator here it would be you. I mean showing your nipples to a 2 year old? Deplorable.
Peter:
Peter: Oh god, I'm the pervert...
-
Bucky: Y'know animosity isn't good between teammates. I think we should spend more time together
Sam: Am I being punked right now? Where's the camera
Bucky: I'm serious. I think it would be healthy for us to bond
Sam: Okay fine I'll bite... what did you have in mind
Bucky: Wanna go for a run?
Sam: *slams door in Bucky's face*
-
*staring at Bucky's sparkly clean metal arm*
Bucky: Dishwasher?
Peter: Dishwasher :)
(later that day)
Bucky: I've decided to let the child live
Peter: YoU wHaT?!
-
Thwip
Tony: Who took my coffee cup, It was right here
Thwip
Bruce: Um, has someone seen my book? I just had it
Thwip
Steve: I could've sworn I was holding a pen a moment ago
*giggling from the ceiling*
Tony: Young man I will take those webshooters away if you use them for shenanigans and rascality
Peter, muffled: Mr. Hawkeye told me to!
Clint: Oh so you're just gonna rat me out like that?
Peter: Sor- OOF
*falls out of ceiling vent*
-
Sam: You're in my spot
Bucky: There are no spots, it's a common area
Sam: Well that's my spot
Bucky: Did you buy the chair??
Sam: No, but everyone knows that's where I sit. Right Steve?
Steve: Oops I forgot something in my car, be right back *leaves*
Sam: Still my spot
Bucky: Still not
Sam: *sits on him*
Bucky: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL THE COUCHES ARE FREE-
Sam: IT'S MY SPOT YOU CAN'T TAKE A MAN'S FAVOURITE CHAIR-
BUCKY: YOU HAVE ISSUES GET OFF ME-
(one hour later)
Steve: Hey so turns out I don't have a car! Isn't that funn...
Sam & Bucky: *Squeezed awkwardly on the chair together*
Steve: I think I left something in my car
-
Steve: Leave the bedroom door open when you have Vision in there
Wanda: UGH you're so protective
Tony: Teenagers, am I right? Caught Pete reassembling my particle accelerator at midnight because he needed to neutralize a miniature nuclear bomb he nabbed off some guy he neglected to tell me was trying to kill him
Steve:
Steve: Wanda y'know what do whatever you want
Wanda: Really?
Steve: Yes just keep being normal. At least I can read about our issues in a parenting book
-
Thor: Ah, new warriors I see! Good to make all your acquaintance. But why are you so grumpy my friend?
Bucky: *glaring*
Peter: He's always like that. It's um, P- P- PMS? Wait -
Natasha: Yes it's PMS
Wanda: He's got it bad
Steve: *genuinely concerned* Bucky you didn't tell me something was wrong. What can I do to help?
Bucky:
Bucky: I like chocolate
-
Wanda: Welcome to the first annual girls night! This place reeks of men, so I thought we needed some women time
Pepper: Why is Vision here?
Wanda: I get sad when he's gone
Natasha: Why is Pietro here?
Pietro: Slay queens
Wanda: Moral support I think
Maria: Why is Peter here?
Wanda: He looked really upset when I said he wasn't included and I felt bad
Wanda: Anyways... yay girls! Who wants me to paint their nails?
Peter: ME ME ME
-
Steve: Pancakes or waffles?
Natasha: Pancakes
Steve: Good because I don't have a waffle maker
Natasha: Then why would you ask-
Steve: It's important for your voice to be heard, as team leader I value your opinion
*2 minutes later*
Steve: Good morning Clint, pancakes or waffles?
Clint: Waffles
Steve: Oh no.
-
Some of these were based on requests (ex. more Sam & Bucky, dad Steve w/ Wanda) so if you have certain dynamics you enjoy let me know !
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swordsandholly · 3 months
Text
Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor au anthology
MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist
Part 2: Piercings and Puns
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“Pleeaaasse?” Johnny whines, pressing his hands together and giving you the biggest, sparkliest puppy dog look you could imagine.
You roll your eyes. “No.”
“Please! My two o’clock cancelled an’ I’m so bored!” He flops over the counter, arms dangling right above the appointment books. You pointedly ignore the size of his biceps.
“I’m not letting you pierce me just because you’re bored.” You scoff. “Now shoo, Simon’s got an appointment coming in soon.”
“But ye barely have any!” He argues. “All I’m askin’ fer is a wee ear. No’ even a nipple!”
A shocked amalgamation of a bark, laugh, and scoff forces it’s way out of you at that. “It’s still a no!”
Johnny groans, but at least moves away from the counter. Unfortunately, he takes the opportunity to circle around behind you, pinching the cartilage of your ear. “C’mon, ol’ righty’s beggin’ fer a conch.”
The intercom buzzes before you can respond. You swat Johnny away with one hand while pressing the speaker button with the other. “Hello?”
“I’ve go’ an appointment with Ghost.” A man’s voice drifts through. You blink dumbly for half a moment. You still haven’t gotten used to Simon’s social media and booking moniker - he doesn’t like giving his real name out much, apparently.
You buzz him in. Johnny is still hanging around the desk even when you leave to get Simon - making your way down the shirt hall to his studio. The large man stands in front of his stencil maker, back turned to you.
You knock on his door frame quietly. “Your guy’s here.”
“Be out in a moment.” He mumbles, focused on whatever he’s doing. You don’t really know the steps by heart, but you do know that there’s something so special about watching artists perform this repetitive song and dance. This rhythm they know by heart. Skilled hands enacting each step with careful precision.
He’s so hard to read. Big and bulky but calm as the night sea. You want him to like you, but you know badgering him certainly won’t get you there. So, you turn on your heal and head back out. When you return to the front, Johnny’s disappeared back into his room.
You suck your teeth and lean back in the desk chair, rolling your earlobe between your thumb and index finger. It’s not a bad offer, really. You only have two earlobe piercings on each side. Wouldn’t hurt to add a helix… you’ve also wanted to get your thirds done for a while. Work your way up. You glance at the clock. Simon won’t be done with his client for at least an hour or so, and you’ve balanced the registers for the moment. Both Kyle and John are out today, so they won’t need anything.
It wouldn’t hurt… well, not metaphorically.
With a sigh you stand, wandering your way to Johnny’s space. The door’s wide open, and his head snaps up the moment you step close like a sixth sense. “Takin’ me up on my offer, bonnie?”
You roll your eyes. “Guess I am.”
“Whit d’ye want?” Johnny practically skips around his station, pulling out wrapped, sanitized tools and placing them on a rolling tray. He pats the center of the padded table in the middle of the room.
“Uh, been wanting to do my thirds for a while.” You shrug. “If you have time for two.”
“Och, I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye, hen.” Johnny grins, pulling up in front of you and grabbing a marker.
He’s so close as he places the marks on your ears, warm fingers feeling for the best spots. A thumb traces the back of your left ear down just to the beginning of your jaw briefly. Fuck, he smells good. Warm musk with hints of citrus around the edges. The way he tucks your hair back, hands framing your face as he lines up the dots, is so oddly intimate compared to the other times you’ve gotten pierced. He chews at his lip in concentration, pulling at the scar on his chin while turning your head back forth a couple times.
“Think I’ve got it.” He grins and steps back. “Have a look.”
You take the mirror, casually checking but not paying too much attention. You trust him to do right by you. “Looks good.”
“A’right. Now the fun part.” He grins, tearing open the pack of tools and a two new needles.
“Is this fun?” You frown, squirming a little at the size of the needle.
“It’s always fun t’poke a pretty girl.”
You roll your eyes, a growing theme between you two it seems. “Oh, you thought that was real clever, didn’t you? Had that in your pocket a while?”
“Why donnae ye reach in an‘ check?” He murmurs, leaning close to clamp your left ear. You’re half tempted to tell him it’s mean to tease a fat girl like this - but you don’t think he means anything like that by it. He’s just a flirt by nature.
Before you can answer, he shoves the needle through your ear. You stiffen, a strained noise bubbling up out of your throat.
Johnny coos as he slips the earring into your ear. “One doon.”
“Uh-huh.” You sniffle. Not that it hurts badly, just a basic physical reaction. Johnny still gives you an empathetic smile.
The second goes quicker, Johnny locked in on his work. It’s interesting, seeing how intense they get. You Is it odd to wish someone would look at you like that? With that much focus and passion?
“There ye go…good girl.” He murmurs in that deep rumble that would have you squirming if you didn’t still have a needle through your ear. “Doin’ so good f’me...”
“You’re a devil, MacTavish.”
Johnny just chuckles, knowing full well exactly what he’s doing. He steps back to look at the final result after slipping the second stud into your ear. They feel hot - like two small ovens on either side of your head.
“If it weren’t for the piercings I’d think ye were blushing, hen.”
“You’re gonna get yourself slapped one of these days.” You scoff, sliding off the table.
“Wouldnnae be the first time.”
You find yourself rolling your eyes for the millionth time.
You grunt, squatting low in an attempt to pick the last of the parlor trash. It’s not that you mind, trash was part of your duties from the start, but holy shit do these boys put bricks in their bins? You’d think tattoos would make light trash. Especially after the sharps are disposed of separately.
“Solid?” Simon appears in the hall, eyes flicking over you. You still can’t tell how he feels about you. Neutral, you suppose. At least that’s all you can glean from behind his seemingly permanent black surgical mask.
“Ya.” You sigh, letting the bag drop and leaning back to stretch. “Just heavy. Swear y’all aren’t throwing rocks in these just to fuck with me?”
You give him a grin. Simon just cocks an eyebrow - exaggerated by the small piercing lining it. You think, maybe the slight shaking of his shoulder is a laugh. In combination won’t he crinkles in the corners of his eyes. Maybe not.
“‘ere.” Simon grunts, closing the short distance between you quickly before snatching up the bag like it weighs almost nothing.
You stutter, following after him toward the back exit. “You don’t have to-“
“Not a problem.” He grunts, tossing the thing over the side of the bin. He quietly leads you back inside, locking the door behind you “Johnny go’ you already?”
When you frown in confusion he points to his ears.
“Oh! Yeah.” You shrug, leading the way back to front desk to finish up your closing duties. “He’s insistent. I’d wanted them for a while anyway so I figured there’s no harm.”
“Give ‘im an inch...” He sighs, pointing to the black bar bridge piercing at the apex of his nose. “Somehow talked me into this shite.”
You tilt your head. “Yeah? I think it suits you.”
It really does. You can’t see most of his nose form under the mask but the arc of it leading up to bridge is strong, the piercing settling into the space nicely.
Simon breaks the silence. “You about done?”
“Almost. Just gotta check the ATM against the book real quick.” You nod.
He stares down at you for a moment, glancing out the semi-opaque window, now black with the night sky. There aren’t many street lamps on this side of town. You can only see a very faint glow from the one down by the car park.
“I’ll wait.” Simon settles his wide frame into Kyle’s usual chair.
“Oh! No you don’t have to! I’m sure you’re tired-“
“Wouldn’t feel right leavin’ you alone in the dark.” He cuts you off.
“It’s not a far walk-“
He scoffs. “Definitely not leaving you to walk alone.”
You sink your teeth into your lip, debating briefly on arguing. Based on his comfortable lean and crossed arms, it’s probably best to just let him walk you home. He looks so wide like that, veins prominent across his forearms. Fuck, you gotta find a boyfriend or booty call or something in this city. Anything to stop the temptation to stare at your hot coworkers.
It doesn’t take long to finish up your final chores. You turn all but one light off, wiring down from the bright overheads glaring at you all day. You glance over at Simon a few times while locking up the ATM, his covered face lit up by the light of his phone.
He leads you out of the shop once you’re finished, locking the door behind you and trying it a couple times to be sure. “Which way?”
“Uh, down here. It’s only twenty minutes.” You murmur, feeling guilty that you’ve kept him out extra late. You shove your hands in your hoodie pockets as you walk, the only sound on the street made up of your footsteps and some distant cars.
“What falls but never gets hurt?” Simon asks suddenly.
You frown. “Huh?”
“What falls but never gets hurt?”
You squint at him, trying to decipher anything from his face in the low light. You get nothing but a calm, warm gaze resting on you.
His eyes crinkle in the corners again. “Rain.”
“Pffft-“ You choke, caught off guard. “That’s such a lame pun.”
“Oh? I’ve got a better one.” Simon says, a smirk in his tone. “Why’d the mother clam scold her children?”
You chew your lip. God, you’re too literal to be clever enough for stupid puns and riddles. It doesn’t help that your head is spinning from this brick shithouse, incredibly attractive and intimidating man spitting popsicle puns at you.
“They were being shellfish.”
“Oh fuck off!” You shove at his arm playfully without thinking. He gives, let’s you push him slightly before you stiffen. “S-sorry! I don’t-“
“Nothin’ to apologize for.” The corners of his eyes crinkle deeper. Yeah, definitely a smile. You answer it with one of your own.
3K notes · View notes
pepperyduck · 28 days
Text
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growing old with kento nanami
word count: 2.8k
warnings: post-shibuya arc, descriptions of: surgery, recovery processes, depression, insomnia, trauma, therapy, coping mechanisms; pregnancy, marriage, crying. (18+ mdni!)
notes: this WILL have a part 2 and maybe 3! it will be very long so i'm splitting it up. even though the warnings seem kind of sad i promise it's a happy story :)
part 2 | masterlist
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“marry me.”
proposing to you was nanami’s first conscious thought after being in a coma for 5 days after shibuya. you were reading a book, peacefully keeping him company in his hospital room, not even noticing he was awake. your eyes fluttered up from your book, back down, and then up again.
“marry me, please,” he repeated. you stayed silent for a moment, eyes widening and mouth dropping. he wasn’t supposed to wake up.
“kento, oh my god,” you yelped, dropping your book and rushing to the hospital bed to look at him. his eyes were open, only slightly, and the weakest smile he could bear rested on his lips. you gently settled your hands on each side of his face, barely hovering over the charred skin. he looked so tired, and yet, he was asking you to marry him.
kento groaned when you hugged him, but you couldn’t stop yourself, you squeezed him gently and with care. a weak hand rested on your back, in between your shoulder blades. he was too weak to repeat his question again. but the only thing on his mind was if you would be his wife.
“yes, yes, i’ll marry you,” you cried into his chest, wetting the fabric of the hospital clothing.
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neither you nor nanami himself understood why he proposed to you in that moment. after waking up, his journey to recovery began with slow but steady progress. it took several months of intense rehabilitation and support from both sorcerers and doctors for him to regain his mobility. with their help, he was able to walk and move with a surprising degree of agility, nearly returning to how he was before shibuya. he also had a few cosmetic surgeries, in an attempt to minimize the scarring from all he had been through. within a few months, he was able to see his skin smooth out and hair grow from the side of his head. he wouldn’t look the same, ever; but you didn’t care. you loved kento, as he did you, the fact you were able to celebrate his recovery made you feel like the luckiest woman on the earth.
the loss of his previous strength and abilities weighed heavily on him, casting a shadow over his spirits. yet, amidst the struggles, he found solace in small victories and the support of those around him, your support meaning the most to him. although kento was deeply troubled by the realization that he could no longer pursue his life as a sorcerer, he came to accept it as the best possible outcome given the circumstances. this acceptance marked a pivotal shift in his perspective, allowing him to focus on rebuilding his life in new ways. before he turned in his resignation, he had made sure to recommend ino for a promotion. it was his last wish as a sorcerer.
after the almost year-long recovery process, kento surprised you with a beautiful ring, one of the ones you had talked about before he went on his trip. he proposed again, in the place you first met, this time without weak hands and barely audible words. he was able to find a job, one not nearly as draining as his job from before he returned to jujutsu – and began making plans for your wedding. the planning process didn’t take long, he wanted the wedding to make you happy.
your and kento’s wedding was outright beautiful. it was a stunning venue on a beach, hundreds of guests attended, friends and family alike. kento shed a few tears when he saw you walking down the aisle, clad in the most gorgeous attire he’d ever seen you wear, as his bride. his voice shook as he said his vows – vows that he wrote, almost a good 1,000 words – and he made you a million promises. promises he wouldn’t dare to break, promises to grow old together and live the life you both deserve.
at the reception, you told kento you had a surprise for him, and ran off to go get something from one of your bridesmaids. he was confused at first, because he didn’t need any more surprises, he was the happiest he’d ever been. a newlywed, married to you. but when you came back to the table, two small pieces of paper in your hands, he didn’t think it would be possible to be more joyous.
“we’re going to malaysia, for our honeymoon, kento,” you excitedly told him, showing off the two plane tickets scheduled in a week.
nanami was speechless, a huge smile with teeth plastered across his face, and he gave you the tightest hug he’d ever given anyone.
when the two of you traveled to malaysia, kento was at peace. he had never seen a place so charming and breathtaking, he remained entranced by the culture and landscapes. the two of you spent your time hiking in nature, watching waterfalls and having lovely picnics wherever felt right. kento was so ecstatic, a smile constant on his face as he watched his surroundings with never-ending wonder. he thanked you a million times over.
you had never seen him be so alive. he promised you that one day, he was going to build a house, right on the beach, just for the two of you.
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once you were back at your shared apartment, the reality of the past year and a half hit kento like a train. so much time had been spent recovering, constantly in and out of the hospital, planning for your wedding and improving both of your lives, he never had a chance to reflect on the genuine trauma he went through.
you didn’t notice for a while, but kento grew depressed, and restless at the same time. he began to spend his nights awake, insomnia brewing like piping hot tea, staying conscious until the early hours of the morning, doing any exercise or meditation to calm himself down and go to sleep. yet the visuals replayed over, and over, and over. the blood, the curses, the flames, the death. it hadn’t bothered him before, he thought, but he just never gave himself the time to soak it all in. and the depression – the depression was an all-new low for him. when kento wasn’t working, he was at his house, in the bed, while you were working or off running errands. you only noticed his new behavior when you woke up in an empty bed at 4 a.m. one night, 3 months after your honeymoon.
“mm…kento?” you called, footsteps heavily plopping down the hallway towards the bright lights of your kitchen. when you entered the room, you saw kento sprawled out on the floor, knees bent, with sweat rolling down his forehead. stepping over towards him, you kneeled down to look at him, and his head rolled to the side to look at you, too.
kento’s eyes looked so tired, the eyebags you hadn’t seen in years were full-fledged, his eyelids were droopy and exhausted. just by the emotion his eyes conveyed, you could see he was silently suffering, and he had been that way for a while.
“kento, what’s wrong?” you asked, bringing a hand to the side of his face to rub a thumb over his sweat-glistened cheek.
“i don’t…know,” he replied, defeat in his voice, “i can’t sleep. i haven’t slept. i don’t know.”
your husband always had a plan. he always knew everything; he always took care of the unknown and intimidating parts of life. for kento nanami to say “i don’t know” meant something was wrong, seriously wrong.
“sit up,” you softly demanded, gently pulling his shoulders off the floor. you sat on the ground, crossing your legs, and kento mirrored your actions, slumping when he finally sat up. “kento, honey,” you began, taking his hand in yours and resting it on his knee, “what’s going on?”
he was never one to talk about feelings, to talk about emotions felt deep down, because he wasn’t sure how to convey anything that would make him vulnerable. but as he sat in front of you, chest slightly heaving, such a burnt-out expression on his face, you knew there was something he wasn’t saying, but that something needed to be said.
“i can’t…” kento muttered, stopping himself for a second, “i can’t stop thinking.” he finally admitted, causing you to furrow your eyebrows with concern.
“about what, honey?” you sweetly asked, thumb caressing the back of his hand, tenderly rubbing back and forth.
“everything.” he stated, eyes flashing away from you to look at the floor next to him. you knew what he meant, though, but you had never seen him so pained from his work, especially from something that happened so long ago.
“tell me, baby,” you soothed him. you grabbed his other hand, causing him to look back at you pitifully. kento stayed silent for numerous moments, unsure as to what you could handle. but you were his wife, someone he was supposed to be able to confide in.
“so many people…died…” he mumbled, “i almost died. i saw what it looked like, i faced death.” his words began to come out quicker, “i’ve never seen that many people die, not even in shinjuku, and there was so much blood, and gojo almost, he almost-,” kento’s voice began to get shaky and uneven, a crack in his words as tears stung his eyes. “gojo almost died, too, and…i almost died, i saw it,” he repeated, “and yuuji – looked so upset, and takuma got hurt,” he clenched his eyes shut, words still coming out as a single string.
you moved closer, shifting onto your knees and wrapping kento in a comforting embrace. he clung to you immediately, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt as if trying to anchor himself in reality. his body shook with the intensity of his sobs, each breath coming in ragged gasps. the rawness of his anguish was palpable; his cries were filled with a pain that seemed almost too immense to bear. the image of the carnage replayed in his mind, a relentless cycle that he couldn’t escape. kento’s tears soaked through your shirt, repeating with his incoherent murmurs of horror. his face, once so composed, now twisted in an expression of deep, unrelenting despair.
kento wailed into your chest for hours that night, unable to stop his shuttering and repetition of the same phrases. he only calmed down when the sun began to rise, slowly illuminating the insides of your home. once kento parted his head from your chest, he looked you in the eyes, asking for help without saying a word. you wiped away his tears and grabbed the sides of his face, promising him you will get him anything he needs. kento fell asleep around 7 a.m. that morning, with the help of you running your fingers through his hair, shushing him and telling him it will all be okay.
he believed you. kento nanami put all his faith in you, his wife, to help him fix his problem he hadn’t an idea on how to mend. and so, you did everything in your power to help him. you spent countless hours on research, finding therapists that specialized in helping people like him, and you came across different mechanisms to help him cope. most of all, you continued your duties as a supportive wife, constantly telling him to get up and go to the supermarket, or out to the library. little by little, these smaller things combined together to work out, and kento began to get better. it was a breath of fresh air, as well as a weight lifted off both your and his shoulders, when he began to smile again, and shifted his view of life to a more positive outlook. he was alive, he began to feel alive again.
kento nanami was finally beginning to live the life he desired and deserved, all with you by his side.
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a couple of weeks after kento’s 30th birthday, you came rushing into his office, tears of joy — and anxiety — pricked in your eyes. soon as his eyes landed on your seemingly upset expression, he was concerned.
“what’s wrong, dear?” he asked, pushing his chair away from the desk to stand up. you quickly closed the door behind you, leaning against it, and you dug around in your purse to pull out a small plastic baggie. when you tossed them to kento, it only took him a few seconds to realize what you were there to tell him.
“…you’re pregnant?” kento beamed, rushing over to you to wrap his arms around your waist. he quickly lifted you up in the air, grip so tight as if he never wanted to let go, your feet kicked happily.
kento always wanted to have kids, but being a sorcerer, he always thought it was too dangerous. you had some conversations about it after shibuya, and the both of you agreed that if it happened, it happened. and your children would have the best life possible, of course; but the glimmer of hope you had for having kids slowly burnt out over time with both of you increasing in age. in that moment, though, kento had so much hope and pure happiness, just at the thought of growing a little family with you.
the first few months of your pregnancy were hectic. between doctor’s appointments, mixed with morning sickness and fatigue, you thought it would never end. although you were happy to start a family, negative emotions easily overcame you, and kento noticed. he tried his best to be there for you, but his work schedule conflicted with your lives, and he soon realized he needed a change in his life. he needed to change your life and his, because he would be damned if he was going to return to the same boring life as he had before.
using his savings and bonus money from his job, he bought you a house. a real house, with acres of land and space for your family to grow, so much bigger than the previous apartment you shared with him. a house that he owned, a house that would contain all the joy for your future. he made sure it was grand, with a huge kitchen, and multiple bedrooms – not caring if only two of them were filled, or if all of them housed someone. before kento showed you the house, he set up a nursery.
“where are we going?” you inquired for about the 50th time that day. you had been in the car for hours, and all kento would say in return is, “you’ll find out.” nonetheless, you were excited, kento had always given you the best surprises, but you had never driven so far with him.
“we’re here.” kento stated, pulling into an empty concrete driveway big enough to fit 6 cars.
“where are we? did satoru move?” you asked, the huge display of a home proving to be a bit intimidating for you. kento didn’t reply this time, he only scurried out of the car to come and open your door, helping you get out with a kind hand.
you didn’t even understand what was going on until you walked up the front steps, and a few keys jingled in kento’s hands until he found the right one to unlock the door. the door to your new home.
“wait...wait. kento,” you said, standing still as your husband strode inside, “what is this?” the familiar tears of joy rushed to your eyes, and you just stood there with a shocked expression plastered on your face.
“this is our new home, honey,” kento chimed, reaching a hand out again to welcome you inside. you took his hand, albeit a little hesitantly, and stepped inside your house.
“oh, kento,” you blubbered, throwing your arms around his neck, tears beginning to trickle down your face.
you and kento explored the house for hours, marveling at all the space and beauty he bought for you. you thanked him a million times over, crying at each new space you discovered in the house, you felt sheer gratefulness for your husband and all he did for you. and kento, well, he did all of it to thank you, to thank you for never losing hope in him, and to thank you for the joy you’d made him experience. he was so undeniably in love with you, just as he had always been, and he promised himself he was going to do everything in his power to live the life he deserved with you. he was going to live up to every word he made in his vows, every promise he made with you, each and every word he had spoken to you was going to show in your lives.
even from the moment he met you, he knew he was going to spend his life with you.
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taglist: @kundere20000000 @missakward123 @cherriee-ee @starlightanyaaa @lagataprrr @hazzelle-kento
let me know if you'd like to be added!
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sturniqlo · 1 month
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Kiss in the Kitchen- M.S
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summary: both Matt and Y/n find themselves in the kitchen at two in the morning alone. Blurb
cw: cursing, brothers best friend trope, suggestive material (no actual smut), almost getting caught
masterlist | join my taglist | part 2
-----------------------------------------------
2:16 AM read the digital clock that was propped on Y/n's nightstand. She huffed and turned to the other side facing the wall. It was probably the tenth time she has turned to the opposite side trying to fall asleep. She shouldn't have drank that iced coffee before bed.
After turning around one more time, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed and her feet met the cold wooden floor. Y/n made her way, barefoot, to her door and opened it and a cold breeze made it way to her. "Holy fuck." She gasped, her brother must've moved the ac once more.
She felt her nipples harder up against her oversized tee. Making her way downstairs, the creaking of the stairs made her cringe, not wanting to wake anyone else up in the house. Through the dark, she made her way to the kitchen and opened up three fridge getting herself a water bottle, keeping the fridge open for a light source. "Hey." Someone said from behind her. "What the-" She yelped, spilling some water on her shirt. She turned around and sees Matt wearing a tank top and pajama pants hung low on his hips.
"Matt?" She whisper yelled. "Shit, my bad. Didn't mean to scare you." He chuckled, reaching in the fridge for a water of his own. "When did you get here?" Still at a whisper. "Around seven? Daniel texted if I wanted to spend the night." He opens his water bottle. Y/n got home at nine, probably why she didn't know he was here. "I didn't see your car when I got here."
"I had to park in the next block over, there was no parking and I didn't want to take your spot in the driveway." She hummed in response. "So, why are you awake at-" He looks at the stove. "Two twenty eight in the morning?"
"Cant sleep, I drank coffee earlier so I fucked up with that one." Y/n giggles. "You?" She takes another sip of her water. "Your brother snores like a middle aged man, I might crash on the couch." He walks between Y/n and the counter, putting his hand on her waist to get by.
She cant help but get goosebumps all over and clench between her thighs although it was a small gesture. Y/n leans against the counter and tries to shake all the dirty thoughts out of her head. "I just realized, we've never been alone together. Just us two." He walks back from throwing away his empty water bottle. "Really? I- I've never noticed." Y/n stutters.
"Really." He nods, walking up to stand in front of her, placing his hands on the counter, caging her in. "O- oh." Her heart starts beating fast. She's always found Matt attractive. Hot. Every name in the book. "Why're you nervous? Thought you always wanted this, I see how you look at me all the time." Matt grabs her jaw so she can look up at him. "Do you want me?" He says.
"Yes," She nods. "I want you." With that, Matt placing his lips on hers. They pull apart to see if they were okay with it. When nobody completely pulled away, Y/n kissed him again. The kiss was mix of tongue and teeth clashing. Messy, just how Y/n imagined it. "I've wanted this for so long." Matt pulls away to kiss down her jaw. "Fuck- me too." She gasps at Matt sucking on her neck.
She tugs on his hair and brings him back to her lips. If this was the only time she'd have Matt like this, she was going to make last. They could still taste the faintness of the minty toothpaste on each other. Matt brought his hands under her shirt and massaged his cold hands onto her warm waist while her arms came up around her neck, her hands slightly tugging on the hair on the nape of his neck.
His hands crept up her soft belly to underneath her breast. She gasped against his lips. Matt squeezed her tits and she whimpered when his thumb circled her nipples. Matt grew harder at the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. Wanting her shirt off, he brought his hands to the bottom of her shirt. "Can I?" He whispered against her swollen wet lips. "Please." She nodded.
When the shirt came above her breast, Matt was awed at her bare chest. As it was going to come off above her head, they heard the stairs creek and Y/n pulled her shirt back down as Matt was frozen. "Hey guys. Why are you two up?" Her brother enters the kitchen and sees Matt looking into the fridge. "I- uh I couldn't sleep and came to get water." Y/n awkwardly held up her unfinished water as she was breathing heavily, but her brother didn't notice as he was still half asleep.
"And I- you were snoring so I came to crash on the couch and found her- uh here." Matt scratched his neck. "I'll- I'll see you two tomorrow." Y/n said and left the kitchen leaving the two boys in the kitchen.
Back in her room, she sat on her bed in disbelief. Did that actually happen? Something that she's been wanting for so long just happened? Y/n could still feel the softness of his lip on her, his hands all over her body. Yet, she still had the ache in between her legs.
Ten minutes later, her phone buzzed on her nightstand. Picking it up, she saw a instagram dm from Matt.
matthew.sturniolo
keep your door unlocked
i'm going once daniel is asleep
1K notes · View notes
chunghasweetie · 4 months
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𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐎 | J.JK
— part 2
— pairing | dom!oc x nerdy sub!jjk
— summary | loser nerd jk has crushed on her for years and is assigned to be her college tutor for her calculus class. studying doesn’t go exactly as planned and he ends up losing his virginity in the best way possible.
— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)
virginity loss, cussing, corruption kink, female dom, light dirty talk, belittling, dick sucking, unprotected sex, etc
— word count | 3.5k words
— song suggestion | rush — william singe
His nerves were tingling with anxiety. He had imagined a day like this since he laid eyes on her.
His crush first stemmed from middle school. Then it followed him through high school, and now his college career.
Y/n had always been the typical token super pretty and popular girl. She was funny too, he couldn’t help but giggle to himself when she was making jokes with her friends across the room.
Jungkook was beyond nervous. He’s had a crush on her forever, and now he was standing in front of her home for their very first tutoring session.
Jungkook had arrived at Y/n’s home, exhaling to himself. “I can do this.” He mumbled before knocking on her door.
The door opened and there she was. A short denim mini skirt and a matching top.
He was already done for.
“Oh hey Jungkook.” She smiled, “You’re here already. I didn’t think you’d be early. Come in.”
He feels his heart skip a beat as Y/n opens the door, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
“H-hi! Yes, it's me” He clears his throat. “Thank you for inviting me inside.” He steps inside, taking in the sight of her apartment.
“Of course.” She led him to the dining room table her hips swaying in her mini skirt that showed off her figure beautifully.
His eyes widen and follow her every move, watching as she leads him to the dining room table.
He can't help but feel a rush of excitement as he takes in the sight of her hips swaying in her skirt.
He had never imagined they’d be in such a small space. Alone with her. His heart could almost explode with excitement.
Her home didn’t look much like the google maps photos like he seen online.
“Is right here okay?” She asked him, her table with the notebooks and studying material she needed already set up.
He swallows hard and nods, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I-It’s fine.”
The two sat at her table studying, Jungkook using more complex language than she was used to.
She could grasp some of it, but Y/n wasn’t necessarily the strongest in the subject.
“I’ve always sucked at math. Let alone calculus.” She laughed. “It must be nice to know everything.”
He chuckles nervously, shaking his head. “No, not everything. Just... some things. Math is definitely my strong suit.” He takes a deep breath, gathering his composure before turning his attention to her math homework “Okay, let's continue.”
She simply nodded. She leaned closer to him, reading the book that was further in his direction.
Her breasts were huge. He wondered how her posture managed to stay so straight with those jugs weighing her down.
Her right breast was pressed against his shoulder, driving him crazy.
He tries to focus on the homework, but finds himself distracted by her low cut top and her large breasts on view.
He can't help but glance, feeling his face flush with embarrassment as he realizes she might notice. “Uh, so... uh...”
“Are you okay?” Y/n asked him.
“Yes.” He cleared his throat.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes I'm fine. It's just... uh... hot in here.” He tries to refocus on her homework assignment, but his mind keeps drifting to her body and how close she's standing next to him.
“I’ll go turn the ac on” She got up, hips swaying as she went to turn on the AC. She eventually came back. “Better?” She sat back down.
‘Someone kill me.’ Jungkook thought to himself.
He tries to focus on the books and studying material, but his gaze keeps drifting back to her exposed thighs and the way her skirt rides up
He nods, grateful for the cooler air. He watches as she sits back down next to him, hips swaying in a way that makes his heart race.
“This is so hard” She groaned. “Calculus is so difficult.”
He nods in agreement, trying to stifle a smile at her cute groan. “Yeah, uh... It can be tough sometimes.”
He starts going over the problem with her, letting his hand rest on hers gently as he points out what she did wrong.
“I think it’s the table.” She tells him. “I focus more on my bed, it’s where I’m most comfortable. Jungkook, would you be okay studying there with me?” Y/n suggested.
His heart races at the thought of having her in a more private setting, but he knows he shouldn't let his crush get the best of him.
He nods and starts gathering the homework assignments and books. “Yeah— sure, let's move to the couch.”
She smirked to herself on the way to her bedroom. Her plan was working perfectly, and working quicker than she expected.
His eyes widened at her room. He was finally inside. He always seen a few corners when he was stalking her Instagram late at night, but now being there in person sent him over the edge.
It was so her. The decorations, the layout, the scent. It was perfectly her.
“Much better” She sat down on her bed, starting to write in her notes with him.
He watches as she writes, trying not to get too distracted by the way her hair falls over her shoulders and the way she bites her lip in concentration.
He clears his throat and starts going over the problems again, trying to focus on the homework instead of his crush.
About an hour had passed of them studying, and she was beyond bored. Y/n was over hearing about stupid questions she had no interest in finding the solution for.
“Like I said, when you plug in the formula—“
“Don’t you have a girlfriend waiting on you?” Y/n interrupted him. “You’ve been here for a while.”
“I-I don’t have one.” He swallowed. “And I told the professor I’d spend as much time as needed for you to pass.”
He was still talking about school, making her boredom increase. “Do you do anything outside of school?” She changed the topic.
He blinks at her, surprised by the sudden question. He fidgets with his glasses and stammers a bit before answering. “I...I go to the internet cafe with my friends and do coding and stuff.. I help code games and such. It's...it's not very exciting, but it keeps me busy.”
“Cute.” She chuckled. “So you’re like a full time nerd?”
He blushes at her teasing and nods, looking down at his hands. “Y-yes, I suppose you could say that. I do enjoy learning and electronics...and working on computers gives me a chance to use my skills to help others. It's...it's important to me.“
“Is that why you’re single?” She asked him. “Too busy studying and programming?”
He nodded.
Wasn’t necessarily the entire truth. Some of the other girls at the cafe definitely took an interest but he was all about you.
He was a quiet guy but he always spoke up about you. All of his friends at the internet cafe knew about his crush on you. He would be teased daily because well, look at him and you.
He didn’t care. He knew from the start it wasn’t realistic considering the crowds you stuck around with.
Jungkook would rather be at home with his computer while you’d be parting with sororities and frat boys.
“You’re a busy guy hm? Well when was the last time you’ve had a girlfriend?” Y/n asked him, moving the text books as she inched closer.
“I-I— Well.” He swallowed, “I’ve never had one before..” He itched the back of his neck.
Her eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”
“It just— never happened.” He told her.
“That’s just so hard to believe.” She analyzed him with her feline like eyes.. “I think you’re really handsome and cute.”
“Really?” His voice came out a lot louder than he meant to, clearing his throat. “Y-You do?”
She nodded, “I always have.” She suddenly climbed on his lap, making Jungkook let out a slight gasp in surprise.
He looks up at her in surprise, his heart beating faster at her words. He stammers out a thank you, feeling his face heat up again. “I...I'm...I'm glad you think so...”
“It’s okay if I sit here right?” She asked, making him nod rather quickly.
“Good.” She giggled. “So you’ve never had a girlfriend… you at least have lost your virginity right?”
Jungkook looked away shyly. “N-No..”
She had always had the reputation of being the popular pretty girl. Her entire friend group and social circle was like that. So naturally it was expected for her to end up with a frat guy.
Y/n had been with a few, and was absolutely bored out of her mind. They were cocky and disgusting, seeming to like their bros more than actual women.
She had no interest in anyone like that.
She always had a thing for nerdy and loser men who looked like they had never had a chance with losing their virginity.
Her friends were always teasing her about her type. No one could understand how she could really be attracted to a guy like that.
Y/n noticed Jungkook towards her sophomore year of high school. He had always been attractive to her but she really took a notice to him at that time.
He was tall, handsome, and quiet. Super shy. The only time she had seen him really talk was during a history presentation when he had to read off some slides.
Her horny teenage brain definitely took notice towards the bulge in his pants whenever she looked his way.
Y/n was always with her friend group and Jungkook was always in way better and smarter classes than her. He never had any social media either, so she never had the chance to really make a move on him.
It was now their junior year in college and once she heard he was assigned to be her tutor, she had to do something.
Jungkook had hardly ever kissed a girl. A girl pecked his lips in his junior year of high school and he absolutely hated it.
Hated it because it wasn’t her.
She shifts on his lap. “That’s so cute. Are you waiting for someone to take it?”
He nodded quickly. He was hard as a rock. Her skirt was practically all the way lifted as she sat on his lap, driving him insane.
“Mm I’d be honored to volunteer.” She suggested.
“T-Take it— P-please.” He was practically whimpering out to her.
She didn’t waste her time, leaning forward to kiss his lips. She wasn’t too rough on him, but she definitely was working her lips on his.
“Gonna make you feel real good.” She smacked her lips against his, grabbing his hands, placing them over her ass cheeks. “Grab it okay?”
Jungkook bent his fingers, now holding her ass in his hands.
She traveled her lips down to the crook of his neck, creating a trail of dark hickeys.
Y/n was grinding on his lap with her skirt on as she marked up his neck. “No hickeys before either?”
There was no way this was really happening. Jungkook could go into shock. This was even better than he had ever imagined.
His breathing becomes heavier and heavier as she grinds on his lap, feeling the friction between their bodies.
He moans as she marks up his neck, his mind clouded with pleasure. He whimpers as she asks about hickeys, shaking his head slightly. “N-no...”
“You’re so much more vocal than I imagined. and I’m just kissing you.” She giggled.
He blushes profusely as she speaks about his vocalness, feeling embarrassed at how turned on he is by her touch.
He looks up at her as she pulls away from his neck, seeing the marks she left on his skin.
“So cute..” She pulled away from his neck. “All marked up, it looks intense.” She grabbed her handheld mirror, showing him what she did to him.
He gulps, reaching up to touch them gently. seeing the marks she left on his skin. He gulps, reaching up to touch them gently.
“You’re comfy right baby?” She asked him, making sure he was at ease while she tainted him.
“I-I’m fine.” He shakes his head, leaning into her touch as she runs her fingers through his hair. “N-no... it just... makes me want more... of you...” He confesses, feeling vulnerable and honest in front of her.
“You’re more than ready to lose your virginity huh baby?” She baby talked him. “Poor baby wants to be touched so bad.”
He blushes deeply at her words, nodding slowly. He's been a virgin for so long and he wants nothing more than to experience it with her.
“Y-yes...” He stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. I want to... be with you...”
“I’m almost there sweetheart. You’re doing so good being patient for me.” She comforted, seeing how whiny and desperate he was. It didn’t help that he was incredibly hard under her.
Her praises were driving him insane and she hadn’t even took his pants off yet. “Wha— What now?” He asks softly, hoping he doesn't sound too desperate.
She was practically drooling over the sight of him. His dick had been teasing her for centuries through his jeans, and she finally had it at her disposal.
He lets out a involuntary gasp as she unzips his pants and pulls out his dick. He blushes as she compliments him on his size. He never thought anyone would say that about him. “I-it's not that big...”
“You’re so humble.” She smirked. “I don’t even think I’ll be able to fit it inside me or my mouth.” She chuckled. “Let me know if it’s too much. Mm gonna sit on it first okay? Don’t have a condom so you’re going to have to pull out when you feel it okay?”
He nodded eagerly. “I-I’ll try my best.”
“That’s all I can ask of you.” She latched her lips onto his lips once more before sliding herself onto him, making their lips disconnect from their moans.
He was a mess from the start. Her pussy was so tight and wet, driving him insane.
He had always imagined what it would feel like but this was even better.
“O-Oh wow.” He whined, “F-Feels so t-tight”
Y/n bounced on him slowly, allowing him to feel all of her.
“It’s good huh baby?” Y/n cooed. “You’re so big baby”
“Mmph— it’s so wet—“ He whimpered.
He lets out a gasp, his hands instinctively reaching out to grab onto her hips for support. "F-fuck!"
She was moving her hips in a rhythmic motion that sent waves of pleasure coursing through his entire body. He moans softly, biting his lip to keep from making too much noise.
Y/n took a notice of his actions. “Don’t want you being quiet. I’ve waited so long to have you like this.” She stopped moving on top of him.
Jungkook's eyes snap open as Y/n stops moving, his cock throbbing with need and frustration at the sudden lack of stimulation.
He looks up at her with a desperate expression, pleading for her to continue with his actions. "P-please..."
She grabbed his neck subtly, not enough to really hurt him. She turned his chin to the side, “Covered you in so many hickeys, all for you to be quiet now?”
Jungkook's heart races as Y/n grabs his neck, a small whimper escaping his lips at the touch. He looks at her with a mixture of surprise and arousal, his mind racing at the sudden change in her demeanor. "I-I'm sorry...”
“What’re you going to do differently if I keep moving?” She growled into his ear. “Tell me. Use that pretty mouth.”
Jungkook's breath hitches as Y/n growls in his ear, his heart pounding in his chest. He swallows hard, trying to find the words to answer her question. "I-I'll... I'll make more noise...”
“Good boy…” She began moving again, “Mm— feels so good” Y/n moaned into his ear.
Jungkook's eyes roll back in pleasure as Y/n begins moving again, her moans in his ear sending chills down his spine.
He grips the sheets beneath him tightly, his body trembling with need as she bouncing on him. "F-fuck...I— never imagined p-pussy would be this good”
His desperate pleas sent her over the edge. She loved how he was so whiny and desperate all for her.
“Never baby?” She hummed, her voice sensually whispering against his ear.
Jungkook lets out a low groan as Y/n’s words register in his head, his mind filled with filthy thoughts. He nods his head, unable to find the words to speak. "N-no... I never thought... f-fuck..."
He was absolutely pussydrunk, the feeling of his cock being sunk into her pussy made him go insane.
If he was already obsessed with her before, he knew he was absolutely fucked now. “I-I m-might… mmgh…”
She knew how lost he was in her pussy, knowing he was close to cumming at any second.
She quickly got up off his cock, making him whimper at the sudden separation.
“Can’t have you cum inside baby.” She hushed him, knowing he was about to complain.
“I-I want to cum so bad— Please let me” He whined.
“You’re gonna cum baby. I wouldn’t do that to you.” She made her way off his lap.
She got in between his legs and on her knees. “Gonna suck you off pretty boy.”
She had no problem sucking him off after he was just inside of her. She opened her mouth, licking his tip to test the waters.
He can't help but moan as she licks his tip. He doesn't know what came over him, he bites his lip as she starts bobbing her head up and down on him.
He lets out a deep moan as she takes him all in. He's never felt anything like this before. He tries to hold back, but he can feel himself already getting close. He whined, warning her that he's about to cum.
She let him cum all in her mouth, not dare wasting a single drop as she swallowed.
He couldn’t believe what just happened. He's cumming in her mouth and she's swallowing every drop. He's never felt so satisfied in his life. He pulls out and pants. “Thank you... that was amazing.”
He was so infatuated with her. He had been beating his dick for years, whining and whimpering in his bedroom at merely the idea of his dick being sucked by her.
He blushes and stutters, trying to find the words. He can't believe what just happened.
“Y-you.. it was... amazing. I don't know what to say. Thank you.” He turns to face her, his eyes filled with gratitude as he repeated his thanks.
The two hung out for a bit longer, actually getting her tutoring done. She giggled. “i’ll see you at school tomorrow.” She waved as they bid their goodbyes.
He smiles and nods, still in shock about what happened. “Y-yeah, see you then.” He watches her shut the door, his heart racing with excitement. He can't believe she just sucked his dick, took his virginity, and then he was back to tutoring her.
His dreams finally came true.
༊—
The next day she was walking with her friends, and seemed to pass Jungkook’s friends group. She could hear Jungkook’s friends teasing him.
“Bro you have a hickey?!” They stared at his neck in amazement, adjusting their glasses to look closely.
Like stated, they were nobodies. All of them. Never had any interactions with women in their lives.
Jungkook covers his neck with his hand, trying to hide the hickey. He didn't realize it was so obvious, but he's glad he got it. He can't stop thinking about last night and her. “Sh-shut up gu-guys!”
His face turns bright red, shushing them and trying to avoid any more attention. “F-Fuck this is embarrassing.” He can't help but think about her again and the amazing time they had last night. He's already looking forward to seeing her again and continuing their tutoring sessions.
Y/n’s friends looked over at the boys. “What do you think that’s all about?” They asked amongst themselves.
“Why does it matter? Probably just some boring video game release. Or maybe a new textbook was added to the library!” One of the girls laughed.
Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle to herself, knowing damn well there would be more where that came from.
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benevolentbones · 3 months
Text
newcomer | spencer reid x fem!reader part 2
part 1
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warnings: swearing, v mild dirty thoughts
word count: 1.3k
summary: your dad calls you on your day off
a/n: thank you so so much for all the support on my last few works, it means the world!! i love reading through all the comments! please if you have a fic request please let me know!!
it had been a few days since you dropped in to visit your dad at the bau, but your mind kept wandering back to the hazel eyed man you met.
you found his awkwardness quite adorable, and the way his face flushed when you spoke to him, made you smile.
you had heard a lot about the team over the years, so it was nice to put faces to names after your father had returned home that evening.
today was your day off, and you didn’t really have many plans, maybe you’d go and grab a coffee or take a walk around the park, who knows.
you stretched back against the plush sofa in your living room, flicking through the channels on your tv.
your phone began to chime, blasting out your ringtone. you picked it up on third ring, bringing it to your ear.
“hello?”
“y/n, are you at home?” your father questioned.
“yeah dad- i’m just watching tv at the moment, what’s up?” you sat up, scooting to the edge of the couch.
“can you do me a huge favour?”
you hummed in response “what is it?”
“in my home office, i left the latest case files- would you come to the bureau and drop them off?”
you chewed your bottom lip. on one hand, you didn’t really want to drive thirty minutes to and from your dads work, just to be there for less than five minutes. on the other, those five minutes could be spent talking or spencer reid.
“i’ll be there soon, dad.” you replied, hanging up the phone.
~
you practically raced to the bureau, cutting the usual thirty plus minute drive down to twenty three. a new record.
you clutched the case files to your side, making your way inside the building and making a b line for the bullpen.
morgan, garcia and reid were all sat around spencer’s desk, the younger man rambling on about the book he had just finished reading, which was a recommendation from penelope.
“honestly the plot could have been better- and i didn’t really like the-“ spencer was interrupted with a dig from morgan, whos eyes were glued to the elevator doors of the bullpen.
“why’d you do that ow.” spencer complained, rubbing the aching spot on his forearm. he turned his gaze to where both morgan and garcia were looking.
and there you stood. you had just stepped out of the elevator, you weren’t in the same office attire you had adorned the last time you visited the bau.
you were wearing a tight pair of black jeans that flared slightly at the leg, with a striped button down fitted shirt which rode up slightly, showing off part of your midriff.
“damn little gideon is mad fine.” morgan mumbled earning a quizzical look from spencer.
“little gideon- ew is that what you’re calling her?” penelope’s face contorted into one of disgust.
“i mean, you aren’t wrong..” she added, the blonde woman was practically undressing you with her eyes.
“guys come on- that’s a bit much don’t you think?” spencer mumbled, though his eyes did not once leave your form as you walked across the room towards gideon’s office.
“you’re just saying that because you like her, ain’t that right lover boy?” morgan cracked a smile, smacking spencer on the shoulder.
“shut up man..”
“do you really think gideon would want you dating his daughter?” derek mused.
“i mean anything is better than you..” spencer mumbled jokingly.
you reached your fathers office, balancing the files in one arm while using the other to knock against the oakwood door.
“come in.”
you pushed the door open, to reveal gideon leaning back in his desk chair, case files spread across the table. he had a telephone pressed in between his ear and his shoulder.
“hey dad- i brought the files you needed.” you smiled, shuffling over to his desk and plopping the bundle of papers onto his cluttered work space.
“thanks hon, you want to wait outside? i’ll be done in a few minutes and we can grab a coffee?”
you nodded, allowing gideon to continue his phone call. you backed out of his office, walking down the steps into the main section of the bullpen.
you scanned the room, your eyes landing on the three agents huddled around spencer’s desk.
you plucked up the courage and began to saunter over to them.
“hey reid look.” penelope whispered just loud enough for spencer to hear, immediately his head shot up, his gaze softening when he realised you were making your way over to him.
“good luck tiger.” morgan grinned, both he and garcia leaving the premises upon your arrival, after giving you a small smile.
“hey dr. reid right?” you mumbled once you reached his desk.
his eyes met yours, through his wire-framed glasses, and he nodded.
“yeah- you can call me spencer though- you’re y/n? gideon’s daughter?” he stumbled upon his words, rushing the sentences together.
you hummed in response, perching yourself against the genius’ desk.
“he’s told me a lot about you.”
“all good things i hope-“ spencer began, a slight nervousness to his voice.
this made you chuckle, “yes, all good things, i promise.”
“i hope you don’t mind keeping me company, i’m just waiting for dad to get off of the phone.” you eyed spencer, watching as he frantically neatened his desk.
“no-no not at all, i’m enjoying your company.” he mumbled out.
from the corner of his eye he could see morgan and garcia watching their interaction from the kitchenette, morgan had a cocky grin plastered onto his face and garcia held her thumbs up supportively.
spencer let out a breathy sigh, slumping down into his desk chair. he pondered for a moment, considering being forward. he didn’t want to come across as too needy or awkward, but if he was being honest with himself that’s exactly what he was.
he watched as you sat on the edge of his desk, happily swinging you legs back and forth, glancing around the bullpen.
fuck it.
“y/n?” spencer began, not being able to stop the crimson staining his cheeks.
“spencer.” you giggled.
“would you, i don’t know maybe like to go for dinner sometime- with..me?” you could sense the anxiety in his voice, the brunette avoiding your gaze as he fumbled with a pen on his desk.
you felt your cheeks heat up, and you reached over to place a hand on spencer’s arm. his eyes flickered up to look at you when he felt your touch.
“i would love to, let me give you my number.” you smiled happily, jumping from the desk.
you took the pen from spencer’s grasp, your fingers brushing against his causing a spark from the contact.
you picked up a pad of sticky notes and began scribbling down your number.
as you were doing so, gideon had left his office and was making his way towards the two of you.
“here, i’m free friday if you are.” you mumbled, passing him the paper and pen back.
“o-okay i’ll call you.” spencer’s eyes were now on gideon who had come to an abrupt stop, resting his hand on your shoulder.
“lets get going, kid.”
you nodded, shooting spencer a smile. “i’ll see you soon, dr. reid.”
and with that you had walked on ahead, gideon bringing his arms into a folded position in front of his chest.
spencer swallowed hard, feeling beads of sweat build up on his forehead.
“you want to take my daughter out?”
“uh yes, yes sir-“
agent gideon pondered for a moment, eyeing the younger man. he had worked with him for a few years, he trusted him to be sensible with you, and out of everyone he was probably the best pick.
“better you than morgan.” gideon shrugged, and with that comment he followed you out the door.
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tinycoffeeroom · 5 months
Text
just friends | lando norris
face claim: none ♡
request: here !
part 2 !
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📍 sass cafe, monaco
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👤 bffstagram, landonorris liked by bffstagram, landonorris and 59,203 others
y/nstagram dj lando came out of retirement for the night🤠
landonorris 😎 only for you xx ↳ y/nstagram i'm honoured mr norris 🫡 ↳ fan i love my besties who don't know they're my besties
bffstagram bro my tummy hurts ↳ y/nstagram i'm coming round with coffee and croissants you big baby ↳ bffstagram i love my gf ♥️ y/nstagram
fan i wanna party with y/nlando so BAD dude ↳ y/nstagram if you ever find yourself in monaco hmu xx
user ew flipping off the camera so ladylike ↳ y/nstagram idk your mum quite likes my fingers 🫶 ↳ fan ☠️☠️☠️ i love her
fan bffstagram is so hot, i need her ↳ bffstagram thank u babycakes 💗
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liked by bffstagram, lilymhe and 69,928 others
y/nstagram rainy days in monaco 🌧️
lilymhe i deserve financial compensation for the emotional turmoil tfios sent me through ↳ y/nstagram don't,,, sat and sobbed my eyes out at the last 100 pages
fan how to lose a guy in 10 days... tfios... who hurt you y/n? ↳ y/nstagram hahahah nothing like that! i promise i'm all good!
bffstagram i still have a headache from crying at that book, next time i choose what we're reading for book club ↳ y/nstagram BORINGGGGG who doesn't love doomed romance? ↳ fan you guys have a book club? thats so cute 😭 ↳ y/nstagram yep! it's me, bff, kika, lily and flavy!! ↳ alexandrasaintmleux and no one thought to invite me?? ↳ y/nstagram come join us babe!! ❤️
landonorris wow, didn't take you for a sappy romance reader ↳ y/nstagram there's a lot you don't know about me comment deleted ↳ y/nstagram tfios can make even the iciest bitch cry (it's me, i'm the icy bitch)
landonorris also answer ur damn texts ↳ y/nstagram sorry idk how to read suddenly ↳ fan The Lando Norris gets aired, there's hope for the rest of the bitchless community ↳ landonorris dude...
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liked by fan, fan and 103,028 others
f1gossip Eagle eyed Sass Cafe goers managed to capture Lando Norris getting cosy with an unknown blonde girl. Rumoured girlfriend Y/N L/N was nowhere to be seen. Trouble in paradise for the young duo?
fan delete this rn y'all are fucking up my y/nlando chances
fan rumoured girlfriend?? i thought they were just friends ↳ fan that's what they both say, but they're always very close whenever they've been seen out together ↳ fan i'm pretty sure there was like a super grainy photo of them kissing but you can't really tell if it's either of them ↳ fan hey how about we don't speculate on people's love lives???
fan y/n has been absent from social media for like a month too ... its so over for us y/nlando'ers
fan her instagram is girlstagram! from what i could see before she went private, she posted a selfie of her and lando and they looked very close ↳ fan damn the fbi needs to hire you or smth
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liked by bffstagram, estebanocon and 65,928 others
y/nstagram thuggin it out (i've listened to your best american girl 34 times today i think bffstagram is about to smother me with a pillow)
fan um who hurt my bestie ???
fan whoever hurt y/n must die at the hand of my sword
fan lando norris i am in your walls FIX THIS
bffstagram i would never smother you xx also come out of ur room it is boring as FUCK out here ↳ y/nstagram damn cant a girl go through it in peace? ↳ bffstagram absolutely not, i have wine and nibbles get out here NEOOWWW or i'm breaking into ur room ↳ y/nstagram the door is open babygirl
fan ik this is a parasocial friendship but are you ok y/n? ☹️ we love you ↳ y/nstagram oh sweetie ❤️ i'll be fine, sometimes you just gotta be a lil sad y'know? thank you for asking, ily ❤️ ↳ fan ily, take care of yourself 🥺 ♥️ y/nstagram
estebanocon chérie, i don't know what's wrong but i hope you're ok! lets grab coffee soon, flavy misses you! ☺️ ↳ y/nstagram thank u este 🫶🥺 text me when you're free! tell flavy i love her 💗 ↳ flavy.barla i love you too 💕 ♥️ y/nstagram
fan no lando like, i have one (1) fear ↳ fan do not even speak that into the universe
fan after f1gossips post, i have my speculations ↳ fan dude, if he fumbled y/n he really will be lando nowins
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liked by flavy.barla, francisca.c.gomes and 10 others
y/npriv absolutely not thuggin it out lads
flavy.barla chouchou (sweetheart) 💔 that's it, me and este are taking you out for lunch tomorrow ↳ y/nstagram nooo don't let me ruin your date time!! ↳ flavy.barla nope it's already done! este's booked that little restaurant you like on pl. du casino ↳ y/nstagram le salon rose?? oh i could do a little weep, i love you guys 😭 ↳ flavy.barla we love you so so much y/n 💕
lilymhe i will hit him with my golf clubs ↳ y/nstagram i haven't even mentioned anyone? ↳ lilymhe we all know their name rhymes with bando borris ↳ y/nstagram wdym we all know? who else knows? ↳ flavy.barla ... me ↳ alexandrasaintmleux ^ ↳ francisca.c.gomes ^ ↳ lilynzeimer ^ ↳ heidiberger_ ^ ↳ carmenmmundt ^ ↳ kellypiquet ^ ↳ iamrebeccad ^ ↳ y/nstagram ok ok i get it damn
kellypiquet want me to ask max to rear end him with his race car? ↳ y/nstagram as if max would ever be behind lando ↳ kellypiquet 😳😳😳 ↳ y/nstagram i may l*ve him but i am also a realist ↳ y/nstagram ok no i do feel bad
y/nstagram uploaded to their story
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[caption 1: love of my life, apple of my eye, the thelma to my louise 💖 @/flavy.barla] [caption 2: damn stole my girl from right in front of me 😔 @/estebanocon @/flavy.barla]
seen by landonorris, flavy.barla and 67,394 others
flavy.barla mon ange (my angel), you know you're the only one for me 💕 ↳ y/nstagram tell that to your giant of a boyfriend :(
estebanocon i'm not a giant 😠 ↳ y/nstagram stop reading flavy's messages weirdo ↳ y/nstagram but on a real note, thank you for dinner, i really needed it ↳ estebanocon of course, i'm not sure what lando's done but we hate seeing you so sad ↳ y/nstagram who said it had anything to do with lando? ↳ estebanocon whenever me and flavy have an argument she pulls out the mitski lyrics, i know the signs ↳ y/nstagram that's different, you and flavy are dating ↳ estebanocon and you and lando aren't???? ↳ y/nstagram what? no? we're just friends ↳ estebanocon oh mon amie naïve (my naive friend) friends don't look at each other the way the two of you do
landonorris can we talk? seen
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anyone interested in a part 2?
2K notes · View notes
sincerelybubbles · 4 months
Text
it's a date || spencer reid x reader
part 2
warnings: cannon-typical violence/mentions of murder and kidnapping, slow burn, fluff!, early seasons spencer, not proof read
word count: 6.1k
You sigh and crack your knuckles, staring down at the pot simmering on the stove. You know that the sauce would be okay if you left it for a few minutes, did something else, but you remain standing, uselessly stirring it every few seconds. Truthfully, you’re bored. Your mind shifts from cooking to work tomorrow, itching to pull out your documents and scan through them one more time. But you know you shouldn’t, advise about work-life balance tugging at your attention. 
You’re debating if you should pick up a book and try to read, something light to take your mind off of the day, when a knock sounds from the front door. Your dog, Penny, a lovely golden retriever you rescued a few years ago, lets out a weak woof before slowly standing and trotting to the door. She’s old, more grey than golden, but she never fails to answer the door with you. 
You turn the stove off and move the pot off of the burner, wiping your hands as you walk, when another knock echoes through the hallway. It’s sharp, official, loud. The sound fills you with anxiety. You stand on your toes to look out of the peephole.
“Hello?” You ask through the door, not recognizing the men standing outside and seeing no package in sight. 
“Hello, Jason Gideon, FBI, could we have a word?” The older man says, voice stern but not unkind. 
You open the door without unlatching the chain, peering out through the crack. “FBI?”
Jason Gideon, the one who spoke, pulls out his badge first. The lankier man next to him follows in suit. Your eyes linger on him for a second longer than the other agent, taking in his toussled brown hair. You scan the badges for a second before shutting the door to undo the chain. 
“Sorry, you can’t be too careful, you know?”
“Oh, we know that all too well,” Gideon says good-naturedly, “it’s good to be cautious.”
He asks your name, you give it, and nods sharply, looking to his partner. “Well, like I said, I’m Jason Gideon with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI, and this is my partner Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“Well, come on in, Agent Gideon and Dr. Reid,” you say, waving them both in and shutting the door. 
“Just Gideon is fine.”
Dr. Reid sends you a tight lipped smile as he walks in, adjusting his shirt and otherwise avoiding your gaze. He seems nervous. 
“Would you two like something to drink while you tell me why you’re here? Coffee, tea, water?” You ask, twisting the dishcloth between your hands as you lead them inside.
“I wouldn’t say no to some coffee,” Gideon says. You nod and turn to Dr. Reid, who is staring at you with his mouth slightly agape. 
“Oh, yeah, coffee for me too, please.”
“Of course, have a seat,” you say, waving them to the small table in your kitchen and moving to prepare their drinks. Neither of them sit.
“How well do you know your neighbors?” Gideon asks as you start the coffee. 
You shrug. “As well as anyone does these days, I guess. I wave when I drive past them, smile when they’re out front at the same time. Why, has something happened? I saw the police cars earlier, on my way home from work, but I haven’t heard anything else.”
“Yes ma’am,” Dr. Reid says, even though he looks your age, maybe even a few years older. “Your neighbor across the street was murdered last night, Mrs. Furgison, and her eight-year-old son is missing. Did you hear anything?”
You fall still, facing away from the two officers. Numb, you shake your head, “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t home last night. I was watching my niece for my sister.” You turn around to face them, leaning back against the counter. “But there are cameras outside, I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?” “Yes,” Gideon confirms with a nod. “Would you be okay if we took a look at the last few weeks of footage if you have it?”
“You want to see if he’s been visiting before last night,” you mumble, nodding. “Yes, of course.”
“Do you work in law enforcement?” Dr. Reid asks, the question erupting from him like he couldn’t hold it back. “You’re shockingly calm and seem to know what we’re going to ask before we get to it.”
“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle, waving a hand in the air and turning to pull the pot of coffee out. “BAU, of course, you’d see right through me. I’m a victim liaison. I read through this process hundreds of times a week. Sugar?”
“No, thanks,” Gideon answers as Dr. Reid blurts out, “Yes, please.”
You set the mugs on the kitchen counter along with a container of sugar.
“Help yourself, I’ll grab my laptop to get those files for you.”
When you come back, laptop in tow, Gideon and Dr. Reid are having a hushed conversation, both holding their mugs of coffee. You round the corner slowly but loudly, aware that sometimes agents can be jumpy. Gideon smiles at you while Dr. Reid looks over sharply. 
It fits, given their ages and presumably how long each have been in the field. You try to send him a reassuring smile. He reciprocates but still looks obviously awkward, fixing his hair and taking a sip of coffee.
“Would you like me to put the files on a USB? Email them somewhere? Or just,” you motion with the computer, offering it over. 
“I can take it,” Dr. Reid offers, “send the files to Garcia.”
You let him, passing him the computer easily. With your job, the government is already elbows deep in that laptop, anyway; you have nothing to hide. 
You watch as Dr. Reid begins typing away on your computer, leaning over the table and resting his forearms on the edge. 
Both of the agents are dressed professionally: button-down shirts, slacks, dress shoes. Guns ready at the hip.
“You like to cook?” Gideon asks, nodding toward your forgotten pasta on the stove. 
“Yes and no,” you admit, chuckling and turning your attention to him. “It always tastes better than takeout but it’s hard to get the motivation. Are you hungry? Can I offer you anything else?”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary, but thank you.”
“Of course. I know how overworked you lot can be.” You cross your arms and lean back against your counter. “What about you? Do you cook?”
“Not as often as I should,” he admits, smiling sadly. “Victim liaison, you said?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You seem a little young.” “Could say the same about him.” You nod at Dr. Reid who doesn’t hear you, too focused on his work. “But I guess drive and pretty much no social life can get you anywhere,” you admit with a laugh. 
“Garcia should have the files in a minute,” Dr. Reid interrupts, looking up from your laptop.
“I’ll give her a call.”
He steps out with a nod to you, walking back into the front hallway of your small home and leaving you alone with the doctor. 
He opens his mouth to say something before his eyes focus over your shoulder and his attention is stolen. “Sorry,” he says, moving past you and into your living room, toward your bookshelf. “Is that a Russian copy of Crime and Punishment?” He asks, brushing his finger over the spine of the book. 
“Oh, yeah, it is.” You follow him, staring up at your own bookshelf like you’ve never seen it before. It’s crammed full of books. There are more filling your bedroom down the hall as well. “It’s a slow read, I have to use a lexicon a lot of the time, but I sort of like the work. Translating’s a hobby of mine, I guess. When I have time. Sorry, that might be weird.”
“No, it’s not weird at all! Not to me, at least. Are you using a Dictionary-based lexicon? Can I see it? I have one that I love. I haven’t read much Russian but I have one for Greek. They’re rarely used anymore, falling out of popularity with the creation of the internet where everything is readily available to just search up, but I find them fascinating and I’ve never seen one for Russian before.”
He talks enthusiastically with his hands. His eyes shine, the interest lighting up his face. You think, before you remember the reason why he’s there, that he’s actually quite handsome. You become slightly breathless at the realization. You don’t really notice people like this often. But, towering above you, buttoned shirt pushed up to show his forearms and a self-concious smile stretching across his face, you’re a little flustered.
You take a breath, remembering that your neighbor is dead and a little boy is missing, sending Dr. Reid a small smile and motioning behind you.
“It’s in my office if you want to go look at it. I prefer it to just typing out the stuff I don’t know — mostly because I don’t have a Russian keyboard — and it’s easier to learn when you have to research it.”
“I would actually love –”
“Reid,” Gideon interrupts, ending his call, “Garcia got the files, we have to go.”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“Thank you so much for your help,” Gideon says, walking toward you and offering his hand. “And for the coffee. So sorry to have interrupted your cooking.”
“Anytime detective,” you say, shaking his hand and smiling up at him, “always happy to help. I can give you my card if you need anything else?”
“That would be great, thank you.”
You rush to your bag to pull out one of your cards and hand it to Gideon before turning to offer Dr. Reid your hand. 
“It was nice to meet you, too, Dr. Reid.”
He takes your hand firmly. “Spencer’s fine,” he says, stumbling over his words slightly but still smiling. “Thank you for your help.”
“Anytime,” you repeat, letting them out and returning to your sad pasta. 
Your mind wonders, not to the murder or kidnapping, but to Spencer Reid. Wide brown eyes, tousled hair pushed out of his face, a sweet smile. Smart, too. Way too smart. 
You’re not exactly experienced when it comes to dating, you hadn’t lied to Gideon when you said you don’t make time for a social life, dating included, but you do know that an interest in a too-smart profiler might spell bad news. 
Still, as you portion out your meal, you can’t help but think that you’re feeling awfully motivated to return to working on Crime and Punishment. You don’t lie to yourself about the origins of this sudden spark of motivation, but you do rationalize it. What’s the harm in a fleeting crush, then? Especially if it gives you the push to finally finish one of the many projects hanging on your ever-growing list?
You suppose you might see them arround the office if they’re working in this jurisdiction, but then he’ll be gone and it’ll fade away. In the meantime, you make yourself a plate of food and settle down in your living room with the book and lexicon.
||||
“Well, that certainly poses an interesting problem,” you hear Cheif Saunders say as you walk into the police department the next morning, arms full of files ready for sorting. 
You round the corner to escape this attention but aren’t fast enough and he calls you over by name. Cringing, you turn on your heel and are faced, once again, with Gideon and Spencer. With them are two more men and two girls, all intimidating and confident. 
All FBI, if you had to wager a bet. 
“Morning,” you say, nodding to Gideon and Spencer respectively. “Nice to see you two again.”
“You’ve met?” The tall man next to Gideon asks, pointing the question to Spencer. He grins, white teeth overtaking his dark, handsome face. He reaches his hand out to shake yours, “Morgan, nice to meet you.”
You introduce yourself, explain your position, and receive introductions from JJ, Elle, and Hotchner as well. 
“Where did you meet our friends?” Chief Saunders asks, folding his hands in front of him and setting an accusatory glare on you. “Still preening for a new job?”
“No sir,” you say, uncomfortable. The chief is often cold with you, refusing to acknowledge your knowledge or work. When he found that you were looking to transfer stations to the one a district over, he’d still thrown a fit, though. You guess he can’t ignore how well your numbers reflect on him as easily as he deflects your accomplishments to your face. 
“We stopped by to get access to her cameras, she lives across the street from the Furgison’s,” Gideon explains, watchful eyes glancing between you and the chief. 
“They proved to be surprisingly useful,” Spencer interrupts. “We now know the make, model, and color of the unsubs car as well as his general height. Garcia is still trying to make out plates, but we are able to confirm at least pieces of our profile with the information.”
“You live across the street?” The chief asks, still staring at you. You shift your weight, holding the files closer to your chest. 
“Yes, sir. In a duplex.”
“Then, fellas, I’ve found the solution to our problem. You’ll set up with our little liaison, then.”
“Sorry?” You ask, startled. 
“We have reason to believe that the unsub is returning to the crime scenes after the police have left the area and allowed the family to return. But, if we know our guy, and we think we do,” Elle says, begrudingly, “he’s smart. He’s going to notice if we’re camped out in a car. And, in a residential street, it’s much harder to hide in a building.”
“So, you’ll have the opportunity to make yourself useful,” Chief Saunders chuckles, laying a heavy hand on your shoulder and shaking you.
“Only if you’re comfortable,” Gideon adds, glancing at you with a patient expression. 
“Yes, it would be a complete invasion of your privacy, agents would be there twenty-four-seven monitoring. We would only stay in the front areas of the house, of course, but you needn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. There are always other ways.” Agent Hotchner fixes you with a level look, voice sincere. 
“Oh, she’s comfortable, aren’t ya?” The chief says, shaking you again with a wide smile. 
“Yes, of course,” you say, nodding at the others. You mean it, you’ll do whatever you can to help out, you just wish you could’ve made the choice yourself.
“This way, you don’t have to worry about confidentiality, either. Little Miss has full access to ongoing investigations, she’ll be there for all of the briefings and such.”
You nod, discretely moving a step back so his hand falls from your shoulder. 
“Yes, I’m meant to be kept up to date with all ongoing, violent investigations where and if possible to act as a bridge between law enforcement and victims and families of victims. Especially those with children involved — I should have mentioned we would cross paths again last night, I just wasn’t thinking.”
“Yes, we’ve worked with our fair share of liaisons,” Gideon chuckles, looking over his shoulder at JJ who gives him a small smile. 
“Then it’s all set. You boys let me know when you have your profile ready.” Elle watches him walk off with a hard stare, obviously just as rubbed wrong by him as you are. 
“Lovely man, isn’t he?” You joke, trying to make the situation lighthearted. 
“We’ve interacted before. Our headquarters isn’t actually far from here, just a twenty-minute drive, we’re up in Quantico. He doesn’t get any better with time, though.” Agent Hotchner shakes his head, turning to grab a file off of the desk behind him. 
“Well, he always forgets to offer his office space to visitors so I usually keep mine available. It’s quieter and there’s a whiteboard, follow me.”
||||
Since you started renting the small duplex by yourself, you’ve never felt awkward in your own home. Now, though, you feel odd taking up your own space. 
The majority of the Quantico team is set up in your front room with laptops, cameras, and microphones. 
“We don’t know exactly how long he usually takes to come back to scenes, only that it typically happens within the week,” Elle explains to you apologetically. 
“No problem — comes with the job, no?” You say, smiling and trying to brush it off. Elle laughs gently, nose wrinkling as she shakes her head. 
“No, not really. I wouldn’t be thrilled if these boys set up shop in my house, you’re taking this with much more grace than I would.”
You shrug, crossing your arms and tilting your head from side to side. “I won’t act like it’s normal, it is pretty weird having you guys here, but if it helps you catch this guy, why would I say no? Better me than some random civilian.” You hesitate, scrunching up your nose, “Better now than waiting for him to kill someone else.”
“Much more compassionate than I am,” Elle jokes, shaking her head and walking away as Gideon calls her name. 
The main problem, you think, is that the duplex isn’t very big. The part of the team that’ll be staying with you — Spencer, Gideon, Elle, and Morgan — have all settled in. They won’t come and go, their car is firmly parked in your garage, and they’ll keep a low profile to prevent the unsub from noticing their presence. You’re meant to come and go as normal to keep suspicion low in case he’s cased the entire neighborhood. But, with only two bedrooms, a baths, and a small office, you’re feeling slightly cramped. Whenever you turn, you feel like you’re coming toe-to-toe with someone. It’s awkward, considering you’re very used to living alone. 
Still, you’re determined to be a good host, so you set to preparing lunch for everyone. They’d insisted that you didn’t need to, but you really don’t know what else to do. You’d been given the day to help them all settle in and provide assistance wherever possible, but there isn’t much to do other than wait. 
You’re pulling out the things for sandwiches when Spencer walks in. 
“Hey, do you have an extra ethernet cable? Garcia thinks that a direct line would be better,” he asks. 
“Maybe, you’re free to check in the office if you want. If you need, you can always pull the one from my desktop,” you say, shutting the fridge and trying to balance everything in your arms in one trip.
“What’re you doing?” Spencer asks, reaching forward to grab the ham and mayo from the top of your stack. 
“Making sandwiches!”
“You really don’t have to. We can have food ordered, it’s okay.”
“I wanna make myself useful, I feel weird just standing around watching you guys work,” you say, dumping the materials on the counter. “I hope you guys like ham or turkey, it’s all I have.”
“You are being useful, though. You’ve let us set up in your home, how much more useful can you be?”
“I could provide food as well,” you say, sending him a smile. “Ham or turkey?”
Spencer looks exasperated, setting the ham and mayo down and shaking his head. Nervously, he uses both of his hands to push his hair back. “Either. Either is fine, thank you.”
You start to prepare the sandwiches, Spencer watching and still looking like he wants to say something. 
“Hey, Reid, I found one, we’re all set,” Morgan says, rounding the corner and waving the white chord in the air. “Oh, what’re you making?” He asks, stepping closer and leaning over your shoulder. 
“Sandwiches. I was asking Spence if you guys like ham and turkey but he wasn’t being helpful.”
“Well, Spence can be like that,” Morgan says, throwing Spencer a smirk over his shoulder. “But we’d appreciate anything.” “I was trying to tell her,” Spencer interrupts, “that it’s entirely unnecessary for her to make us lunch. She’s already done enough for us letting us set up here. The effort is appreciated, of course, obviously, you just shouldn’t have to. Because we’re already intruding.” He trails off as Morgan sends him a look, raising his eyebrow. 
“Well, I, for one, appreciate the offer,” Morgan says, leaning on the counter and smiling down at you. You laugh at him. 
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it! I do,” he says, turning to you and holding one of his hands up in a placating way, “I just don’t think, it’s very kind of course, I just –”
You cut him off, taking pity, “He’s fucking with you. Relax.”
||||
“I just can’t believe that you’re actually processing any of what you’re reading at that speed!” You say, throwing your arms up. 
“I actually am. Speed reading, when done right, doesn’t take away from comprehension at all. Plus, with my eidetic memory, I can always think back and process later if I need to,” Spencer explains. 
“Fine, you’re understanding what you’re reading in a general sense, but where’s the enjoyment in it? How can you possibly understand all the intricacies of the writing, what the author is doing, and appreciate the characters and their growth if you don’t take your time with it?” “I tend to focus my reading moreso on informational writing, so that’s not often a problem. And when I do read something fictional or with more nuance, I’m never lacking in any way when it comes to my understanding of the content, even when speed reading.”
“So you’re not actually taking the time to have fun reading is what I’m hearing.”
“Reading is inherently fun when you’re learning something, though,” he says, lips quirked in a slight smirk and a line forming between his eyebrows as he looks down at you. The look is so disarming that you find yourself deflating a little. 
You’re in your living room, a few books scattered on the coffee table between you two, debating the merits of each one. 
“I dunno,” you say, argument leaving you as you become distracted. 
“Just say I’m right! You know I am,” Spencer says with a chuckle, shaking his head and leaning toward you slightly, hands spread. 
You thought he was cute when he was shy, bumbling in your house yesterday, but after a few hours to warm up to each other, you can’t deny you really like him. 
The only thing that completely blocks the disappointment that they’ll all soon be leaving is that their UnSub will be caught when they have to leave. Your community and neighborhood will be better off for it. 
“No, I still think you’re wrong. Sure, you understand what you’re reading but I just don’t buy that you could possibly enjoy it in the same way that I am!” You’re trying your damndest to regain your confidence, shaking your head side-to-side with a wide smile to erase the vision of his own smirk, his hands, his rolled up sleeves from your mind. “I mean, nothing beats curling up with a book and taking your time with it.” “Well,” Spencer interrupts, lifting a finger, “how can you say if you’ve never tried my way?”
“Speed reading? I’ve done it, actually.” You shrug at his hesitating look, suddenly feeling vulnerable under the weight of his eyes. 
“Really? What method? What was your fastest time? What —” Morgan cuts off his questioning by walking in and calling for him. 
“Gideon wants you to take a look at something.” “Ah. Breaks over.” Spencer stands from where he was sitting on your armchair, brushing his hands off on his pants. He points at you while he walks away, “We’re not finished, though!”
“Oh?” Morgan asks when he’s gone, raising his eyebrows at you. “Unfinished business?” You scoff, moving to pick up the books you pulled out to talk to Spencer about. 
You like Morgan. He’s an easy one to like and he feels like the bigger brother you don’t have with his easy smiles. The chaos in your house hasn’t been easy, you appreciate his consistent presence to lighten the atmosphere. 
You’ve actually come to like all of them. Elle with her stories, Gideon with his dry smiles, and Spencer. Really, you just like Spencer. You’re an adult, you’re not ashamed to admit it. Just, only to yourself, lest you mess something up and make him uncomfortable. 
“You know, I can’t really say I haven’t seen him this excited before because the kid gets excited about everything but,” Morgan shrugs, pushing himself off of the wall he’s been leaning on and coming to sit next to you, “you do seem to get along well.”
“Oh, yeah, Spencer’s nice,” you say, standing to put the books away. 
“Nice,” Morgan muses, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms. 
“He is! You all are.” You laugh when Morgan raises his eyebrows again. “I’m being serious, I would kill to work on a team like yours. You all actually work together.”
“We have to.”
“It certainly works out better when you do.”
“Yeah, your boss is a real dick. He usually walk all over you like that?” You wrinkle your nose at him as you sit down, pulling your legs under you. “More or less I guess. My personal opinion is that he’d like more men on the team and … no women,” you joke, giving him a what can you do? look, smiling sadly. 
“And you tried to transfer?”
“Stop profiling me,” you say, eyes narrowing. Morgan smiles, all teeth.
“Not profiling, just remembering him saying something like that when we talked at the station.”
“Oh,” you say, slouching back. “That’s considerably less impressive.” “Ouch.”
“Yeah, yeah, I wound you. But I did look into transferring a while back. I’ve been trying to move up for a while and keep getting blocked. But, no surprise, I got blocked again.” You raise an imaginary glass, cheers-ing with the air, “Go government!”
“That’s fucked,” Morgan says, letting out a low whistle. “So you don’t want to stay a victims liasion?”
“No, I do. But it’s not my only job right now. It’s a little complicated, but our office is too small to have a head liaison. So I really just run around filling gaps wherever I can until I’m needed to do my actual job. I’d love to do just liaison work, I really like working with the public. Feels like I’m actually helping people, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” “Hey,” you say suddenly, not wanting to keep the mood somber (or ignore the FBI agent in your house with your silly woes while a murder investigation is underway), “you want some tea? Coffee?”
“Sure doll, I’ll take some coffee,” Morgan says, a confused smile taking over his face, “if you’re offering.”
||||
“It’s actually pretty interesting,” Spencer is saying, flipping through files and leaning over to show Elle something. 
“Oh, I bet. Nothing better than vicious murder,” you say, dry, rolling a pen between your fingers. 
“I mean the process behind deciphering their reasoning,” Spencer says, shrugging. 
“I just don’t know how you look past it to see anything other than the violence,” you say, shuddering. 
He and Elle have taken the night shift and are giving you a rundown on profiling. You’ve worked with profilers before, but they’re small-town cops, more interested in closing cases than being scientific, or, at times, even correct. 
“How do you look past a crying mother after her daughter has been murdered to get the information you need?” Elle asks. “I’ve worked with hundreds of victims, I think I’m pretty good at it, but your records show that you’re one of the best.”
You heat at the praise, shrugging your shoulders. “I wouldn’t say I look past them. I actually try to get into their shoes to figure out what I can say to get through to them.”
“Often the victims families know more than they think. Every bit of information they can give us or the police about the victim only lead us closer to the unsub. We often rely on your job to get important information out of victims and families that we wouldn’t otherwise have. It requires tact, empathy, and extreme emotional control,” Spencer explains, setting the file down and brushing his hair back. 
“Well, thank you?”
“I think he’s trying to say what we do is similar,” Elle explains, “it’s just the opposite side of it.”
“I’m still not following — but I’m definitely not built to be a profiler, that’s for sure.”
“But you could be. You profile in your own way. We look at the bad guys, the killing patterns, stuff like that,” Spencer leans forward, enthusiastic. “You just profile less intense people. Gather information from them, figure out what they need. Get in their shoes, to use your words. You use their actions, small phrases, and what you can gather from their homes to approach them the best way, no?”
“Looking at their clothes and body language and stuff, sure.”
“We do exactly that with crime scenes. Recognize patterns. Just like you can’t imagine seeing past the violence, some of us can’t imaigne having to see past the emotion of someone dealing with fresh loss.” Elle smiles. “You’d probably make a really good profiler. You’re just a better victims advocate.”
You consider that, weighing their words. “Sure, maybe,” you admit. “I still think it’s kinda like magic, though. Your knowledge, your intuition, your teamwork. It’s cool.”
“Thank you,” Elle says kindly. 
Spencer jumps back into his explanation of the types of murder-kidnappers, musing with Elle again about their profile. Their ability to constantly return to the same evidence over and over without any hesitation is still amazing to you. Despite what Elle said, you’re sure you’d get bored. 
You’re even more sure that it would stick to you in a way that working with the victims never did. You visit crime scenes, sure, but you never do everything in your power to commit every bit of them to memory. 
As they talk, you move toward the window and move the curtains over slightly. It’s the middle of the night, the second the team has spent in your home, and you’re curious how much longer this unsub will take to be caught. 
You’ve done your best to keep to your usual schedule and luckily it’s not unusual for you to be up late. The movement behind the curtains won’t be suspicious, so you stand and peek out curiously at the home across the street. 
Penny sighs from her bed in the living room, snoring softly. She’s taken a liking to your guests who are always willing to give her attention and scraps of food. 
The Furgison house bigger than yours, a family home with a large backyard. It’s a faded blue, lightened by the sun, with a white door. Theres a dim porch light that’s been left on, throwing yellow shaddows across the street. 
You swear you see a curtain move in the window and your entire body freezes, breath stolen from your lungs. 
“Hey guys?” You say, dead quiet, as you see the curtains flutter again. Small, nearly inperceptable movement. Greys and blacks angainst more greys and blacks. 
“Yeah?” Elle asks, still reading over the file with Spencer. 
“You’re sure that nobodys gone in tonight?”
“Certain,” Elle says, moving quickly to stand next to you. “Why?”
“Curtains moved,” you say, nodding toward the house. 
“Maybe the AC was left on?” Elle suggests and you shake your head. 
“No, we would’ve noticed it before now. They have no animals, the house should be empty.”
Your heart is racing as Spencer joins you at the window. 
“You sure you saw it move?” He asks, moving to stand behind you, just out of sight at the window, a hand pressed to your back. Gentle pressure, just his fingertips, that makes you siffen even more. He moves his hand, whispering an apology. 
You wish he hadn’t. 
Your mind spins, distracted for a moment, shaking your head again. 
“Yes, I’m certain.”
“Go get Morgan and Gideon,” Spencer tells you, sharing a look with Elle. 
||||
You follow the team out, despite their insistence that you don’t have to, holding your own handgun out and following the light Morgan casts. 
You live in a relatively sleepy neighborhood. Shared duplexes and little houses line the streets, most with little flowerbeds out front. The Furgison house is no exception: it’s a little blue house with rose bushes out front. It backs the small patch of wood that runs along the length of the highway. 
Heart racing and head light from adrenaline, you stay out front to watch for any movement inside while Morgan and Hotch creep around one side of the house, Spencer and Elle take the other side. 
“Back here,” you faintly hear Morgan say through your earpiece. “The cellar door is open. It was deadlocked last time.”
You sitffen, readjusting your grip on your gun. 
“Wasn’t it cleared, though, when we were here last?” Elle asks. 
“Yeah, but he could’ve snuck in through the woods — there’s no telling.”
“Didn’t we position police cars on the highway?” Elle again. You can imagine them all standing behind the house, guns drawn. It’s intersting to hear them communicate so efficiently, voices low. 
“We’ll worry about it later. Morgan, you take the lead, I’ll take the rear, Elle stay out here.”
For a long few seconds, you hear Morgan, Spencer, and Hotch begin to clear the basement, until you’re jolted out of the repetitive “clear!”s by Hotch yelling, “FBI, put your hands up!”
The next few minutes turn into a whirlwind as police cars arrive and Morgan drags the UnSub out of the house by his handcuffed arms. 
The Furgison boy comes out next, disheveled and passed to the paramedics in the back of an ambulance. Once you see Hotch, Spencer, and Elle are okay as well, you jump into action, going to sit with the boy and comfort him. Morgan is there, too, crouched down to talk to the kid. 
“You’re all good now,” he’s saying, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. “And my friend here is going to make sure that you see your dad as soon as possible.” Morgan gestures to you and you nod at the little boy. 
The sight of him makes your chest ache: he’s scrawny with wide brown eyes and a mop of curls on the top of his head. 
“Agent Morgan is right, your dad is going to meet us at the hospital.”
The boy doesn’t say anything, shaking under his emergency blanket. 
“I’ll ride with you in the ambulance, too, and that’ll be fun, right?” You ask, jumping up to sit next to him. Slowly and sluggish the boy rests his head on your shoulder, still shivering. You wrap an arm around him before mouthing ‘I’ve got him’ to Morgan. He gives you a small sile, waves at the boy, and goes to join his team. 
After being checked over again by the paramedics, the boy falls asleep quickly in the hospital, holding his dads hand. You’re leaving the room, shutting the door with a soft click, when you see Spencer sitting in the hallway. 
“How is he?” Spencer asks, standing up at the sight of you. 
“He’s okay, some minor bruises and scrapes, dehydrated but on an IV. They’re just happy to be back together.”
“That’s good,” Spencer says, falling quiet and looking away. 
“And, hey, you guys caught the bad guy — now you all get to go home!”
“Yeah,” Spencer says, turning to look at you again, chuckling slightly without any heart behind it. 
“Are you not excited?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 
“It’s always nice coming back home after a trip, even one as close to home as this one is. But it’s a little bittersweet.”
“How so?”
You practically see Spencer gathering his courage, straightening his shoulders and sending you a small but genuine smile. 
“Well, we have some unfinished business, remember? And you never showed me your lexicon.”
“Well,” you say, smiling, “you’ll just have to keep in touch, then. Maybe we can get dinner?”
“Yeah. Yes, of course. Dinner.” Spencer is fully grinning now, eyes squinting with the force of it. You can’t help but mirror him, laughing a little. “Well, I do have a car to catch. I just wanted to check on him and say goodbye.”
“Well, goodbye for now Dr. Reid.”
“Goodbye,” he says, smiling at you for a second longer before turning to walk to the exit. He makes it to the doors before he hesitates, one hand on the handle. He stands there, still, for a moment before turning around and asking, “Dinner, like a date, right?”
Giddy, your smile only widens as you nod. “I would really like that, if you’re asking, yeah.”
“I’m asking.”
“Okay, then it’s a date.”
i wanted more to happen here but then i got this far and still had so much more i could write about these two aahhh
lmk if u want a pt 2 bc i kind of have ideas :) tysm for reading!!
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sun-kissy · 1 month
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chocolate-coated hearts | r.l.
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part 1 | part 2 | part 3
barista!remus x shy!reader
summary: you go to a new cafe to order donuts for your friend, immediately enamoured with the barista
tw: nothing? reader takes literature as a major, also kind of has social anxiety
a/n: might make this a series! i’ve got a few ideas <3
An anxious sigh escapes you as you stand idly outside the cafe, peering inside through the mosaicked windows. It was jam-packed, people pushing past each other and snake-like queues forming throughout the space. You wriggle your phone out of your coat pocket and glance at the message that your friend, Madison, had sent in a half hour ago.
hey gorgeous!! mind picking up a few donuts for me at Beanie’s before you come over? a few of the pbj ones, and some chocolate ones too. thanks xx
She was expecting, and you went by whenever you could to help her out after her asshole of a boyfriend left.
Normally, you wouldn’t bother. You hated crowded places, and Beanie’s was the definition of crowded – an old-style cafe which had blown up overnight because of its scrumptious donuts and vintage aesthetic. But who were you to deny the cravings of the woman bearing your goddaughter?
You take a deep breath and push the creaky wooden door open, cringing at how the bell rang and signalled the whole cafe to your presence. But no one so much as looked up, busy trying to buy or sell food, or find a table.
You push your way through the sea of people, joining the queue in front of the counter. It was long, you noted, and would probably take another fifteen minutes or so until it was your turn to place an order. You fish out your crumpled book from your bag and turn it to the page you had stopped on yesterday. It was the second classic of the term – Pride and Prejudice. Taking literature as a major meant you spent more time reading than anything else, but you weren’t complaining.
As you read, you scribbled down plot points to take note of and quotes which meant something worth writing about. Your eyes stayed glued to the page, trying to work out hidden meanings and flowery language. Once you were back home, you’d have to compile all your analysis onto that worksheet Professor Ragnarsson had given out, write the 10-page long review, and then –
“Hey! Shut the damn book and order, will you?”
Your heart jumps in your chest at the sudden harsh tone. You close your book and whip your head around to see a middle-aged man glaring at you before peering down at his watch. “There’s a long queue, and we don’t have all day.”
The heat rushes to your cheeks as you open your mouth to apologise – but before you can say anything, you hear an oddly soothing voice from behind you. “Hey, don’t be a jerk. She didn’t know the counter was open.”
You glance back towards the counter, and you swear your heart stopped beating for a second. Angelic was an understatement to describe the man standing in front of you, tall and lanky and absolutely fucking beautiful.
His chestnut brown hair perfectly framed his pale face, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he glanced at the rude customer behind you. There were pinkish scars tracing from above his eyebrows to right below his lips, but they looked golden under the orange light – he looked like some kind of heavenly being.
When his eyes dart back to you, his expression instantly softened, lips tilting upwards in a smile. You thought you would melt into a puddle right there and then just by gazing into his warm, honeyed eyes. “Hi, gorgeous. What can I get you?”
You blink, your mouth involuntarily falling open slightly. Gorgeous? Was he talking to you? Maybe he was referring to the man behind you.
His smile widens, and that does absolutely nothing to calm the feeling of your heart bouncing around in your stomach. “It’s okay if you can’t choose just yet, I know the number of options can be…” he chuckles, “overwhelming. Take all the time you need to decide.”
Oh my god, you thought. His laugh sounded musical, like the tender feeling of being enveloped in a warm embrace. You’d put it on a record player and play it on loop for hours if you could.
“Hurry the fuck up –”
“One more word from you and you won’t be getting your coffee today, buddy,” the godly-looking barista snapped in a slightly louder tone at the man behind you, face contorted in irritation.
You hear silent cursing behind you, a twinge of embarrassment turning you red. You quickly glance back up. “Sorry, hi, hello. I’ll um… I…” the words were on the tip of your tongue, but seemed to dissolve when he glanced at you with those agonisingly pretty eyes and kind smile.
Snap out of it, you internally curse as you open your mouth again. “I’ll get three peanut butter-jelly donuts, and four chocolate donuts.”
“Okay. Which chocolate ones?” he asks, tapping his tongs against the display dome with stacks of donuts. There really were a lot of options – chocolate sprinkles, belgian chocolate, chocolate glazed, double chocolate – your mind seemed to freeze up for a second. Which one would Madison want?
You quickly look behind you, seeing the man’s face twisted up in what looked like rage. It seemed to be taking him all his willpower not to lash out at you, and the customers behind him didn’t look much far off.
You turn back to the counter, eyes wide with panic as you feel the blood rush to your head. You had never been good at this; thinking and choosing on the spot. That’s why Subway was always a no-go for you, that’s why Madison had specifically told you what to get her – just that she hadn’t been specific enough. “I… I’m not sure. I think, um…”
“Hey, take it easy,” you look back up to see Remus giving you a reassuring smile, a slight hint of concern on his face. Your despair must have been embarrassingly evident, then. “It’s alright if you can’t choose. Do you want me to pick for you?”
You ought to have been humiliated, the way you immediately nodded and gave in to his offer. But he just gave you an easy smile and nodded, picking up one of each type and placing them in the box.
“Thank you,” you mumble sheepishly as you move to the payment counter, fishing in your bag for a wad of notes.
“Of course,” he grins, and it was so bright you thought it could probably light up the whole cafe. “That’ll be $15.90.”
As he waits for you to pay, he takes a quick look down and begins to brush crumbs off his apron. You look up at the wrong moment, eyes immediately fixing on the curves of his biceps visible through his T-shirt, and his slender fingers.
He glances back up at you, catching a glimpse of your flustered look and instantly smirking. You look away abashedly, counting the money and handing it to him.
The brush of your fingers against his calloused palm sent a jolting shock through you as you quickly pull back, not missing the way his smile widened as he cashed the money into the register.
“Thanks for visiting, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.”
You don’t reply, afraid you’d crumble into a blushing, gooey mess. Flashing him a brief, nervous smile, you pick up the box of donuts before turning around and heading straight for the exit. Sweetheart.
You huff as you open the door and step outside, pulling out your phone to complain to Madison all about the stupidly handsome barista at her favourite cafe. God, he really knew what he was doing.
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