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#it feels like we are returning to our roots
lethesbeastie · 4 months
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wait so why is Appalachian folklore important to your character? are they really involved with storytelling are there appalachian monsters you want to involve or something else?
AUTISM ACTIVATION 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO
Okay so basically, the entire campaign takes place within the Appalachian region, specifically a small town in West Virginia. This entire region has an incredibly complex history that is often overlooked by outsiders who set stories there. I'm a huge believer in doing research for storytelling, especially when it comes to regions/places/cultures/people that you're not familiar with. Appalachia in particular has often been the victim of what one author referred to as "cultural strip mining," where interesting aspects of the culture are isolated by outsiders who then market them without the cultural context.
When I started crafting Chorus' character, I wasn't even aware that the region they hailed from was considered part of Appalachia. It wasn't until I started doing more research for their backstory that I began to recognize the incredible cultural context they hailed from, and decided that I wanted to make that cultural heritage a more central part of their character. Storytelling and music are already central elements to Appalachian culture, so I started doing research into local folklore, folk magic, and folk music in order to give myself a better understanding of what it would've really been like to be a young queer kid growing up in such an area.
Chorus comes from a long line of Appalachian musicians and rootworkers (one of many terms for those who practice folk magic traditions of the region), and this is something that brings them both pride and shame. Pride because it offers them concrete proof of their own history. Shame because the descendants of their childhood heroes disowned their mother and want nothing to do with them. They grew up learning the oral traditions of their mother's family and the region at large, and were an apprentice to the local midwife in their hometown before they fled. Their whole life has been shaped by the culture that raised them, and it was very important for me to portray that cultural with as much accuracy and respect as I could.
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c4rr10n · 1 year
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Ummmm so it was my roommate’s birthday yesterday and I met his friends dad. Apparently this dad is a director of our local lgbtq registry foundation and he writes grants for people and I’m like…. Oh my god? Firstly, just plainly - that’s incredibly cool. Secondly!!! Between the death doula trying to establish a green burial location and my friend working for the city and this director as peers or even??? Friends??? Maybe??? (That would be amazing) I am beginning to feel like not only could I really ACTUALLY make something happen with this trans burial rights protection deal, but idk… I just really feel like things are coming together and I’m really excited. Even if things don’t go exactly as planned I feel like I’m being handed the tools to make something amazing. I feel like something is going to happen
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reidmotif · 1 month
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For the Love of Lace
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Summary: Reader decides she doesn't want to pine for her best friend, Spencer, anymore, but still needs his help deciding what lingerie to wear for her upcoming date.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: breast and nipple play, fingering (r!receiving), lingerie talk, unprotected penetrative sex, no implied breast size, couch sex, best friends to lovers, possessive Spencer
Word Count: 3.7k
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Pining for your best friend definitely has its lows. There’s a certain sense of pathetic-ness that comes about when your friend is simply speaking, and your mind is occupied with the yearning to bridge the gap of distance between you two, and kiss them senseless. I think perhaps the biggest low that I’d hit, however, in the two years I’d been pining for Spencer Reid was the sexual frustration that came with being unable to see myself with anyone else. 
I’d never meant for it to play out like this. I thought it was an innocent crush, a byproduct of all the time we’d managed to spend with each other divulging into our personal lives and sharing the ordinary comings of the day together. However, there came a point where I looked at him and could see my future laid out so perfectly with him. A future of love, and laughter, and God, so much sex.  And no matter what I’d tried, the thought was too good to let go. 
It didn’t help that not only was he oblivious, he clearly didn’t return my affections. There were no signs of longing that I could deduce from his actions, and I’d decided to be reasonable about this. His actions were always remnant of a good friend, but a lover? No. There were no longing stares. No stolen brushes of fingers, or hushed whispers. It seemed that anything romantic about our relationship only emanated from my fantasies of what I wish we could be. 
And so here I was, unable to get past the mental block of wanting anyone as much, and it’d resulting in a long, exasperating two-year stint of celibacy. And Jesus, did it show. The tiniest thing Spencer did would set me off in a frenzy, and it left me feeling nearly perverted at a certain point. There’d been a day that he ran his finger down a page, attempting to locate a passage to display to me and all I could think about was how badly I wanted that finger in me. My mouth. Me. Anything. And then I realized I was lusting over my best friend’s hand, and considered the possibility of this being a serious problem on my end. 
My only block to getting laid was my own self.  And I certainly didn’t relish in the debauchery I’d clearly stooped low enough to indulge in, and so it was decided. This Valentine’s Day? I wasn’t going to watch rom-coms and wonder if Spencer and I could ever have a happy ending like them.
 I was going to man up, and go on a date. Easier said than done. 
I’d found the date, that bit was easy enough. Trying to find someone to hook-up with on Valentine’s Day is like trying to find sand on a beach. Plentiful and simple. 
What wasn’t easy? Feeling ready for it. I hadn’t been like that with anyone for nearly two years, and found myself worrying that my sexual skills had deteriorated with lack of practice, even though the thought was rooted in some ridiculous notions about myself. I knew that logically the sex would be fine, and hopefully, exactly what I needed to get over Spencer, but still. I wanted to ensure the best possible experience. 
I found myself going through the motions of date preparation. A manicure and pedicure. A facial. I even bought a fancier perfume to wear the night of. And of course, a trip to procure some new lingerie for the night. 
I’d always been indecisive, and with the choices presented in the shop, I found myself overwhelmed. I’d decided and picked up 3 possible pieces, and instead of determining between them whilst buying, I bought all of them, with the intention that I’d be able to make a choice in the comfort of my own home. 
Except now, it’d been a week, my date was tomorrow, and I still couldn’t figure out what would work for me. All three were equally as appealing, but which one was the best? The question haunted me, and continued to  haunt me as Spencer and I hung out. Despite my date tomorrow, I’d promised to keep up our tradition of binging episodes of Star Trek on Friday night together, except my head was clearly elsewhere, which he quickly noticed. 
Damn profiler best friend. 
“Alright, what’s up with you?” Spencer asks, reaching for the remote and pausing on some random frame of Spock’s face, the show taking less precedence than my lack of attention. 
I sigh apologetically, quirking my mouth to the side. “I’m sorry, Spence.” I say, taking a deep breath. “Just a lot on my mind.” 
Spencer tilts his head, his expression a little more worried. “Something important?” 
I shake my head quickly, not wanting to disclose the reasoning for my distraction tonight. Especially to him, considering my date tonight had the sole purpose of me getting over the man currently sat to my right. 
“No, no.” I say, softly. “Just.. stuff.” I voiced, quickly.
“Stuff?” Spencer inquires. 
“Stuff.” I affirm. 
Now it’s his turn to sigh, making a slight groaning noise whilst he did so. “Come on. I’ve known you for years. I know there’s something on your mind, and it’s clearly distracting you, so.. Please? Tell me?” He asks, giving me those eyes. A look that would make anyone weak in the knees. 
I find myself hesitating, and bite my lip, and in the end, it’s the way he’s looking at me that does me in. I opt to stay vague, but give him a bit more insight into my wandering thoughts. 
“My date tomorrow? I don’t know what to wear.” I say, shrugging. “It’s not very important, but I want to make it work, you know?” I continue. 
“Why don’t you just show me your dress then?” Spencer inquires. “I’m not a fashion expert, but it’s not like I’m unable to have taste.” 
I laugh a little self consciously, shaking my head quickly. “Oh no, no. It’s not a dress. It’s okay, Spencer. I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.” 
“Shoes? C’mon! I’m your best friend. I’d do anything for you.” He protests, coming closer to me now. 
“Not shoes.” I say, still shaking my head. “And no! I mean, seriously. There are some things you can’t do for me, and it’s fine. I’m fine.” 
“Jewelry? Hair? Makeup?” He implores continuously. “I’m all ears.” 
I realize there’s no way in hell he’s ever going to let this go, so I blurt out with little thought, “It’s lingerie!” 
He goes a bit quiet in thought, and then raises an eyebrow. “And that poses a problem?” He asks, softly. 
I blink a little. Yes. Of course that’s  a problem. I love you so much that it makes me feel weak, and I can’t be even more vulnerable in front of you. Not like that. 
But instead I shrug, running my hands through my hair. 
“I just.. Wouldn’t that be weird?” I say, hesitantly. 
“Not really.” Spencer replies, nonchalantly. “You’re my best friend. And I want to help you in any way I can. Nakedness doesn’t really bother me, and if it doesn’t bother you, I’d love to help you decide.” 
“Spencer..” I mumbled, still incredibly hesitant. 
“I’m your best friend!” Spencer articulates. “And logically, I can provide you with insight that only another guy could give.” He points out. “In a purely platonic, and logical sense.” 
I had to give him credit for that. It’s true. Spencer did have insight that none of my friends could provide, and I’d always entrusted him in helping me make decisions for myself and my life. And honestly, it was starting to get suspicious with how much I’d been objecting to this. The man had helped me decide bikinis, clubbing dresses- this couldn’t be any more different, could it? 
“Okay. Okay. Fine.” I give him a resigned nod, getting off the couch. “Alright. Wait here.”
He plants himself more firmly on the couch, his eyes trained on where I’d disappeared into my room, rummaging through the shopping bag until I’d found the first lingerie piece. 
It was a simple black lace bra and matching panties. The bottoms were a bit cheekier than a normal pair of underwear, and my legs were on display in full. My hair framed my pushed-up breasts, and I looked at myself in the mirror, slightly self-conscious at the fact that I was about to present myself this way to Spencer. 
How did I get into this mess? 
I slowly twist the doorknob, calling out to him. “Spencer! I’m coming out with the first one.” 
“I’m here.” is his reply, and I know he’s waiting, and so I slowly push open the door and come out in the light, a little more in his view. I give a half-hearted 360 degree turn, and look at him. 
“So?” I ask, my eyes finally meeting his, but the sight I’m met with is a lot different than the one I’m expecting. He’s slightly red in the face, his hands fidgeting in his lap- quite different from the more composed version I’d seen of him. 
“Is there something wrong?” I ask, quickly, feeling even more vulnerable as I stood there, half naked in front of a blushing man. 
“No, no!” He sputters. “I’m sorry. This is normal.” He gulps a bit and gives me a quick once over. “Sorry, I’ll be normal.” He clears his throat again and nods more definitively. “This one is nice. It’s simple.” He replies, as diplomatically as I’ve heard him. “Black works well with your skin and hair, and I feel like it brings out your eyes.” 
I nod, biting my lip. “Anything I could do to make it.. more than nice?” I queried. 
He narrows his eyes in thought.  “It’s already really, really nice, but I feel like stockings, or even a garter would even the attention from your breasts, more to your legs- which already look really nice, by the way.” 
It's my turn to blush and I nod quickly. “Stockings, got it.” I say. I blow out a breath of air. “One down, two to go.” I say, absentmindedly. 
“Better go back and try the other two, then.” Spencer says, with a smile. 
I attempt to return his smile and disappear back into my room, putting on the next piece. It was red, and a bit more showy than my previous piece. It was a criss-cross, cut-out lingerie. Lines of maroon fabric danced around my skin in a way that exposed the curve of my breasts, and connected to a simple, red thong. I walked out quicker than last time, a little less nervous now that the initial nervousness of appearing naked in front of him had faded. 
Despite my nervousness fading, it seemed like his had only increased. I’d only caught a glimpse of it in my hurried departure from my room to his line of sight, but had he.. been adjusting his crotch area?
 No. No. I mean, maybe he was turned on, but that was a completely normal reaction to a half-naked girl in front of a man. To my knowledge, Spencer hadn’t dated anyone in 2 years either, so it was completely possible he also had pent-up desires. This was normal. Spencer Reid did not feel the same way for me, not in the same way as I did for him. 
He quickly looks up and his hands are by his side in record speed. “This one is.. Wow.” He marvels, his eyes boring into my body. “Your breasts. They look great.” 
I can’t help the giggle that escapes me, a part of me secretly delighted that even if this was friendly, Spencer was enamored with my body in the way I’d always wished he would be. 
“Was that too much?” Spencer questions, upon hearing my laugh. “I’m only being honest. Your breasts look nice in this one. My eyes immediately went there with this piece.” 
I smile. “No, no. That’s what I need from you, anyway. That’s what I want my date to do too, anyway.” I say, dismissing his worries. 
“Right. Your date.” He says, curtly. 
I raise an eyebrow at the snippy reply, but don’t think much of it. “So.. the last one then?” 
“Yep. The last one.” 
“Right..” I mumble, going back to my room, slightly confused by the sudden change in demeanor, but ready to get this over with nonetheless. 
The last piece was a lot more revealing, in the sense that my nipples were exposed from the get-go with this one. A lavender slip, with transparent lace covering the breasts, and the silky fabric stopping right below my crotch. It was a bit more daring, but I still enjoyed the way it framed my curves, my hips, and my breasts. I wondered what Spencer would think, and out of modesty, I placed both my hands over my nipples, wanting to show the lingerie without fully exposing myself to him. 
I walk out, and this time, his gaze is intense. More so than I’d ever seen him in our years of friendship. 
“Spence..?” I ask, when he’s silent for a beat too long.
“Turn around.” He says, firmly, and I find myself listening instantly, baring my back to him, and no doubt he’s focusing on the way the fabric wrapped around my ass, leaving me slightly flustered and more on display than I’d ever felt tonight. 
“Spencer? Come on. Say something. Feeling a bit like cattle right now.” I voice, laughing a little nervously.
When I hear his voice again, I nearly jump out of my skin because he’s right behind me, his hands ghosting across my bare shoulders. 
“Don’t go.” He whispers, his hot breath fanning around my neck, sending shivers up my spine. 
I’m too nervous to turn around, so I keep my hands planted firmly on my breasts and murmur out my confusion. 
“What?” 
“Don’t go.” He repeats, more firmly this time, and I can feel his hand moving to grip my hip, orienting me to face him. “Please.” 
“Why not?” I ask, softly, my eyes wide as I try to read his expression. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, and I could feel his hands moving to cup my face, bringing us even closer. 
“I’d be an idiot to have not at least tried.” He whispers. “I’m sorry for doing this now. I’m sorry if this ruins everything. But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.” 
I feel my confusion bubbling up, my eyebrows furrowing a little bit. “Why.. what is this? Is this because of the lingerie?” I ask, my lips parting slightly. 
“No. God no.” I can see him emphatically shaking his head at my rumination. “This has been coming for a long time.” He murmurs. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t. I can’t physically stand the thought of someone worshiping you the way I’d like to.” He rasps out, and I feel my heart jump, my breath coming out faster. 
When I’m silent, unable to respond,  his fingers run across my lips. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers. 
I nod, and it’s like he’s been waiting all night, and then some. His grip on my face tightens and he brings me in for a searing, earth-shattering kiss. His lips move over mine desperately, and I feel his grip shifting to bring my hands off my breasts, and to replace them with his own, his hands now pawing and squeezing at the flesh, which draws a soft moan from me. 
He throws his head back at the noise, leaning to kiss my neck. “Fuck yes.” He mumbles, seemingly goaded on by the noises slipping through my lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans out, to no one in particular, just wanting to get the words out there somehow. 
I nod rapidly, and his hands are on my hips again, guiding me to the couch and laying me down. I move easily in his grasp,  a slight gasp escaping me as he climbs on top. His thumb goes to graze my jaw, leaning in for another kiss. It’s less rushed this time, slow and passionate. His tongue darts out to swipe over my bottom lip, and I open my mouth easily for him, reveling in the sweetness of how he tasted. 
He breaks off the kiss and moves down, kissing my breast between the lace. His tongue goes out to wet the fabric, and I’m arching my back at the sensation of the rough lace and the warm wetness now rubbing against the sensitive skin.
“You taste so good.” He mumbles. “God. Why did I wait so long?” 
“No clue.” I whimper out, desperately. “But don’t stop.” 
“I’m not stopping.” He says, gruffly, moving to bunch up the fabric of the slip until it pooled around my waist, exposing my dripping cunt to him. 
“I can’t stand the thought of another man touching you like this.” He whispers, his finger running up and down my wet folds, causing me to moan out needily. 
“Shh, shh, baby.” He murmurs. “You’ll get what you want soon enough.” 
Without warning, he easily slides two fingers inside me, and I can’t help but wonder if he was made for me. Given the way he effortlessly reached that spongy spot so deep inside me, I was compelled to say yes. The action prompted me to release a string of desperate moans and whimpers, increasing in octave with every second he pumped the digits in and out of me. 
“Yeah, you like that?” He mumbles, almost entranced with the way my cunt was sucking him in, tightening around his finger with each second he continued. 
“Yes. Yes, oh God.” I moan out, my eyes squeezing shut. 
“Open your eyes.” he demands, his thumb now darting out to rub harsh, tight circles on my clit. “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers.” 
My eyes snap open, and I can’t help it when I release another moan and feel my orgasm absolutely shred through me. My hips raise in an attempt to move off Spencer’s fingers, but he manages to follow my movement, nursing me through my orgasm, and watching every second of it. 
When it's over, he removes his finger and brings it up to his lips, sensually tasting my release right in front of me, never breaking eye contact- and the sight itself makes me need him all over again. 
I pull him in by the collar of his shirt, and my hands move to remove his buttons, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He laughs a bit and admonishes me, removing my shaky fingers. 
“Let me.” He mumbles, leaning back between my spread legs, and removing the clothing, before moving to his belt. 
I bite my lip as he hovers over me, and kiss him again. I can’t get enough of him. He’s all I wanted for so long, and here he is- mirroring my desire in the way I’d always hoped he would. 
“No man-” He breathes out, in between kisses, “could do this for you.” 
I nod in affirmation, continuing to kiss him. No argument there. 
“No man deserves to.” He adds, possessively, and it’s enough to make me clench around nothing, and I know at that point I’m more desperate for him than I had been the whole night. 
“Spence, please.” I groan out. “Need you.” 
He understands immediately and wastes no time, pulling himself out from his boxers, giving himself a few tugs before pushing inside of me, groaning as he feels my warm, wet walls grasp onto his cock. 
He remains there for a second, allowing me to adjust to his size. When he looks at my face again, and I nod, he starts to move, pulling out until only his tip remains inside of me, before slamming in. My jaw drops in a silent scream, and my hands go to grip his shoulders, and with the confirmation I was enjoying myself, he set on a ruthless pace, snapping his hips over, and over again, until I was reduced to a babbling mess in front of the man. 
He’s all I can feel at this point. His hands on my breasts, my hips, before he eventually rests both hands on either side of me and envelops me in his being. I can smell him, and the familiar scent only serves to tighten the coil in my stomach, reminding me that this was someone I’d loved so deeply for so long. Someone who was interwoven into the fiber of my being, and I know this is all I want, and all I’ll ever want. 
As we both feel our releases coming on at an alarming pace, he leans up to kiss me one more time, moaning against my mouth. I feel myself whimper before I feel my walls contract around his cock, my orgasm causing my back to arch even closer to him. The clamping of my cunt seems to drive him to finish too, and a warmth fills my deepest point as he groans into my ear, pulling out and lying against me. The two of us are panting, sweat sticking to both of our bodies and hair, lost in the post-sex haze and enjoying the proximity. 
He kisses my jaw and I giggle out and give a soft moan. “God.” I whisper. 
“Yeah.” He murmurs against my skin, and I can feel his smile. “Are you canceling your date then?” He says, a slight bit of glee in his voice. 
I giggle a little, finding his delight adorable and endearing. “Yes, Spencer. Obviously.” I murmur. 
“Good.” He whispers, laying his head on my chest. There’s a lull of quiet as my hands stroke through his hair, smoothing it out from our illicit activities just a moment ago. I can hear his grin as he breaks the silence. 
“Guess you could say I liked this piece the best.” 
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hiii!! omg. this took a while. yes this is more of a valentines day fic and its a bit late but hey!! got it out in february. this was actually written for @imagining-in-the-margins new beginnings challenge, so go ahead and check that out when you can. i hope you guys like this one. as usual, please reblog, like, comment, and show your support any way you can. thank you for reading, and i hope it was enjoyable <333 ty ty ty!!
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aperrywilliams · 8 months
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Little Big Secret (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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(Not my gif. Credits to the creator)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: You’re 36 weeks pregnant with Spencer’s baby. What happens when you are about to give birth and need to contact Spencer while he is in a case out of town?
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Pregnancy and labor symptoms are described. Some strong words. If I missed something, let me know. It's a fluffy one. Dad!Spencer coming to light. The chaotic trio I love having their moment (Reid-Morgan-Prentiss).
A/N: I wrote this fic based on this request. I loved doing it! Let me know what you think.
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Being 36 weeks pregnant and stuck in your apartment trying to convince your non-born baby girl to stop kicking your guts is not funny. It's worse when the same scenario occurs at 3 am, and you are alone, unable to sleep in the last 24 hours, exhausted and sentimental because your boyfriend Spencer isn't home.
You won't tell him that, though. You convinced him to go with the team to Trenton for a case, telling him you would be okay and that baby girl Reid won't be here for at least two weeks. That's what your doctor said to you in the last appointment.
Reluctantly Spencer agreed, making you swear you would call him or your sister if anything happened.
"Relax, baby. Everything will be okay. We'll be here when you return from your case," you assured him. "You have to go while you can. Once this girl is born, you'll be stuck here and will get tired of us," you giggled. Spencer's eyes widened.
"What? No! Get tired of you? Never!"
"About that. Do they know why you are taking leave in the next weeks?"
"Not really. Hotch knows, but the rest assume I'll go to see my mom," your boyfriend shrugged.
You still find it unbelievable that the best-known profilers in the country haven't noticed one of their own has a girlfriend for three years and a baby on the way.
At first, you had your apprehensions about why Spencer didn't want his team to know your existence. You thought maybe Spencer felt embarrassed because of you or didn't consider your relationship worth enough for them to know. But your boyfriend assured you it was anything but that. He told you what happened to Haley, Hotch's wife, and the multiple times a team's family member has been exposed to danger because of their job. He wanted you safe. He wanted to protect you.
The only one who knew about you was Hotch, Spencer's boss. But he, better than anyone, could understand Spencer's reasons, so he hadn't said anything.
You understood it and accepted it, even if you both knew that at some point, your secret would not be a secret anymore. For now, it was safer like this.
Exhaustion was all you got now, and even you have been trying to bribe your unborn daughter with chocolates if she behaved and let you sleep. It seemed you succeeded as she stopped making a party in your womb.
You fall asleep thinking about how your life has changed in the past years and how happy you were despite how uncomfortable pregnancy was at this point.
The next morning you woke up feeling a little better. Sleep helped, but your body was still tense, so you thought a warm bath after breakfast was a good idea to relax your sore muscles.
You were finishing your pancakes when Spencer called you.
"Hey, baby!" You greeted.
"Good morning, my love. How did you sleep?"
You didn't have the heart to tell him how uncomfortable you were last night.
"Good. Everything is good here. How is the case?" You tried to direct the topic to him. Spencer sighed.
"I think we are close to catching the unsub, but it had been hard," he confessed.
"I know you'll get him soon," you assured him. Spencer chuckled. He loved how you were always rooting for him. You were his biggest fan.
"I hope so. And you? Our baby girl has been good? When I come back-" he didn't even finish the sentence when someone called his name in the distance. 'Reid! We need you now!'
A heavy sigh left Spencer's lips.
"I'm sorry, love. I got to go," he mumbled into the receiver, guilt dripping from his voice.
"Hey, it's okay. Don't apologize and go to catch the bad guy," you encouraged him.
"I will. I love you so so much. And I love our little one. I promise to make it up to you both, okay?"
"I love you more. We'll be waiting for you."
Despite your efforts to relax during your bath, it seemed baby Reid had other plans, like moving and squeezing your insides. You tried singing to her, telling stories, and everything that came to mind.
You gave up and hopped off the tub. You dried your body and decided to watch some TV. After a while, stuck in a random show, the noise lulled you to sleep without noticing.
Everything would have been perfect if it weren't for the fact that an intense pain woke you up suddenly. You didn't know the time, but the TV was still on. You tried to sit on the sofa, but the pain wouldn't leave you, so much so that it was hard for you to breathe. The twisting in your belly was stronger than you'd ever felt and scaring you.
"My sweet girl, I know you're eager to see us, but you have some days left in Mommy's womb, so try to be nice, okay?" You panted, trying to reason with your baby.
You weren't ready to give birth, let alone without Spencer.
But, again, baby Reid had her own plans.
Another sharp pang made you slouch on the sofa; this time, you felt something warm running down your legs. You looked down and saw the liquid drip onto the couch and slide to the floor.
Fuck. Your water just broke.
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The morning was a rush for the whole team and the Tremont police. After an anonymous tip, they located the guy who fitted the profile and ended up being the unsub they were looking for. As he had a hostage, the team moved quickly to the warehouse where he kept captive his ex-girlfriend, the source of his rage. Before things went further, Rossi's shot ended with the unsub screaming in pain and the hostage a nervous wreck but unharmed.
Spencer couldn't believe it took them a whole week to locate the bastard, but it was finally done. So they returned to the precinct to wrap the last details and go home.
Spencer was pulling the case photos off the board when his phone started ringing. He saw it was you and hastened to answer. Usually, you didn't call him while he was working.
"Hello?"
But a loud grunt came to his ear instead of your sweet voice. Spencer's eyes widened.
“(Y/N)? Is that you?"
You barely could say a word, the intense pain reducing you to heavy breathing and whimpers.
"Spence-" you managed to say. "The baby. It hurts."
It didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening."Where are you? What's wrong? Where is Tania?"
Too many questions, and you had answers for all of them. But it was difficult to say a word with the pain cursing your body. After the contraction subsided, you could speak.
"My water broke. I'm home, and Tania doesn't answer. I don't know- ahhhh, fuck!!!"
Shit. You were in labor and alone at home. Spencer wanted to throw up.
"Baby, listen to me. I will call 911, but I need you to breathe, okay?"
"No! Spencer, don't hang up. I need you," you cried.
Spencer paced frantically in the room as Emily, Morgan, and Rossi looked at him, worried.
To call 911? Who the hell was he talking to?
"Reid? What is it?" Morgan tried to get his attention, but Spencer's brain was trying to make a plan to help you without stopping talking to you.
“(Y/N), please. I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me, please?"
JJ and Hotch entered the room at that moment. Both frowned when they saw Spencer pacing and the rest standing and waiting to know what was going on and what to do to help Spencer.
“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?"
You couldn't reply to him, crying in pain instead. Spencer thought he could die of panic.
"Yes. But I can't move," you sobbed.
Hotch didn't need much to understand what was going on. Grabbing his phone, he called Penelope.
Spencer was reduced to dumb and didn't know what to do.
"Garcia, I need you to call 911 and dispatch an ambulance to..." he paused and looked at Spencer, who was talking to you. "Reid," Hotch named. When he got no response, he tried louder. "Reid! Where? Where is she?" Spencer's face found Hotch's.
"At my place," he told his boss.
"Garcia, an ambulance to Reid's address. Report a pregnant woman in labor that needs to go to the hospital. I need you to go there too. Make sure she gets to the hospital alright. I'll give you more information later."
Pregnant woman in labor at Spencer's address?
Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi shared the same confused looks.
"Baby, the help is on the way. Penelope knows and will help you to go to the hospital. She has a key, so don't worry. I'm on my way, okay? I'll call Tania too," Spencer informed you, moving to collect his things.
"Please, hurry up," you begged. As the call ended, Spencer turned to see his boss.
"Hotch. I have to-. I need to-," Spencer stuttered. Aaron nodded.
"It'll be okay; we are leaving now," he assured Spencer.
Morgan was the first to bring the elephant in the room.
"Can you tell us what's going on?"
Then, Spencer noticed the team hearing the whole ordeal.
"Uh. My 36-week pregnant girlfriend is giving birth to my daughter right now, and she's alone. I need to be there," Spencer succinctly explained as he dialed (Y/N)'s sister's number again without luck.
To say the team was shocked was an understatement. But there wasn't time to ask questions. They needed to move quickly.
Hotch was who took the lead.
"Morgan, you'll drive to the hospital with Reid and Prentiss now. I'll stay with JJ and Rossi to pack everything and follow you. The drive to DC is about three hours; make it two. I'll take care of the traffic police," he said to Morgan, who nodded, grabbing the car keys. "Prentiss, you'll get an open line with Garcia while she joins (Y/N) and takes her to the hospital. Now go!" Hotch instructed, now patting Spencer's back. "You'll get on time. Go," he told Spencer, who nodded and stomped from the room, followed by Morgan and Prentiss.
-
"Hey, Reid. We'll make it, kid," Morgan assured while driving on the highway, Emily as the copilot. In the back seat, Spencer couldn't stop bouncing his leg, worried about if the ambulance had already taken you to the hospital. On cue, Emily's phone went off.
"Garcia, you're on speaker," Emily announced.
"My lovelies, good news. I got your girl, boy Wonder, and we're heading to the hospital. Besides the pain, she's fine," Garcia recounted, and Spencer could breathe again.
"Can I talk to her?" Spencer asked.
"No, yet; they have her in the stretcher and with oxygen while monitoring her, but as we reach the hospital and will get her admitted, we can call you again. Nonetheless, she asked me to tell you she hated you for putting a baby in her. I really like this girl already," Garcia quipped, making laugh Emily and Morgan. Spencer's cheeks flushed.
"Garcia?" He sheepishly asked. "Can you tell her I love her and am on my way?"
Morgan and Prentiss looked at each other briefly. They still couldn't believe what was happening, but either way, they had a mission to accomplish: get to the hospital before you gave birth, so the resident genius could see his baby born.
"Sure thing. I will. I'll keep you posted," Garcia assured before hanging up.
Spencer could sense that Emily and Morgan were itching to cover him with questions, but knowing his nervous state, they were respectful enough not to say anything.
"I'm sorry, guys. I didn't tell you anything about (Y/N) before," he mumbled.
"And the baby," Emily added with a non-malice tone.
Spencer's face fell with embarrassment. They were his family, after all. And he kept this little big secret from them.
"But we get it, Reid. We do," Morgan ensured.
"Yeah?"
"Yes. We all know this job, and we want the best for our loved ones, keeping them safe," Prentiss said, turning to see Spencer, who nodded. "What I still can't believe is that you kept us in the dark for three years, and none of us ever suspected a thing. They should fire us," Emily added, making Spencer chuckle.
"What I can't believe is you were able to make someone fall in love with you," Morgan quipped, smirking and gaining a slap on the arm from Prentiss. "And get her pregnant! You have been having a game all this time, and I still thought I needed to be your wingman," Morgan scoffed.
"Worst wingman on earth. He had had to do all the work for himself," Emily added. The three laughed.
They were still with an ETA of one hour when Penelope Facetimed.
"Garcia! How is she?" Spencer rushed to ask.
"Hello to you, genius," Penelope greeted. "(Y/N) is already in a room. She's 7 centimeters of dilatation, so we're waiting," she informed, turning the camera to focus you on the bed, exhausted but relieved of being in the hospital already.
"Honey!" Spencer shouted as Garcia handed the phone.
"Are you coming?" you asked in a broken tone. You didn't have much energy at this point.
"Yes! On my way now. Morgan is driving us with Emily," he informed you.
"We're almost there, pretty girl!" Morgan yelled from the driver's seat.
You let a wary smile. Spencer only wanted to be there with you so he could hold you.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled.
"No. No. Why are you sorry? You have nothing to apologize for, okay?" Spencer hastened to point.
"Our little big secret is no longer a secret," you pouted, feeling guilty about the whole ordeal.
"Baby, it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is you and our little girl being okay. Believe me; it's the only that matters to me. I'm sorry for leaving you," Spencer sniffled.
"I love you," you said, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"And I love you so much," Spencer declared, wiping his tears.
You both kept in Facetime for a while. Spencer tried to keep you focused on anything but the pain, though it was difficult when a deep contraction raked your body from time to time.
Spencer recited your favorite poems and stories and recounted your best memories together. As a natural thing, Emily, Morgan, or Penelope made questions and comments about the things you or Spencer said. That helped. You felt accompanied, not only by your boyfriend but also by the beautiful people who were taking care of you and him. If you ever thought Spencer's coworkers didn't care about him, now all those doubts are cleared.
"We're getting there in five!" Morgan announced.
"Garcia, please tell the staff Spencer is coming so they let him rush upstairs," Emily requested.
"On it!" Garcia chirped. “The doctor is here, so I’ll hang up. Boy Wonder, the third floor, hall to the left,” she informed before the call ended.
Pushing the brakes in front of the hospital’s entrance, Morgan turned to Spencer.
"Go, pretty boy. We'll be there waiting," the man assured.
"Go to see your girls," Emily added. Spencer’s eyes were full of tears.
"Thank you. Really, thank you so much," he voiced before climbing off the SUV and rushing inside the hospital.
-
The doctor announced you were almost ready to give birth now. Just another centimeter of dilation, and you’ll need to push. After he left, you squeezed Penelope’s hand hard. You weren't sure you could do this.
“It’s okay, pumpkin. You can do it. Spencer is already here,” she comforted you. Garcia had just ended her sentence when Spencer rushed inside the room, panting and looking frantically. When he spotted you, you could see the tears in his eyes.
“Spencer!” you cried. He quickly lugged to your side. Garcia sighed, relieved that he was there. Spencer held your hand now, kissing your temple.
“I’m here, my love. I’m here. I won’t leave again,” he chanted, stroking your damped hair.
It was Penelope’s cue to leave the couple alone. But before Garcia crossed the threshold, Spencer ran to her and wrapped her in the tightest embrace he ever gave her.
“Thank you, thank you. For everything,” he mumbled. Garcia could have started crying, but it would be time for that later.
“Anytime, my love. Now go back to your woman. We’ll be outside waiting.” A grateful Spencer nodded before joining you again.
You didn't reach the last centimeter until an hour later. Spencer stood by your side, chanting praises and pushing away your sweat with a cloth whenever you needed it.
When the time came, you were pushing with all the strength you left, but your little girl wasn’t doing it easy for you.
“Spencer, I can’t,” you sobbed. Spencer kissed your head and stroked your hand.
“I know you’re exhausted, my love. But you’re almost there. We’re going to meet our little girl. Want that, right, my little pumpkin?” he talked now to your belly. The waiting room is full of aunts and uncles, ready to see you. They already love you, even if they didn't know about you until three hours ago,” Spencer pointed, and you let out a little chuckle in the middle of the pain.
The feeling of being cared for and loved gave you the last ounce of energy you needed. In the next contraction, you pushed harder, ending with a loud baby cry. Your daughter was here.
When they put her in your arms, wrapped in a white blanket, you couldn't believe it. She was the most beautiful baby in the world—the best combination between Spencer and you.
“You did so good, my love. She’s wonderful, and she’s here with us,” Spencer said, voice full of emotion and tears freely rolling down his cheeks.
You couldn’t stop looking at her.
“Our little big secret,” you cooed. “You’re a lucky baby already,” you whispered to her. Spencer chuckled.
“Should I go to tell them?” He asked you.
“They will kill you if you don’t,” you quipped.
When Spencer showed up in the waiting room, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ were there too.
All eyes were on him.
“A 7 pounds, 2 ounces, and 19.6 inches healthy baby girl,” Spencer announced, the biggest grin plastered on his face.
The room erupted in cheers and claps, everyone taking turns to hug the new father.
Once everyone calmed down, Spencer cleared his throat.
“I want to apologize for keeping this from you. I don't want you to think I don't trust or care enough to tell you about the important things in my life. It's just- you know,” Spencer trailed off. Rossi patted his shoulder.
“We know, kid. We really do,” the older man assured him.
“Yeah, Spence. We understand. That doesn't mean it’s not a big thing, but we get it,” JJ seconded.
“We are just jealous because Hotch was the only one who knew,” Garcia scoffed.
“Boss privilege, I guess,” Hotch shrugged, making the rest laugh.
“Well, being (Y/N) and baby Reid not a little big secret anymore, we can meet them properly, right?” Morgan pointed.
“Oh, yes! Please! I want to meet my goddaughter!” Garcia chirped, and Spencer looked at her, frowning.
“Don’t look at me like that, doctor. I won the privilege when I held that poor woman in pain,” she added.
“Maybe you’ll be the godmother, but I’ll be the cool aunt,” Emily chirped.
“And I’ll be Papa Rossi,” David seconded.
Spencer shook his head, laughing as everyone on the team fought for a place in his daughter's life.
He was so happy to have you and baby Reid. But now his happiness was complete knowing he could share it, and his whole found family could be part of it.
-------
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger
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nastybuckybarnes · 1 year
Text
Comfortable
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Summary: Bucky finds out that you’ve never climaxed during intimacy and he’s not happy about that.
Warnings: Smut, Crying during sex, Overstimulation (mental and physical), Language, Fluff, Minor Angst but not really
Word Count: 2.8K
A/n: Kinda based on life but without bucky coming in and setting things straight lol. I’ve also got the first like 5 parts of a new series written, so that’ll be coming soon hehe. anyway, I hope you guys enjoy, and I love you all very much! 
~*~
“I don’t know, Nat, I just... I guess I’m just never... I don’t know. I’m in my head a lot, I guess.”
The redhead snickers, elbowing her sister and sharing a look with her before both of their gazes return to yours.
“Barnes lacking?”
You shake your head quickly, trying to clear his name.
“No! No, God no! He just... it’s not him, it’s me. I think too much, I’m focused on making sure it’s good for him, making sure he finishes that I... I don’t know.”
Yelena purses her lips, “does he know he hasn’t made you cum yet?”
You swallow hard and shake your head, dropping your gaze to your lap.
“I... I fake it.”
The assassins exchange glances again and you huff a sigh.
“He’s good, he’s really good and he makes me feel good and I get close but... I just can’t... I can’t cum. And it’s not like it’s just him, I’ve never cum with anybody I’ve been with. I just... can’t do it. Maybe I’m broken,” you whisper that last part mostly to yourself, but both women jump in and shake their heads.
“It’s an intimate thing. You probably just want to feel one hundred percent comfortable with the person before giving that last bit of yourself to them. Orgasming with a partner for the first time is... intense. You should talk to him about it, tell him the truth and explain it. Maybe you guys need more foreplay, maybe you need to be in control more, but you’ll only figure it out by talking to him about it.”
You bite your bottom lip and shake your head at Natasha, “I don’t wanna hurt his feelings though, Nat. I just... how the hell do I gently tell him that he hasn’t made me cum and I've been faking it the whole time?”
Two sets of trained eyes dart over your shoulder just as you hear the door to your apartment shut.
Tension pulls your shoulders up and you squeeze your eyes shut, praying that he didn’t hear you.
The way the two Russians in front of you press their lips into thin lines gives you your answer, and you drop your head forward, hating the fact that this is now a conversation you need to have with your boyfriend.
“Well uh, I think we should take that as our cue to leave,” Yelena says awkwardly, pressing on a smile and offering Bucky a small wave as she rises to her feet, Natasha following after.
You stay rooted in place on the couch, refusing to even acknowledge his presence as he putters about in the kitchen, waiting until your friends leave before finally making his way into the living room.
Your eyes don’t leave your hands as he takes a seat on the floor in front of you, his hands, one cold and one warm, finding yours and squeezing gently.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to take deep breaths.
If you were to look at him, you’d see that his face is confused, not angry. Not a hint of anger could be found within him. If anything, he’s upset that you hadn’t told him before. That you didn’t feel comfortable confiding in him and telling him the truth.
The entire time he was under the impression that you were enjoying the sex and getting just as much out of it as he was.
“Why are you apologizing, sweet girl?”
You sniffle and shake your head, fear icing your veins.
You don’t want him to be mad at you and you don’t want him to feel offended.
“I just... I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head and reaches one hand up to cup your jaw, raising your head enough so that you finally, finally look into his eyes.
Your beautiful eyes are filled with tears and it makes his heart ache in his chest.
“Why the tears, honey, what’s wrong?”
You shake your head and sniffle, dropping your gaze only to raise it when he squeezes your chin.
“C’mon, sweet girl, you can talk to me. I... I don’t want you to ever be afraid to talk to me, okay? What’s got you so upset?”
You take a deep breath and squeeze his hand, trying to muster up your courage.
“I just... I don’t want to make you mad.”
He furrows his brows and shakes his head, absolutely flabbergasted at the fact that you think he’d be mad at you for being honest.
“Why would I ever be mad, baby? If you’re upset, I wanna know what I can do to make you feel better.”
You take another deep breath then slowly nod.
“I just... I know that sex is a sensitive topic for a lot of guys. Especially... their performance. And yours is great! The sex is great and I love it and you’re amazing! I just... I haven’t... ya’know. I never have with anyone else either. I’m starting to think that I can only do it by myself,” you whisper glumly, your shoulders sinking in.
Bucky is quiet for a moment. He’d already heard every word you’d spoken to Natasha and Yelena, and, he’s not gonna lie, it punches at his pride to know that his girl isn't enjoying it as much as he is. All he wants is for you to feel your best in every aspect of life.
“Well, why don’t we talk about this a bit more, huh? You said that it’s not just me, but everyone you’ve been with?”
He knows this isn’t about him, it’s about you, but he really hopes that you’re not trying to soften the blow. If other people have made you cum, he wants to know how and when and then he wants to cut their fingers off for ever touching you.
You nod, sniffling. “Yeah, I just... I don’t know if I get in my head too much or if I’m... not comfortable enough, but I just... I can’t.”
He nods slowly, trying to gather his thoughts and figure out a solution.
“What can I do to make you more comfortable, honey?”
You shake your head and push to your feet, hating every word of this conversation.
“I am comfortable with you, Buck. I just... forget I said anything, it doesn’t matter anyway.”
His long fingers wind around your wrist, stopping you from fleeing like you so desperately want to.
“It does matter, honey. It matters a lot, actually. I’m not mad and I’m not offended. I just... I want you to feel the same intimacy that I feel when we have sex. It’s... amazing. And I want you to experience it. So tell me how I can make you feel better.”
Your glossy eyes raise to his and, when you see nothing but honesty and love, you nod slowly.
“I don’t know what’s missing or what needs to happen. You’ve got me really close, but I just.. maybe I think about it too much? I don’t know.”
He cups your cheeks and presses the softest kiss to your forehead.
“You’re gonna need to direct me, baby. Next time, you’re gonna need to tell me what you like, what feels good, okay? And when you get close, you tell me and I’m gonna keep going until you actually cum, is that all right?”
You nod again.
“Okay.”
He kisses your lips gently then pulls you into a tight embrace.
“Okay.”
~*~
The next time the opportunity to be intimate arises, it’s after a small get-together at Yelena’s place.
You’ve already had a sizeable glass of wine, and now all you want is your boyfriend’s hands on your body.
He pushes open the door to your shared apartment, a grin on his lips as you pepper kisses along his jawline.
“Hey, sweetheart. You want something? Hmm?”
You nod, lips not leaving his skin as you push his jacket off of his shoulders.
“C’mere.” His metal arm dips beneath your thighs, hoisting you up, while his flesh arm wraps around your waist, keeping you held tightly against his chest as you wrap your legs around him.
He leads the two of you through the apartment and into the bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed and pulling away to pull his shirt off.
You shimmy out of your dress and toss it to the ground, leaving you only in your matching black lace set.
Bucky’s eyes devour your figure and he’s quick to shed his pants and join you on the bed, crawling between your legs and smoothing his hands over your thighs.
“How you feelin’, pretty girl? You okay?”
You nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on the planet.
And to him, you might as well be.
“You gonna let me eat you out, baby? Please?”
How could you possibly say no to that?
When you nod at him, he grins, beyond pleased, and slides his fingers beneath the fabric on your hips.
He pulls your panties down your legs and brings them up to his face, holding your gaze while taking a deep breath through his nose.
“Fuck, you smell good. Taste even better, though.” And with that, he situates himself between your thighs and flattens his tongue against you, licking you from your dripping hole up to your throbbing clit.
You sigh happily, fingers tangling through his hair as he works his tongue over your clit and dips two fingers into your heat.
“Just like that...” you whisper, your head digging into the pillows as he plays you like a fiddle.
He continues fucking his fingers into you, pausing when you give a particularly hard tug on his hair then repeating exactly what made you do that.
You can feel it slowly building, each pass of his tongue and thrust of his fingers brings you slightly closer, and you can’t help but feel your heart begin to race.
“Fuck... just like that, Bucky...”
He follows your instructions perfectly, doing exactly what makes you feel good.
He watches your face scrunch, feels your heels dig into his back and your nails scratch at his scalp and - Goddamn is this what he was missing out on? This is what you look like when you’re really about to cum?
It takes all of his self-control to not grab his phone and take a picture of you.
Your chest rises and falls more rapidly and your eyes are squeezed shut as your walls start fluttering around his fingers.
Fuck, you look gorgeous.
It’s such a strange feeling, having him bring you closer and closer to the edge. It’s so foreign yet so right and you tug at his hair and roll your hips up to his face.
“Bucky, I... I’m gonna.... oh fuck, please... I’m gonna cum, please!”
God, hearing that is like music to his ears.
He continues, bringing his free hand up to yours when you reach for it.
You interlock your fingers and grind your teeth together as your release washes over you, far more intense than anything you’ve ever been able to bring yourself.
A sound that’s half-moan half-gasp falls from your lips and you squeeze his hand harder while your walls clamp down around his fingers.
Bliss fills you, sparks flying from every nerve in your body, head to toe, and Bucky watches in awe.
He’s not sure how he believed you before when you were faking. The way you look when you cum is something he’s never going to be able to forget now.
Your body is wound so tight, your thighs clenched around his head and your nails digging into his scalp. Your walls are pulsing and clenching and, fuck, it feels incredible. He can’t wait to feel it around his cock.
He continues slowly fucking his fingers in and out of you while working his tongue over your clit, only pulling away when you tug your hips back.
He smacks his lips together and pulls away, his eyes connecting with yours.
Your chest heaves and your forehead has a light sheen of sweat on it, and you look like the Goddess you are.
“How you feel, baby?” He asks gently, smoothing his hands up your sides and rubbing his thumbs over the soft skin of your stomach.
You only nod at him, your hands coming to rest on his wrists.
“Words, baby. I need words.”
You lick your lips and take a deep breath before speaking.
“I feel good, Buck. I-I feel really good,” you whisper, eyes prickling with tears at the intensity of the moment.
He smiles lovingly down at you and leans in for a gentle kiss.
You taste yourself on his tongue and it makes the moment even more erotic.
“Gonna let me fuck you, baby?” He asks against your mouth, trailing his lips down your neck and kissing your skin gently.
You nod, sighing softly as tears trail back into your hairline.
He pulls back for a moment, just long enough to situate himself comfortably between your thighs and align himself with your entrance.
And then he’s pushing into you slowly, making you feel every single inch of it.
Your mouth drops open and your legs wind around his hips, pulling him even deeper than before. He’s pressing against every sensitive spot inside you and it feels heavenly.
“Fuck, you feel good, baby. Feel so good... God... nice n’ tight... wet... shit you’re like heaven.” He rasps the words against your throat, lips trailing up over your skin to rest on yours for a quick moment before he pulls back to gaze into your eyes.
“I love you, pretty girl. I really do.”
Your heart swells and you lean up to kiss him, gasping against his lips when he pulls his hips back and slams them forward.
He starts a steady pace, smoothing one of his hands over yours and interlocking your fingers.
“I wanna feel you cum for me again. Wanna feel it on my cock, baby. God, you look so pretty when you cum. Wanna take a picture of it and frame it, I swear.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and whine softly, arching your back and groaning when he hits deeper inside of you at the new angle.
“Right there... oh fuck, please...”
He buries his head in your neck, peppering the skin there with kisses while his free hand travels between your bodies to find your clit.
He circles the bundle of nerves with expert precision, lifting his lips to yours to swallow your moans.
You’re barely kissing. No, it’s more of just breathing each other’s breaths and moaning in each other’s mouths, but the intimacy is unmatched and the passion is flaming through your soul.
You wind your free arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to press more of his weight against you, and you can’t help but feel more secure and more comfortable.
“I... Bucky... I’m gonna... oh fuck.”
He nods, showering your face in kisses.
“Cum for me, honey. C’mon, please. I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”
You can’t very well deny him when he’s asking you so nicely.
His fingers move against your clit faster and faster while his hips continue grinding into yours firmly, making your toes curl and your back arch further.
Your chest presses against his and you rake your nails against his back so hard you're sure you’re drawing blood, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.
Not when you’re falling headfirst into the most intense and powerful climax of your life.
Your vision goes white and your ears start to ring, and all you can do is squeeze around him.
Your legs tighten around his waist, your nails dig into his flesh, and your walls clamp down around his cock as fireworks erupt in your belly.
Bucky fucks you through it, keeping his pace steady as you tremble and convulse beneath him, your mouth open as soft whines fall from it.
God, the feeling of you, all hot and tight and wet around him... he’s ready to die happily now that he’s gotten to truly experience the glory that is having you cum around him.
His pride swells and he can't help the way his ego inflates when he pulls his head back to look at your pretty face.
He did that.
He made you feel that good.
He’s the only man, no, the only person in the world besides yourself that’s ever made you cum. And he’s going to be the only one.
And now that he knows how to do it, now that he's gotten you there with his mouth and his cock, he’s never going to get enough of it. He’s gotta make up for lost time, doesn't he?
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13uswntimagines · 2 months
Text
Big Emotions II (Alessia X Leah x Child!Reader)
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Request: Please tell me there will be a part 2 to big emotions where she meets El and Mazza and Alessia finds out she got sad about the boos
Big Emotions Pt. 1
Warnings: none. cute kid fic.
You had never been so unhappy at a football match before. Even tucked into Leah’s chest with Squirt safely under your arm and your Batman blanket draped around you like a hooded cloak couldn’t make it better.
Leah thought that maybe the booing would stop after halftime, and she had made the mistake of suggesting it after the two of you had returned to your seats just behind the visitor's bench. She thought the crowd would calm down, and just enjoy the game. 
She was wrong. 
She had finally gotten you calmed down, munching on goldfish crackers, waiting for the half to start when the chanting began to echo around the stadium as the players started to filter out of the tunnel. 
Your eyebrows pulled tightly together at the fuck you Russo coming from the supporter's section, reverberating through every tier of Old Trafford. 
“They sayed a bad word,” You murmured, offering a cracker to Squirt before popping it in your mouth. 
Leah hummed, tucking her chin on your shoulder and pulling you closer to her chest. “They are,”
You knew about bad words. You had been in charge of the English training camp swear jar for many camps now because it was the only way to get the team to pay up. It was an adorable running gag the media staff would have absolutely posted had Alessia been alright with sharing your face with the general public. 
“No like,” You said, making your fish cracker swim into your mouth. You munched down on it, and pulled your blanket more tightly around you and Squirt. 
“I know,” Leah said, wrapping her puffy jacket around you and zipping it so you were nestled safely inside away from the cold. “We’ll just have to keep our cheering up to drown them all out huh?”
You nodded. “We cheer for Mama,” 
Leah hummed, hugging you more tightly to her. “They’re about to come out, do you want to wave?” 
“Mama see us?” You asked, your eyes already scanning the players emerging from the tunnel, searching for your mama. 
“Of course she will,” Leah promised, knowing Alessia always looked for you if you didn’t go to the locker room during halftime. Still, you got anxious that she wouldn’t find you and wave, especially as of late. “Mama loves us,” 
Your shoulders relaxed when you spotted Alessia’s familiar form, giggling with Ella as they made their way out of the tunnel. 
“Mama love us,” You echoed, lifting your little hand and waving towards Alessia. 
It only took her a second to see you, waving back enthusiastically and blowing you a kiss. You caught it, smiling widely despite the hate blaring from the fans around the stadium. 
You waved at Ella too and Mary, sending them a little heart hands with Leah’s help, frowning when the booing from the crowd only got louder as they all took their places on the pitch. 
Leah bounced you lightly, squeezing you to head off any ill feelings about the way the fans started various We Hate Russo chants, and to help you feel safe and secure. 
Though this time, they didn’t seem to bother you as much. 
You glanced back at the blonde defender. “We cheer for Mama,” 
She nodded. “We’ll cheer for Mama,” 
You looked back towards the field, snuggling back into her chest, and lifting Squirt so his head just peeked up out of the collar of Leah’s coat zipped around you. 
You would cheer so loud that Mama knew you were rooting for her. Then the whistle blew for the second half to begin. 
*****
“El!!” you cheered, wiggling excitedly in Leah’s arms as the midfielder finally approached the two of you. 
You had been waiting very patiently after the game finished if you did say so yourself, not complaining as the players shook hands and did their mandatory lap and huddle before you and Leah were allowed down on the pitch. 
“Hey, little bit!” She cheered, pulling you out of Leah’s arms and spinning you in circles, your blanket fluttered out behind you like a cape. 
Leah couldn’t help but smile at your giggles of delight. 
It was an effect Ella always had on you, even when you were grumpy. 
“Hey,” Alessia said, wrapping her arms around Leah’s waist. 
Leah leaned back into her taller frame. “Hey love, great game,” 
“Thanks,” Alessia smiled, her dimples poking out. She took a glance back at you, determining that you were thoroughly distracted by Ella, before leaning in for a very quick kiss. 
“Little miss greatly enjoyed your goals,” Leah said as Alessia pulled back. 
“And what about you?” The striker asked, wiggling her eyebrows. 
You loved pretty much anything she did, but Leah was harder to impress. At least she pretended to be.
“They were ok,” Leah shrugged, glancing at you again, her face turning serious. “But I need to talk to you about something,”
Alessia matched her expression, raising an eyebrow as if to say go on. 
“We had a bit of a meltdown after the fans started booing,” Leah explained, her voice lowering so the players still milling around them would have a harder time eavesdropping. “I’m pretty sure it’ll be all over the media with the number of cameras on us,” 
“Wonderful,” Alessia sighed. 
She did her best to keep you off social media. She had heard stories of people using it to find and exploit children, and she wanted to keep you as far from that as she could. She wanted to protect you as much as she could. 
“She also wanted to make sure that neither of us were leaving,” Leah continued, glancing back towards you as Ella placed you on the ground, letting you hold her hand as you gained your footing. “We might want to have a chat with her later, with lots of cuddles and reassurances,” 
“Of course,” Alessia agreed, she had already been planning on it, especially with how withdrawn you had been since Leah was away. 
She knew it stemmed from whatever had made you so terrified that they would leave you, but that didn’t help her when she was trying to calm you down. The only cure would be to be surrounded by both of them, she was sure. 
*****
“Munchkin!” Mary cheered as El flew you in her direction, tossing you up (very gently) so the keeper could catch you in her outstretched hands. 
“Mazza!” You matched her excitement giggling loudly as she tossed you in the her again and caught you, spinning you in a tight circle. 
“How’s my favorite striker in training?” Mary asked, ticking your belly as she fixed the too large England jersey covering your frame. 
You shrugged, a smile playing at your lips. “Ok, manu let me score. No stop my penalty,”
Mary chuckled, helping Ella tuck your Batman blanket back around your shoulders. “Well maybe you’re just too good,” 
“Better than your mama,” Ella added. 
Your nose scrunched and you shook your head. “No one better than Mama. Just no try stop,”
“We could test it out,” Mary suggested. “See if you’ve lost your skills,” 
Her and Ella expected you to agree instantly, as you were obsessed with scoring goals on both of them. Practicing your penalties and passing was a hallmark of any time you spent with them. 
But you didn’t. 
You shrugged again, tucking yourself into Mary’s frame instead of wiggling excitedly like you normally would. 
Ella and Mary shared a look. 
“Do you want to shoot on Mazza?” Ella asked you more directly, rubbing your back. 
You shook your head. “No,” 
Mary frowned. “Why munchkin?”
You were quiet for a long second before you left your hiding place long enough to look at them. 
“No want boo,” You said softly, glancing at the lingering fans still in the stands. “Or sayed the bad word,” 
“They won’t boo you,” Ella said, brushing her thumb across your cheek. “You’re too cute to boo,” 
“Boo Mama,” You explained. “Cause she lefted. But I lefted too,” 
Mary and Ella shared another look, the weight of what you were telling them more acute than any three-year-old should understand. You should be oblivious to how unfair the football fans could be. Oblivious to the cruelty that the world could show. 
But you weren’t. 
“Sweetie, it doesn’t matter what the fans do,” Mary said gently. “But they won’t boo you, because you didn’t leave them,” 
“I did!” You insisted, your volume going up and drawing the attention of a few of the players still milling about. “Make friends with the Gooners. Play with them,” 
“I know,” Mary soothed, as Ella caught the eye of your mama. “But it’s different. They’re not booing your mama because she made friends with the Arsenal girls. They’re booing her because they don’t understand why she left,” 
“Be with Leah and with me,” You said, your tiny eyebrows furrowing, and a little crinkle appearing between them. “No weave me,” 
“She will never leave you,” Ella agreed, rubbing your back. “You’re right. She moved so she could spend more time with you and Leah, and that’s ok. The fans just don't know how to process their big emotions,” 
“People act like meanie butt heads when they no say why they sad,” You said, repeating a version of what your mama and Leah told you anytime you were trying to process your own emotions. 
When you didn’t tell your Mama or Leah that you felt yucky inside, they couldn’t help you, or make you feel better. They couldn’t help you put names to your feelings. 
“That’s right bug,” Alessia hummed, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. She was magic after all and had special powers like all mamas did (Leah was still learning how to use hers). “They just don’t know how to use their words to explain it,” 
“Mama,” You sighed, instantly reaching your arms out to her, and snuggling into her neck when she took you from Mary. “I cheer to make them not boo,”
“I know love bug. You did so well,” She said, keeping her voice soft and beginning to rock you gently. “You were so loud that I couldn’t even hear them,” 
You settled deeper into her, one of your hands twisting the collar of her Kit top, and the other squeezing squirt more securely under your arm as you buried your nose in her neck. 
“Scored goal past Mazza,” You murmured, your voice barely audible from your hiding space. 
“I did,” She hummed, scratching your back as she adjusted your Batman blanket. “Do you wanna score on Mazza too?”
You were quiet for a long second before Alessia felt you yawn against her skin. “No,” 
“Ok love,” She said, as Ella and Mary both awed at how cute you were, and Leah approached. 
She wasn’t surprised that you were tired, considering that you had been up for most of the night, and the night before that. It was always bound to catch up with you. 
“Cuddle with Mama and Leah,” You murmured, blinking out from Alessia’s neck to Leah. “No weave again,” 
“No, no one is leaving,” Leah said, smoothing down your wild curls, and Alessia rocked you a bit more insistently. “We’re both here, and we’re not going anywhere,”
You made a small noise in neither agreement nor disagreement, snuggling impossibly closer to your mama. 
“And we’re not leaving either,” Mary said, wrapping an arm around Alessia’s shoulder as Ella wrapped her arms around your mama’s middle from the other side. “You’re stuck with us for life kid,”
Leah ran her fingers through your hair, and your eyes drooped. 
You felt safe and warm and loved, surrounded by your Mama, and your Leah and Mazza and El. 
They would cheer for you even if the rest of the world booed.
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thethief1996 · 5 months
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Gaza has been completely cut off from the world and from each other. Gazans with Turkish SIM cards have been able to make contact with the outer world and said rescue teams don't know where to go because they don't know where bombings have happened. There's no way to call ambulances. At night, due to the electricity cut, Gazans are left in complete dark only lit up by the airstrikes. They have no way to know what's happening on the next street over. Meanwhile, Israel is publishing AI rendered videos of tunnels under Al-Shifa hospital to manufacture consent for its bombing. Al-Shifa, the largest hospital in Gaza, is housing hundreds of refugees.
This was meant to cut off Palestinians from the world, because we are sympathizing with their first person accounts and it makes Genocide Joe look like a genocide denier when he casts doubt on the death toll (a note on this, Israel has called the Gaza Municipality to threaten them with bombings. They want to erase every record that Palestinians exist in Gaza).
It's not up to us to feel defeated. Israel denies the very existence of Palestinians, and when we turn around and give up hope, we are washing our hands of any work towards liberation and becoming complicit in the zionist narrative. The people of Gaza are alive, the people in the West Bank are alive and the 5.6 million refugees denied the right of return are alive. Mosques are using their minarets to send out help signals. We're being asked to be their voices, so let's be their voices.
Educate yourself. Read into Palestinian history and the occupation. You can't common sense people out of decades of propaganda. If your arguments crumble when a zionist brings up the "disengagement of Gaza", you have to learn more.
Read Decolonize Palestine. They have 15 minute reads that concisely explain the occupation (and its colonial roots) and debunk popular myths, including pinkwashing.
Read on Palestine. Here's an amazing masterpost.
Verso Book Club is giving out free books on Palestine (I personally downloaded Ten Myths about Israel by Ilan Pappe).
Keep yourself updated and share Palestinian voices, looking to inform yourself from the sources. Palestinians have asked of us only that we share, tweet and post, over and over. Muna El-Kurd said every tweet is like a treasure to them, because their voices are repressed on social media and even on this very app. Make it your action item to share something about the Palestinian plight everyday. Here are some resources:
Al Jazeera
Anadolu Agency
Mondoweiss
Boycott Divest Sanction Movement
Palestinian Youth Movement
Mohammed El-Kurd (twitter / instagram)
Al-Shabaka (twitter / instagram)
Mariam Barghouti (twitter / instagram)
Muhammad Shehada (twitter)
Motaz Azaiza (instagram) - reporting directly from Gaza. He's been offline since yesterday. Keep him in your prayers.
Take action. You can participate in boycotts wherever you are in the world, through BDS guidelines. Don't be overwhelmed by gigantic boycott lists. BDS explicitly targets only a few brands which have bigger impact. You can stop consuming from as many brands as you want, though, and by all means feel free to give a 1 star review to McDonalds, Papa John, Pizza Hut, Burger King and Starbucks. Right now, they are focusing on boycotting the following:
Carrefour
HP
Puma
Sabra
Sodastream
Ahava cosmetics
Israeli fruits and vegetables
Push for a cultural boycott - pressure your favorite artist to speak out on Palestine and cancel any upcoming performances on occupied territory (Lorde cancelled her gig in Israel because of this. It works.)
If you can, participate in direct action or donate. Palestine Action works to shut down Israeli weapons factories in the UK and USA, and have successfully shut down one of their firms in London.Some of the activists are going on trial and are calling for mobilizing on court.
Call your representatives. The Labour Party in the UK had an emergency meeting after several councilors threatened to resign if they didn't condemn Israeli war crimes. Calling to show your complaints works, even more if you live in a country that funds genocide.
FOR PEOPLE IN THE USA: USCPR has developed this toolkit for calls, here's a document that autosends emails to your representatives and here's a toolkit by Ceasefire in Gaza NOW!
FOR PEOPLE IN EUROPE: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace targeting the European Parliament
FOR PEOPLE IN THE UK: Friends of Al-Aqsa UK and Palestine Solidarity UK have made toolkits for calls and emails
FOR PEOPLE IN GERMANY: Here's a toolkit to contact your representatives by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN IRELAND: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN POLAND: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN DENMARK: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN SWEDEN: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN FRANCE: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN THE NETHERLANDS: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN GREECE: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN NORWAY: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN ITALY: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN PORTUGAL: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN SPAIN: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN FINLAND: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN AUSTRIA: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN BELGIUM: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN ROMANIA: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN UKRAINE: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace
FOR PEOPLE IN AUSTRALIA: Here's a toolkit by Stand With Palestine
FOR PEOPLE IN CANADA: Here's a toolkit by Indepent Jewish Voices for Canada
Join a protest. Here's a constantly updating list of protests:
Here's a list on tumblr
Global calendar
Another global calendar (go to the instragram of the organizers to confirm your protest)
USA calendar
Australia calendar
There will a National March on Nov 4th in Washington, with the participation of 200+ organizations. If you can, get a group of friends and attend.
Feel free to add more resources. Check the links, there are too many protests and tumblr has a word limit for text posts.
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cheapshrimpysheep · 7 months
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But... We Lost...
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SUMMARY: After many games, you went to see another NRC basketball game. And this was very important. The finals! Against RSA! You, along with the other students, are there, cheering them on. But... the villains always lose in the end... They were all so angry and you went to comfort your crush.
CHARACTERS: Basketball Club 🏀 (Ace, Floyd & Jamil)
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader, Kiss, Comfort
WORD COUNT: An average of 560 words per character.
COMMENTS: If you're interested, I've also written a version where the reader is already in a relationship with one of them and appears in the game dressed in cheerleading attire. It was a request.
👉 Cheering for Him
I hope you enjoy 😉
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CONTEXT: After many games, you went to see another NRC basketball game. And this was very important. The finals! Against Royal Sword Academy! You, along with the other students, are there, cheering them on. The game was extremely close. Everyone could feel the tension and anxiety in the air. And in the final moment, with our hearts in our hands, and like in any D. movie... the villains lose.
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You saw Ace suffering during the game. He wanted to win so badly. After all, it was the final and you were watching. And worse, rooting for him.
As soon as they lost, he turned his back on the audience where you were. And you saw him put his hands on his head and wave his arms in frustration. You see him walk angrily towards the players' entrance/exit. Then you see Jamil stopping him and talking to him. Then the two return to the field. Each shaken in their own way. They already lost, the school couldn't afford a reputation of being bad-losers too.
After the players have retired to the changing rooms, you went outside. You go to a place where you knew the players would pass by.
It was already dark, but you still managed to see him leave alone, without his basketball clothes on and his sports bag hanging over his shoulder. He seems to have seen you from afar too, but then he looked away as if he hadn't seen you and started walking another path, as if he were avoiding you.
You run to him and reach him in a place where the two of you are completely alone. You call his name, he stops
"What?" he says as he turns sharply back to you. “We lost. I know. I don't need your pity, kay?”
You say you don't feel sorry for him. That you're also upset that they lost. That your school lost. But just as you don't feel sorry for them, you don't blame them either. You saw how he and the others were doing their best. How important this game was. And that's why, as his friend, you just want to support him. Maybe even share your frustrations.
“Thanks. But I'm fine. I just want to go to my dorm. Kay?” He tells you. You say that you understand and that if he wanted you could talk tomorrow, or not. just hang out maybe?
He turns and starts walking again, walking away from you. Until he slows down and stops again. He turns around and sees that you didn't go anywhere, that you just stood there. He sighs and walks back to you.
He doesn't say anything, just drops the bag on the floor as he walks over and hugs you. “I'm sorry.” he says in a slightly pouty voice. “I didn't want you to see me lose.” You tell him that it doesn't matter, that you've seen him win so many times. And, mainly, that you've already seen him score and point at you as if he dedicated that to you. And as you showed how happy you were whenever he did that, you heard him mumble something like he was flattered by that.
“Dummy” You hear him murmur. You reply with "You too" and say NRC is going to kick RSA’s butts next time, both with hope and with a little desire for revenge in your voice.
And while you show this slight resentment towards RSA, he pulls away a little and kisses you. Like a thank you for being by my side kiss.
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To make matters worse, Floyd had been kicked out of the game earlier. He was getting so frustrated that they were losing the game that he ended up committing several fouls. And as soon as he saw that NRC had lost, he simply left the field.
Jamil sees him leaving and no one having the courage to stop him. Then he seems to look for someone in the audience and you realize he was looking for you when he spots you and starts running towards you. He perches on the bars and asks you to come closer to him.
He asks you to see if you can calm Floyd down, because they still need to do that thing of saying goodbye to the opponents saying it was a good game. They already lost, the school couldn't afford a reputation of being bad-losers too. And he tells you to look for him on the terrace.
You hurriedly leave and go to the terrace. You find Floyd lying on the floor with his hands behind his head, looking up at the dark sky. You walk calmly until your feet are behind his head. He doesn't move. As if you didn't bother him in the slightest.
“Floyd?” you say cautiously “hum... they still need you to finish the game. You know, the... hum... Good Game thing.”
“I don't want to.” he replied in a monotone.
“I know.” You sigh and kneel down next to him. “Is there anything I can do? You just need to say goodbye to the other players and then you can leave.”
“You can stop annoying me.” he gives you one of those serious, scary looks of his before turning around with his back to you.
You remain silent for a moment, thinking carefully about what to say and what words to use. “How about a deal? I'll leave you alone if you go back and close the game.”
“That's not what I want.” He says, still facing away from you.
“Then, what do you want?”
He lifts his torso and sits down “I wanted to win!” he turns back to you, with his scary face, taller than you. “I wish I had stayed until the end of the game. And I wanted you to see me finish RSA off. If I go back down there, I'm going to squeeze them one by one. Is that what you want?”
You explode saying you just want him to get it over with. You just want him to end that game, vent his frustrations as he sees fit later, and preferably with people other than RSA students. And that you just want to be able to know how to help him. Sometimes it's frustrating just wanting to help him, but having to walk on eggshells to avoid the risk of unintentionally irritating him.
He sees you getting all upset with him in silence and kind of surprised. And that makes him... laugh? And... hug you? “I like seeing you this upset. It's kinda cute.” and then he whispers in your ear: “and hot~” He breaks the hug, and you're all flattered, which makes him laugh again.
“HA HA HA! Well, you did it. I'm back in the good mood. I will end this game. But I want to see you later, do you hear?” He kisses you. And before getting up he says, with your faces very close to each other, and a big smirk on his face: "You better be waiting for me when I get out, Koebi-chan~”
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Jamil is not the type to show his feelings a lot. Especially in these situations, he will hide them perfectly. Then you see him acting like everything is fine. You see him calming down some of his teammates like Ace and Floyd and ending the game with good terms with RSA.
Or at least that's what it appears. Keeping his feelings to himself the way he does, especially these kinds of feelings, is not good for him. That's why you are a little worried.
You wait for him at the exit. It's already night, but you see him leaving alone. He has his hood on, but you'd recognize him no matter what. You run to him and call him. He looks up at you, almost surprised.
“Hi, (Y/N).” he had that light, polite smile he wears regularly. “I hope I didn't disappoint you too much with our defeat. I'm sorry.”
You say you're not disappointed. Of course you're upset that they lost, but not because of them. It happens. But, knowing Jamil, he's probably more upset than you. So you ask him to go with you to a more secluded place. You say you know he's upset and he's just hiding it like he always does. And remembering that Kalim will most likely talk to him about the game when he returns to Scarabia, perhaps it would be better to release his frustrations now.
He remains silent for a moment, as if trying to find a way to say that everything was okay. But you're right. And he trusts you. So, little by little, he explodes.
He starts by saying that of course he is upset, they lost, and worse, against RSA. Then he starts to compare the training they had, how tough they were, compared to what he knew the RSA training was like, as if they were training for a children's game and still won. But the worst of all was when he had to say goodbye to them and the RSA team captain said that "he was glad everyone had fun. After all, the important thing is not winning, but team spirit and bla bla bla..." Do you have any idea how difficult it was to calm down the other NRC players? Make sure Floyd didn't break anyone's bones? Jamil almost punched the wall while venting.
You didn't interfere while he vented, you just listened to him. When he finishes and begins to calm down by taking deep breaths, you speak again. You say that you are also upset, that you really wanted them to win because you saw them playing and they deserved to win. You are frustrated along with them. And then you ask if Jamil feels a little better.
He takes a deep breath "Yes. I'm sorry you saw this, but you were the one who asked." His back was to you. And you say you don't regret it. You never regret it when he's real with you, even if it's showing how frustrated he is.
He turns to you. “Well, in that case, you don't deserve to only see my true side when I'm angry.” There was a smirk on his lips, but his eyes were more tender. He gets closer to you and gently holds you by the waist. He kisses your cheek. “Thank you, I needed that.” And if you allow it, he will kiss your lips afterwards.
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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theawfuledges · 5 months
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*casually tosses this into the pile with all the other pale-haired assholes i’ve written*
for all the things my hands have held (jareth the goblin king x gender neutral!reader, labyrinth)
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“Five hours.”
His fingertips curl idly around the crystal sphere cupped in his palm, his body a languid sprawl atop the lip of the labyrinth.
“Damn,” you mutter, curling dirty palms around your knees as you attempt to catch your breath. Five hours, huh? Better than the four hours it had taken Jareth to find you last time, or the two before that, but still. 
You feel the weight of the Goblin King’s fierce gaze baring down upon your bent head. “You’re filthy.”
You scowl, dusting off your clothes with a few swipes of impatient hands. “I fell,” you return sourly. The distant sound of wingbeats had startled you into a run and a twisting root in your path had sent you sprawling straight onto the dusty floor of the labyrinth. “We agreed on no magic.”
“You reneged on our agreement,” Jareth returns coolly, his sharp eyes darting down to your hand. “And so I followed suit. Hoggle’s penchant for baubles remains, I see. How fortunate for you.”
You tuck your hand behind your back, though the futility of the gesture has been made more than apparent. “No magic was what we agreed on,” you persist, feeling the missing weight of the ring you’d given Hoggle prickling along your nerves. “Not that I couldn’t ask for help.”
Jareth scoffs, the crystal sphere disappearing from his palm in a blink. With a move far more graceful than any you could reasonably perform, he leaps from the lip of the labyrinth and lands before you in a whirl of obsidian robes. They settle about his form like a pair of great wings, and despite yourself, your heart gives a resounding thump at the sight. 
The Goblin King holds out a gloved hand. “Let me see.” 
You think about refusing, but ultimately slip your hand into his. You’re caked in dust and dirt from your mad dash through the labyrinth - and your subsequent tumble - but Jareth seems to care little about the filth upon your skin marring his own. He merely studies your fingers and the empty space where a ring had once sat, an indistinguishable expression upon his handsome face.
“You’ll be needing a new ring, I take it,” he murmurs, thumbing at the strip of bare skin. Even through the barrier of his gloves, the warmth of his skin sinks into yours, and you struggle against the urge to press closer. His nose wrinkles. “And to bathe,” he mutters, ignoring the sour look the quip earns him. “Come along then.”
Before you can protest, his robes have whipped about you and spirited you away. When next you’re aware, you find yourself standing within the castle, the gently steaming basin that houses the Goblin King’s private bath filling the room with steam. 
It takes you a moment to right yourself, Jareth’s preferred method of travel never failing to leave your mind spinning. By the time your stomach has ceased its tumbling, Jareth has divested himself of his robes and gloves, his slender fingers working at the ruffled sleeves of his tunic and exposing lean forearms to the humid air.
His expectations are clear, and with a thudding pulse, you turn away from his gaze and set about wriggling free of your dirt-laden clothes.
It isn’t the first time the Goblin King has seen you in a state of undress, nor is it the first time you’ve been within these chambers together, and yet your face burns as you ease within the warmth of the steaming bath, the heat an immediate balm to the aches and pains you’d sustained from your long trek through the labyrinth. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a pair of goblins making off with your dirty clothing. “Don’t - !” you start, only to be stalled by a wave of Jareth’s hand.
“They’ll be returned once they’ve been rid of the muck you soiled them with,” he tells you, a slim brow arched as your expression softens into relief. “Though I cannot fathom why you continue to persist in wearing nothing else.”
“I like my clothes,” you return, your lips twitching as Jareth’s brows furrow in annoyance. He had tried time and time again to ply you with the ruffled and bejeweled trappings of his own vast closet, but you preferred the simplicity and comfort of the clothing you had arrived in, clothing that Jareth continued to scoff at but would dutifully return to you after they’d been cleaned or mended. 
Such generosity was to be hoarded like gold from your arrogant and selfish King, particularly when they arrived without fanfare. There was little you could do if Jareth chose to take those last trappings of home and spirit them away as swiftly as he’d spirited you, and yet a part of you knew he never would.
The thought warms you. You duck beneath the surface of the water to scrub the dirt and grit from your face, and when you resurface it’s to the sight of Jareth warming a sweet-smelling oil between his bare palms, keen eyes catching yours and urging you to his side.
His palms are warm and smooth against your arm when you present it to him, the oil sinking into your skin and filling the air with the scent of lavender and sweet herbs. You find yourself watching his face as he attends to you, the way his eyes follow the ascension of his palms along your wrist and forearm, the way his lips part as he breathes.
The ritual is a familiar one. Many of your excursions into the labyrinth had ended just like this, with the Goblin King ridding you of the day’s grime, fingers sure and strong against your arms, your shoulders, your scalp. 
The game you played was a simple one: to escape his reach, if only to prove that you could, and to reap the reward he had promised you in return - a single wish. 
“Whatever you desire,” he had vowed to you, his voice a silken drawl each time you stood before the entrance to the labyrinth. 
He always found you. Whether it be by magic or by might, trickery or luck, you found yourself in the arms of the Goblin King no matter how cleverly you played his game, and yet the disappointment of failure never seemed to strike you here, not with Jareth’s fingers dragging scented oils along your skin. 
“Tell me.” You blink at the sound of his voice, tilting your head back to peer into his winsome face. The wall of stone at your back is cool despite the heat of the water, but its chill is not what sends a shiver down your spine. No, that honor belongs to your host, for even perched upon the lip of the steaming basin, his hands and arms bare, Jareth exudes all of the charm and power of a fierce King. “What will you wish for?”
You chew on the inside of your cheek, the words lingering on the tip of your tongue. Secrets were to be guarded fiercely within the labyrinth, lest they be used against you, but you doubted that Jareth had asked for such a paltry purpose as that. No, you can guess the direction of his thoughts well enough, having spent enough time in the man’s presence to know how his mind worked, the depths of his desires and the fierceness of his rage, should they be on the cusp of slipping from his grasp.  
He wonders if you’ll wish for your freedom. You can see it in the stillness of his gaze, the firm line of his lips, the furrow of his brow. You can feel it in the drag of his fingers, warm and damp against the hollow of your throat.
You press into his touch, and you tell him, “A kiss.” 
Jareth’s brows twitch, his sharp gaze gaining a new edge as he peers down into your face, searching, perhaps, for a lie, and finding none.
“And if your wish were granted?” His voice has grown low, little more than a rasp, and his touch trails along your throat, feeling your pulse in the pads of his fingers. “Here, now?”
You suck in a breath, holding it in the cage of your chest before it releases, thick. “I would ask for another,” you confess, and the slow curl of Jareth’s lips sends heat spilling into your belly. 
The scent of herbs and lavender makes your head spin, but it’s Jareth’s hands curling around your cheeks that makes your pulse run. He turns you to face him, fingertips wrapping around your jaw, and you catch the brilliant gleam of satisfaction in his eyes before he dips his head to yours. 
You expect his kiss to be fierce, harsh, all sharp edges and hunger, but the Goblin King takes your mouth with a softness that makes you tremble, his lips moving gently against yours, tilting, parting, tasting of skin and heat and magic.
Lost beneath his touch, your wet fingers curl within his ruffled collar, eager and clumsy. You can do little else from the warmth of the bath, its waters lapping gently against the walls of the basin. Jareth laughs at your desperation, a soft, low rumble against your lips, and flicks his tongue against your own, tasting you, his hands dragging along your sides and wrapping, firm and possessive, around your hips. 
“And if I grant you another?” he murmurs against your lips, gaze sharp and bright and vicious. “What then? What more shall you ask of me, I wonder?”
“Another,” you moan, the barest graze of his mouth against yours flooding your veins with want. Your fingers delve within the loosened folds of his collar, seeking warmth, seeking skin. “And another, and another - “
Jareth kisses you silent, kisses you deep. You feel greedy, gluttonous, eager to consume and be consumed in turn, but any shame you might feel is tempered by your surety that Jareth would have you no other way - bare, hungry. 
His.
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heartfullofleeches · 9 months
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Actor Reader has totally sane and normal(ish) fans - until they take on the role of a deranged, lovesick and deadly stalker in an upcoming thriller film. Seeing their favorite innocent asssweetheart who was know for their rolls as the quirky best friend or timid love interest as the masked maniac after the literal heart of their on-screen darling drives them while. Actor Reader does best as a method actor and has a dear friend that definitely isn't obsessed with them and let's them perform on them whenever they please - the buried roots of their love for the actor sprouting as they hit so close to home without realizing. Poor babe gets sent addresses and security lock codes infan letters to do with as they please.
Actor Reader: haha.... HAHAHA.... Sweetheart - you mind if I call you sweetheart? Doesn't matter how you feel anymore after everything you put me through. All these years I've given to you and you've given nothing in return.... Not anymore, baby..... Hehe, so how was that? Got a little carried away, but - are you okay?
Yan Friend, on the verge of tears: You haven't been reading my diary have you?
-
Yan Fan: Liking creepy slashers is disgusting!
[Later, taking a picture with actor Reader does in full costume]
Actor Reader: C'mon, Sweetheart - smile pretty for the camera.
Yan Fan: ... This has awakened several things within me. That aside, can you wrap your hand around my throat for the next picture.
-
[Cue the big premier where all actor reader's fans are watching the big climax where they're stabbed in the chest by the lead role]
Actor Reader: Sweetheart...don't you realize everything I've done is for you? I just wanted to picture a reality where we had a chance together, without anyone getting in our way...... You ungrateful bitch. Don't leave me.... Don't leave me!
[The theater breaks out in heartbroken sobs as their angel falls motionless on the kitchen floor.]
"I'd let you kidnap me!"
"I don't even have any friends, but I'll make some if it'd make you that jealous!"
-
[Actor Reader comes home to find a fan handcuffed to their bedframe]
Actor Reader: W-who are you? What are you doing in my house?!
Yan Fan: Why, you don't have a basement so I thought the bedroom would be the next best thing. I won't try to run away from you like they did, but if I did you'd punish anyway me right?.... Hey - don't run off! I threw away the keys!
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marlinspirkhall · 5 months
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Humans sending out signal after signal, message after message, space probes, emails, photos, light shows, intergalactic fireworks, all in the hope that they're not alone: Please reply, please reply, please reply, ple–
Aliens, screeching across the universe in a brand new FTL ship: CAN YOU SHUT UP? WE GOT YOUR FIRST ONE THOUSAND MESSAGES, DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND HOW BIG SPACE IS?
Humans: oh my goooooosh, hi
Humans: Did you invent faster than light travel just for us? 🥺
Aliens: NO!!!
SETI: Radio message received.
Radio message: We are receiving you. We have decided to answer you in your own language, and–
SETI: New radio message received.
Aliens: Oh no.
Radio message: We have received your previous messages pertaining to life on Earth, and have included our own data packet about life on Big Tree in return. We named our planet before we learned it was only 30% arboreal. Thank you for the golden disc, it was extremely tasty. Haha. Just kidding.
SETI: Data packet downloaded. Decrypting...
SETI: New radio message received.
Radio message: As previously stated, we are receiving your messages and your gifts. We took a photo of our planet with our own photo-capture device, as we were unhappy with the one you provided.
SETI: Data packet update: Warning: Several terrabytes of information may be corrupted.
SETI: New radio message received.
Radio message: This is the Generation Ship Tree Hollow. My designation is Captain Root-Skygazer. Our people have instructed us to fly ahead and communicate with you when we reached the thirty-year marker, as these messages are likely to reach you faster. They request that you stop broadcasting messages with the subject line: 'Oh, how woeful it is to be alone in an uncaring universe (and other similar poems)' because it frightens the children and makes our scientists deeply existential. I, personally, am partial to episodes of M star A star S star H. It has been of great interest to learn historical facts about the longest Earth conflict of your common era. I miss my home, and I am saddened that I will never see yours. This ship has a self-sustaining ecosystem of plants native to our planet, and a crew manifest of one hundred and fifty-seven. The replacement generation currently numbers one hundred and seventeen.
Radio message: Hey, Ball Of Dirt, it's Big Tree again. Lose our number, would you? There must be some other semi-evolved space aemoba you can bother. (Several words untranslateable)
Aliens: Yeah, so your answering machine is going to be like that for a while–
Humans: What was that part about a Generation Ship?
Aliens: We were hoping you could tell us that, actually. We lost contact with them after the 200 year marker.
Radio message: This is the generation ship Tree Hollow. My designation is Captain Cradleroot. Captain Root-Skygazer was my grandfather. Inspired by the speeches of your contemporary leader, Ronald Reagan, I decided to restructure the existing system here which allowed crewmembers to eat as they required. Under this new system, we award tokens to whom we feel has done the most valuable work, and they can redistribute those to the hungry if they wish. But they do not. However, I believe that [...]
Humans:
Aliens:
Humans:
Aliens: This is all your fault, by the way.
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cultofdixon · 4 months
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Huddling for warmth
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • A blizzard occurred during the harsh winter after the farm and before the prison. You and Daryl got trapped in it and things didn’t go perfectly…• ANGST/SFW/NSFW - Nudity • TW: Hyperthermia / Minor Injury / Anxiety / Scars / Illness
Requested by: Anon
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When the fire happened, everything changed. It came naturally that Rick became the leader of this group but everything was icy.
Now they were starting all over in finding a place to call home…or at least a temporary shelter for the upcoming winter
“Here” Y/N shrugged off her jacket giving it to Carl for an extra layer of warmth as the weather was getting colder for winter.
“She’s going to freeze to death if she keeps giving her coats to Carl and Lori” Glenn makes the comment to Maggie after she finishes getting a fire going in a house they were holding up in for the night. Little did he know the archer was listening to such.
About an hour passed and Rick returns with a deer that Daryl obviously got. But they also went through a few homes and Daryl approached Y/N who was leaning on Carol near the fire, dropping a jacket over her shoulders and didn’t stay for her to get a word in.
But he saw the smile on her face and that caused an old familiar feeling to burn in his chest.
“The winter will get worse and we should scavenge a few places before holding up for a good month” Hershel tells Rick while looking out at the snow that started to fall.
“I’ll get Glenn, Maggie, and Carol to come check a few houses with me. You and Lori can keep an eye on the rest” Rick stated adjusting his jacket and giving Daryl a look. “Think you can hunt some more game before the weather gets thicker?”
“I’ll try but the second the tracks ain’t clear, I’m coming—-“
“You ain’t going alone. Take Y/N. She has huntin’ experience. She’s hunted with you before” True. Before Rick returned from presumed dead, Daryl went hunting with his brother and the previous hunter before the Dixons came…also known as Y/N. But she didn’t join him on the trip before he heard his brother was left on a roof.
Y/N was ahead of Daryl following tracks they’ve caught on at the edge of the tree line by the neighborhood they’re held up in. He half expected her to be a chatterbox like how she was before the barn fire. But something always had to be off.
Before he could say anything to her, she readied her hunting bow and landed the shot on the unlucky rabbit.
Opportunity “Yea ever heard of a lucky rabbit’s foot?”
“Yeah, but doesn’t it usually have like…an amethyst with it?”
“Thought it was an amulet” Daryl questioned only to get a short lived laugh out of Y/N causing a hint of a smirk on his face.
She rises to her feet with the rabbit in hand brushing the hair out of her face to look at the archer. “You want the foot?”
“Sayin’ I need some good luck?”
“Dunno. You’re the one that said it” Y/N kept a smile on her face that soon faded when the cold breeze was a bit more intense than she expected. “Hershel said winters will be bad. Just. Didn’t expect that”
What was just a breeze seemed to pick up the more they trekked along in the forest…
“Have the winters always gone from mild to extreme?”
“You aren’t originally from Georgia?” Daryl brushed his hair back when the wind blew harder than before.
“That a deal breaker?” Y/N jokes only to suddenly trip and fall into the snow that’s collected since the morning. “Jeez. Maybe I need that lucky rabbit’s foot”
The crimson in the white became clear to Daryl as he knelt down to make sure she didn’t hurt herself to a certain degree. Thankfully just a scratch from the tree root they couldn’t see in the snow, which started to concern Daryl with how the weather started to pick up the more they were out there.
“We should head back. Or try to find our way back”
“Before it gets worse?” She added while cleaning up the blood with her bandana as it’s going to have to do until they can get a better look at it. “It’s already there”
“Our foot prints got swept” Daryl frowns knowing that would likely happen. He rose to his feet helping Y/N up as he tried to take a moment to listen to the surrounding but even the wind was picking up as much as the snow fall.
It got to blizzard level pretty quick.
“This is getting bad” Y/N had to shout for Daryl to register anything, but as they continued on through the blind scenery…the sound of something moving through the snow caught both their attention until the archer turned around.
No Y/N.
Daryl’s panic started to set in because on top of not seeing his surroundings. He had zero clue on where Y/N could’ve fallen or been dragged to.
The hiss of the wind continued to throw the archer off when he followed the trail before it disappeared right away. He quickly realized when he slipped falling on his ass that she had fallen…but fallen into the river they passed before the blizzard became more prominent.
“We have to be careful, Y/N” Daryl states gesturing to the river they were currently passing when the snow started to pick up in inches.
Y/N laughs at the man. “Okay captain obvious. We aren’t going to be able to see it later if this blizzard picks up”
“Hopefully not. We’ll be fine”
But we aren’t fucking fine! Daryl thought as he carefully made his descend toward the river and while the rushing water picked up in his ears…he couldn’t hear anyone.
“Y/N!” He screams and was about to step in the water when something grabbed at his ankle.
The new instinct was to take his knife out and plunge it into the water skull, but when he knelt down it came clear.
“Holy fuck. Thought I’d have to go swimming”
“I-I-It’s a b-b-bit c-cold” Y/N coughed out a bit letting go of his person to lay in the snow like before. The moment she felt into the water, she was wide awake and knew she had to get out. But the second her soaked body met the cold harsh weather, it brought her to this semi frozen weak state. Crazy how quick the body reacts.
“Can yea move?” Daryl shouts only to ensure that she can hear him but with no response only shaking breathing he could barely hear, he brought his arms under her armpits starting to drag her to the main path out of the ditch by the riverbank. “Think warm thoughts” he kept repeating even if every fiber of her being wanted to curl up and scream.
Y/N wanted to scream when the cold only got worse for her as Daryl brought one of her arms around his shoulders.
“We need to hide out somewhere”
“F-Fast” She gripped onto him trying not to succumb to the cold making her falter in her steps.
Daryl tried his best not to stumble because of how she was. His anxiety eventually got the best of him and he didn’t care if she’d protest getting him wet given her soaked person when he picked her up bridal style to get a faster pace going.
The two ended up in a small house nowhere near the neighborhood they were originally in. There was no time to question how they even got far from where the rest of the group is. Daryl had to barricade the doors to the room they were in and try to get a fire going to help warm up Y/N as she was placed on the couch in the living room shivering.
“R-Remind me, n-n-never t-t….s-shit” Y/N groans pulling at the soaked clothes on her person wanting to take them off as she hated the uncomfortable sticky feeling. But there was more going on and it started to concern her.
And the man that was currently trying to start a fire in the fireplace knowing he might have to move Y/N closer to the fire. The second it started, Daryl rose to his feet rounding the couch and pushing it closer enough for her to feel it. But even then it didn’t work in its entirety.
“Gotta strip yea”
“W-Woah. B-Bu…Buy m-m-me dinner f-first” Y/N scoffs in a playful manner listening to the man groan before he went further into the house scavenging for anything and found a blanket he had to shake out before even thinking of wrapping Y/N in it.
Daryl set the blanket on the arm rest. “Strip. I won’t—-“
“N-Need h-he—help” She coughed slightly after and Daryl instinctively pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. She was starting to get warm and not in a good way.
“Fine but I need your—-“
“F-Fuck Daryl! I-I-It’s fine!” Y/N snapped gripping the back of the couch to get her to sit up as Daryl brought himself beside her helping her get out of the wet clothes.
Her clothes laid in a pile beside the couch as Daryl was about to straighten them out close to the fire to try and dry, Y/N pulled the blanket over her shoulders more but manage to trap Daryl by bringing herself into his lap. She couldn’t speak given once the clothes were off she was even colder. The blanket wasn’t going to instantly help and the archer had been inside for some time that the snow melted off of his person so that she could do what she was currently doing.
The archer froze when she climbed into his lap curling up against him taking in his warmth and tugging the blanket to cover every exposed bit on her person. He didn’t look at her, for a sense of privacy. Not that she cared. There was something else but now wasn’t the time. Daryl carefully wrapped his arms around her bringing her close and eventually shifting his body to lay down with her trapped between him and the couch.
“…please pull through” Daryl whispers hoping she would respond even if it’s intentions were for her not to hear. But given she hasn’t said anything in a minute, got him worrying again. “Y/N?” He shifted slightly going to check her pulse but just the smallest movement jostled her eyes to open with a glare before closing once more and hiding her face in the crook of his neck.
Y/N went in and out most of the night but her shivering stopped after a couple hours. She clung onto Daryl with a bruising grip taking in all the warmth he gave…he didn’t dare letting go for whatever reason afraid she freeze all over again.
But after being in that state for two days and her clothes dried eventually with the help of the fire…Daryl let go to help her redress keeping his focus on her actions as she fumbled trying to work the buttons of her flannel that he eventually helped her.
The archer wore his crossbow on his chest, the rabbits on his belt, and carried Y/N on his back still wrapped in the blanket on their way back to where the others were.
About halfway there, Rick and Glenn met them as they had come to a decision recently to go out and search for them once the blizzard passed…
“Is she okay?”
“She’s sick” You don’t survive freezing temperatures without a cold or flu to follow.
“Is she bit?” Glenn gestures to her ankle wrapped in bandages Daryl had.
“No, she fell. Fell once before falling into the river” Daryl states walking passed to make it to the house as the two who joined them kept an eye on their surroundings.
“You’re lucky we found some Tylenol on the run we went on when y’all went hunting” Rick states. “Should help with the fever”
“Hershel is gonna want to isolate her when we get back. Just in case—-“
“Don’t yea dare finish that, kid” Daryl snapped while pushing the door open with his foot as Rick took care of keeping it open for him to come through.
Out of instinct, Hershel rose to his feet gesturing to the other room to keep Y/N in even if it was the kitchen and Maggie laid a blanket on the floor before Daryl laid her down.
“Wish I had a thermometer to get an actual reading, but she definitely feels warm. I’m guessing you held up somewhere to try and warm her up to avoid hyperthermia” Hershel gave Daryl a look listening to him hum in response. “Well yea did good, son. Kept her from getting worse”
When she woke, Hershel got her to take some of the medicine they collected along with some water before leaving her to sleep once more. Daryl waited til the old man left the room before pushing the table in the doorway in case of emergencies. He sets his crossbow down against the wall kneeling beside her adjusting the blanket to cover her more watching her roll over to face him.
“Hey…”
“You can speak clearly now” Daryl jokes about the shivering stuttering mess she was before and that got a small laugh from her.
“Thanks for keeping me alive…” Y/N whispered shifting a bit to get comfortable on the floor as Daryl gently brushes away the hair in her face.
“Had to…I wanted to…I needed to” He whispered to her as he brought himself to sit on the floor keeping close to her watching her extend her hand from under the blanket to hold his.
Daryl stayed with her the entire time…the entire time.
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sleeplesssmoll · 4 months
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Vertin's personality and traits based on in-game context.
Contains Spoilers.
Will update when I find more tidbits about our beloved Timekeeper.
Updated: March 15 2024
Vertin sucks at math.
Not much to say here. Although, this is another difference between her and Sonetto, who loves math. I hope they do something with this later because it'd be fun.
Vertin is 16 confirmed
While this isn't a personality trait, I did see some debate about her age since it wasn't officials stated until now and it was assumed through context. Prisoner in the Cave explicitly confirms her age. Vertin became Timekeeper when she was 12 and has been the the TK for the past 4 years.
Vertin is a pianist and a painter.
You can see a piano in the back of her office in the Suitcase by the window. It makes sense in regards to Vertin's musically inclined Arcanum. There's an easel and stool in her office too. She doesn't merely collect art, she creates it. Vertin also owns a camera (official artwork released) too and mentions her photography in the begining, so this isn't new but I thought I should add it.
Vertin's still playful under all her composure.
We know baby Vertin was a little menace, but we can still see a spark of that mischief in her later years. For example, Vertin slapping a fake mustache on Regulus to avoid Sonetto really captures this. We can tell from other characters' voice lines that Vertin will most likely play along with their shenanigans. She'll chirp like a bird in response to Rabies talking about his bird friends (Wilderness interaction). She'll help Sonetto during hide and seek (Wilderness). She watches movies with Eternity and An An Lee. X asks her for help with his projects. Going through her crew's voice lines really paints a better picture of how she interacts with others. The voice lines point to someone playful and curious when she's not in work mode.
Vertin was a gremlin.
Vertin's love language is giving.
We know baby Vertin loved to give gifts to a reluctant Sonetto, but that part of her still exists. She tried to grant everyone's last wishes during the 1929 Storm. We also know she gives Lilya alcohol as a gift upon her return from 1929. She is also very direct. We see her ask people what they want or what can she do for them throughout the story. To expand further, you could say she likes fulfilling people's desires instead of limiting it to material gifts. We can see more of instances of this during the Green Lake event, especially in the way she protects Jessica from the Foundation. She also tried to get Regulus funding for a ship. I love the Suitcase Dad meme, but it's rooted in nuggets of truth.
She was a crappy student, yet she was also a resourceful gremiln. Vertin never liked the institution! Honor student? Top of the class? Never. Teachers are filled with that "Godamnit Vertin" energy toward her too. I hope we see more gremlin energy in the future.
One-sided childhood friends.
Vertin is a collector.
Sonetto and Vertin were desk mates but Sonetto couldn't stand Vertin when they were kids. She even tried to avoid Vertin at times but Vertin persisted with her gifts. We can see this in the hallway scene. Sonetto's about to change routes to avoid Vertin but Vertin called out to her to give her a frog she caught. Kinda funny how Sonetto can't stand Vertin but also can't resist her when they were kids. Vertin and Matilda were actually closer back then. Well, at least until the tear gas incident. Sonetto changed after Vertin was hurt and the rascal wasn't around to bother her. I feel like this tidbit says a lot about Vertin and her influence on people.
Baby Vertin collected rocks, bugs, and frogs. Adult Vertin collects painting and mementos of people she's lost. Things were simpler as a kid.
Vertin is stronger than she looks.
She was a wild child and she's still got it years later. Vertin can run for long periods of time, endure injuries, and climb obstacles. That, and she's still essentially a child solider. We see her hold her own when she needs to fight solo doing stuff like dodging bullets. Sonetto and Matilda also exhibit these freakishly athletic traits, especially Sonetto.
Vertin befriends people in every Era, despite knowing she'll lose them.
Compared to the other children raised by the Foundation, Vertin's traveled the world and witnessed loss in every Era. This opens doors to a whole new set of questions. How did she change over time? How do the Arcanists she recruited before the story treat her? Did she have crushes in previous Eras? Were the oranges just as bitter? Vertin seems to get close to people very easily and doesn't build walls around herself despite the trauma. You'd think someone who's lost so much would stop trying to get close to people, but she doesn't.
Vertin is optimistic.
Even as a child, she was full of hope. It's why she fights for the future and is a core part of her personality. She needs to fight for all those she lost and stop the Storm from taking more lives.
Vertin gets quiet when embarrassed/shy.
She'll blush and fall silent, but she doesn't stammer or go all tsundere. We can see this in voice lines. Sonetto's high praises make her cover her face with her hands. Eternity gets a reaction out of her when she holds her hand. She also blushed when she received surprise smooch and fell silent.
Vertin has a unique scar on her back.
Vertin is a tactile person.
Arcana mentions the scar after Vertin was shot multiple times in the back by Schneider. It's a big scar and new theories about the scar are ongoing and interesting!
In several voice line interactions, Vertin is patting people's heads or holding their hands. Not all her crew mates are on board with it, some seem confused, and others play along. We can also see examples in story like her handing Sonetto a frog while gently grasping her hand or her taking Regulus's hand to lead her into the Suitcase. Here is a post with the evidence to back this claim.
Vertin sucks at arcanum but her deep understanding of arcanum is uncanny.
The story mentions her weak arcanum skills throughout the story. They really want you to remember this. Also, her arcanum didn't manifest until sometime after the break away event but before the events in the prologue. During her stay in the guardhouse, she doubts if she's even an arcanist and mentions her arcanum has yet to manifest, which is wild. Smoltin is fighting with her tiny hands and wit in this chapter. However, in the prologue it's mentioned Vertin's understanding of arcanum and her perception makes her unique amongst arcanists. She's also considered more "rationale" than other arcanists. You can read more about this here.
Vertin is stealthy.
Smoltin sneaks around to play outside. She steals food for herself and the Ring from the Staff Canteen, which has better quality food than what the kids get. This tells me she's done this before. Adult Vertin also sneaks around the Walden to find Schneider. She makes maps, tracks guard routes, and avoids detection since whe was a kid.
Tooth Fairy was one of the few Foundation members who cared about Vertin.
Tooth Fairy is the one who gave Smoltin the toffees (chit chat voicelines). She also covered for Vertin on a few occasions to protect her from punishment. She remembers Vertin faking her illness to skip class, but her bruises and wounds were real. The Foundation does have a few kind hearts that genuinely care about the children. The causes of Vertin's injuries is up to speculation.
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Text
Whispers of Desire
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pairing: Aemond Targaryen x twin!reader
summary: Finally betrothed, the twins are more than happy.
Word count: 2,9K
Warnings: smut, P in V, Daddy kink, Orgasm denial
The Red Keep in King’s Landing stood as a majestic backdrop to the grand feast held in honor of the engagement between Aemond Targaryen and his twin sister, Aerra. The Great Hall was resplendent with crimson and gold decorations, echoing the colors of their House. Lords and ladies from across the Seven Kingdoms had gathered to celebrate this momentous occasion.
Aerra, the lively and effervescent twin, was at the heart of the festivities, as always. Her fiery charisma and vivacity had the guests enthralled. She moved gracefully through the hall, engaging in lively conversations, twirling on the dance floor, and enchanting all who crossed her path.
Aemond, on the other hand, couldn’t hide the green-eyed monster that had taken root within him. He watched as Aerra shared laughter and danced with lords and knights, and a deep sense of jealousy consumed him. His martial prowess and fierce determination had earned him respect, but tonight, it felt as if all eyes were on his sister.
Rhaenyra, their elder sister, noticed Aemond’s growing frustration. She excused herself from her own admirers and approached him. “Aemond, you seem troubled. Is something amiss?”
He sighed, his violet eyes betraying his inner turmoil. “Rhaenyra, I can’t help but be jealous of Aerra. It feels as if I’m always in her shadow.”
Rhaenyra placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Aemond, jealousy is a dangerous beast. Remember that Aerra’s light does not diminish yours. You are both unique, with strengths that complement each other. While she shines in the spotlight, your strength is the shield that protects our family.”
Aemond’s gaze softened, and he nodded in acknowledgment. “You’re right, Rhaenyra. I should be happy for her. It’s just that… I’ve always felt the weight of our family’s expectations.”
Rhaenyra smiled warmly. “We all do, dear brother. But together, as Targaryens, we are stronger. Our bond is unbreakable, and we support each other through every challenge.”
As they returned to the feast, Aemond’s jealousy gave way to a newfound appreciation for his sister’s charisma and an understanding that their unity was their greatest strength. The celebration continued with renewed joy and harmony, showcasing the resilience and power of House Targaryen within the hallowed halls of the Red Keep.
The Red Keep’s Great Hall buzzed with merriment as Aerra danced with several lords who had come to celebrate her engagement. Her laughter rang out like music, drawing the attention of everyone present. She moved gracefully from one partner to another, her vibrant presence captivating them all.
Aemond, watching from a distance, couldn’t shake the growing unease that gnawed at him. As he saw lords vying for Aerra’s attention on the dance floor, jealousy flared within him. He had always been fiercely protective of his twin sister, and the thought of sharing her with others grated on him.
Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Aemond left his spot and approached the dance floor. His commanding presence was undeniable, and the lords who had been dancing with Aerra took a step back, yielding the floor to him.
Without a word, Aemond extended his hand to Aerra, his violet eyes locked onto hers. “May I have this dance, sister?”
Aerra’s sapphire eyes widened in surprise, but she accepted his hand with a smile. They moved onto the dance floor, and as the music swayed around them, their movements became a silent conversation of emotions.
As Aemond and Aerra danced together, the tension between them crackled like wildfire. The music’s sultry rhythm seemed to mirror the heat that had built up between the twins. Their bodies moved in sync, but their words were laced with desire and jealousy.
“Aerra,” Aemond purred, his voice low and seductive, “you’re quite the enchantress tonight. You revel in the attention, don’t you?”
Aerra’s sapphire eyes darkened with a mix of emotions, her pulse quickening at her brother’s provocative tone. She leaned in closer, her voice a sensuous whisper, “Why, Aemond, jealous, are we? Perhaps you’re just not used to sharing.”
Aemond’s jealousy had given way to a more primal desire, and he pulled Aerra even closer, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace. “Sharing is not something I’m accustomed to, especially when it comes to you.”
Aerra’s laughter was a seductive melody in his ear. “Oh, Aemond, there’s no need to be possessive. I’m yours, always.”
Their dance became a provocative battle of wills, a dance of desire and longing. Aemond’s jealousy had transformed into a heated passion, and as the night wore on, they continued to dance, their movements filled with sensual tension and unspoken promises.
Their hearts racing with a mix of excitement and forbidden desire, managed to slip away from the raucous feast unnoticed. The castle’s winding corridors provided cover for their secret escape.
Aerra couldn’t contain her giggles, the thrill of their clandestine rendezvous making her feel like a teenager in love. She tugged at Aemond’s hand, urging him further into the shadows.
Aemond, usually so stern and composed, had a rare hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. The tension that had consumed him earlier had given way to the intoxicating anticipation of what was to come. He pushed Aerra gently against the wall, their bodies pressed close, and his lips descended to meet hers.
The kiss was tender yet filled with an intensity that had simmered beneath the surface all night. Aerra’s fingers tangled in Aemond’s platinum blonde locks as she deepened the kiss, their tongues dancing in a passionate, unspoken declaration of their desires.
Aemond’s hands explored her curves, their desire for each other burning brighter with each passing second. The abandoned hallway became their secret haven, a place where their love and longing could be expressed without restraint.
As the kiss deepened, Aerra pulled away slightly, her breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps. She looked into Aemond’s eyes, her voice barely above a whisper. “Aemond, I’ve always wanted you.”
Aemond’s response was a heated kiss, a promise that their secret rendezvous was only the beginning of a night filled with passion, desire, and the breaking of boundaries they had once thought were unbreakable.
Aemond’s kisses, like soft feathers, trailed down Aerra’s neck, igniting a passionate fire within her. Her body trembled with desire as his strong arms enveloped her waist, guiding her down the dimly lit corridor.
Lost in the intoxication of his touch, Aerra barely registered their surroundings. She allowed herself to be led by Aemond’s tender yet passionate ministrations, every kiss sending shivers down her spine.
As they reached a doorway, Aemond gently guided Aerra into the room. Her senses were overwhelmed by the pleasure of his kisses, and she remained blissfully unaware of their surroundings.
It was only when they were inside, and Aemond closed the door behind them with a soft click, that Aerra finally realized where they were. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she looked around to find herself standing in the small council meeting room of the Red Keep.
The room was dimly lit, with the long wooden table and high-backed chairs creating an unexpected backdrop for their passionate encounter. Aerra’s cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire as she met Aemond’s gaze.
Aemond, his own desire evident in his platinum blonde hair tousled from their passionate kisses, gave her a mischievous smile. “Well, it seems we’ve found an unexpected venue for our rendezvous.”
Aerra chuckled softly, her embarrassment giving way to a sense of adventure. “I suppose we have, dear brother. Let’s make the most of it.”
And with that, they allowed their passion to consume them once more, their kisses and desires filling the small council meeting room with a fervor that surpassed the boundaries of decorum.
Their lips met in a slow and passionate kiss, a sweet exchange of longing and devotion. The small council room, once a place of politics and strategy, was transformed into their private sanctuary, where their love and desires could flourish.
As their kiss deepened, they lost themselves in each other’s arms, their hearts entwined in a dance of love and romance. The room, with its grand table and high-backed chairs, bore witness to a different kind of council—one where the language spoken was that of love, trust, and unbreakable bonds.
Aemond eager to be close to his soon to be wife wasted no time to push her against the table, his lips attacking the sensitive skin under her jaw with bites and kisses to sooth the pain. Aerra's breathing was already laboured, her nibble fingers running through his hair that was in it's usual half up do, well not anymore.
"Aemond" She whispered, his name sounded like the sweetest tart rolling off her tongue. Aemond began pulling her dress up desperate to feel her skin. This was not the first they had been intimate and surely never will be the last.
"Daor" No. Aemond breathed in her ear. His fingers finally touching the skin of her thigh. He ran his thumb around the edge of her stocking before pushing it down fully. Aerra gasped as the cold air hit her legs causing goosebumbs.
"Kepa" Father/Daddy. The twins were twisted, that was no shock. The father they had was anything but a father, he was more of a stranger to them, they were shocked he even showed his face at the feast- most likely because Rhaenyra was there.
Aemond groped her thigh so tightly it will surely leave his fingerprints behind on it. He wrapped her exposed thigh around his waist before moving to the other one. His lips trailing up to her ear, biting and sucking the her earlobe. She whimpered shivering in his arms, she was desperate for his touch. Her second stocking and shoe followed the first on the floor, her legs now both wrapped around his waist he finally could touch more of her skin.
"My sweet girl, so desperate for attention" Aemond teased. he pulled back admiring her, her lips swollen and red from his attacks earlier. Her neck was already beginning to bruise from his bites. Her chest heaving as she sat on the table, her legs around his waist. His cock was throbbing in his trousers at the sight of her. Her hair was all over the place.
"Kepa, Kostilus" Please. Her begging was like the lemon cake to his ears. His fingers worked quickly undoing her bodice until her tits were spilling out.
"Shh, sweet whore" Aemond shushed her quickly. His hand grabbed at her breast, the perfect size in his hand, she was just perfect for him. Her entire being fit him so perfectly, her love handles and breasts were just the right size.
"Kepa, please it hurts" Aerra begged. Her cunt was crying in need of friction. She tried rubbing herself against him, gasping when she felt his hard on. Aemond smirked with delight at the sight of her wide eyes and dropped jaw. She knew just how to push his buttons even without trying.
"Shhh" Aemond gave a quick slap to her breast. He reached down to undo the ties of his trousers. Without her having to beg anymore or preparations he shoved his cock inside of her tight cunt.
"Such a perfect cunny" Aemond complimented. Aerra had to slap a hand over her mouth to stop a scream from slipping past her lips. He was just in so deep, he reached places she couldn't even imagine reaching herself.
Aemond stayed still not wanting to hurt her. He was amused with how wet she was and he didn't even need to touch her down there, he did not need to prepare her, she was always ready to take his cock. She was his perfect twin and no one can change that. No one can separate them, not even their disgusted mother.
"Move, Kepa" She whined, rolling her hips for some friction. Aemond lowered his head to take one of her tits into his mouth, suckling at it. She let out a loud moan without warning at the sensation, he always knew how to pleasure her. The pleasure went sparkling down to her lower region making her walls squeeze around Aemond's cock, making him crazy.
"Fuck" The curse came muffled from his lips. His hips began rocking back and forth, the way she sounded, the way she felt were just overwhelming.
"Aemy" Aerra cried throwing her head back. Aemond pulled away from her breast and placed a hand between her breasts, he applied just enough pressure to push her back to lay fully on the table. His eyes sparkled at the sight of her breasts bouncing with each thrust.
"That's not my name" Aemond's hand came down at her bouncing tits, giving each a quick slap. Aerra's back arched, legs beginning to tremble.
"Kepa" She moaned loudly, no longer caring who heard, they were betrothed and to marry soon, no one can separate them.
Aemond picked up the pace of his hips, his cock was just begging for more frictions. "Yes...fuck yes" Aerra was not one to curse, so now that she did Aemond knew he was doing it right.
"Do not cum" Aemond warned, his one eyes blazing with almost anger. She did not earn cumming yet.
"Please kepa" She begged. Her left hand reached down to touch herself but he slapped it away in a second. Aerra cried with frustration. Her eyes teary already from the pleasure began pouring with frustration.
"Kepa!" Aerra cried desperately. He picked up the speed of his thrusts, he was slamming into her at this point. He was going to teach her a lesson.
"Whores do not get to cum" Aemond growled. One of his hands reached up to grab her jaw. His hips not stopping for a second. Her eyes rolled back, back arched but he pulled at her jaw making her eyes snap back to normal and her back to lay still down again.
"Do you understand?" Aemond asked. His nails digging into her flesh.
"Yes kepa, please kepa, I am sorry" She cried. Her hand reached to grab his wrist. He pushed her hand away and moved to focus on the movement of his hips.
His hands grabbed at her hips moving her hips just the right way to match the rhythm of his own. Aerra's hands tried desperately to grab onto anything. Her right found comfort on her own breast, kneading the full flesh, twicking her nipple evoking herself to more pleasure. Aemond had ruined her forever, she was no longer the shy and innocent sister she used to be.
"Kepa, please please please" Aerra's pleas filled the otherwise empty room. She did not care if she was to be heard, it aroused her more actually, she wanted the lords she danced with and lusted over her to see her being absolutely being destroyed by her own brother.
"Fuck, cum" Aemond was not a vocal person in general let alone during intimacy. His voice was low and gruff, it turned Aerra on even more. She rolled her nipple begging every god for the release her brother was chasing for the both of them.
"Yes please" Aerra's breath got caught in her throat. It was like lightning struck her and moved through her entire body. Her legs shook so hard they went numb for a second. They unraveled from around Aemond's waist and shot up in the air shacking. Her body obeyed only his command. No one else's but his and it will forever.
Aemond grabbed her legs behind her knees and pulled them up to his shoulders and continued the assault on her cunt. This new position allowed him to reach deeper, he could feel her cervix if that was possible. He was very close, he was going to seed her. He was desperate to seed her. He wanted her to swell with a pure blooded Targaryen.
"Sweet twin" Aemond tried to comfort her as her eyes rolled back, her orgasm being prolonged with his movement. With a groan of pleasure Aemond came shooting his cum so deep inside of her it probably went straight into her womb.
"Gods" The word came out forced from her lips as she tried to pull her hips away from Aemond, too overstimulated. Aemond let her crawl back a little only enough for his cock to slip out of her. His singular eye watched as his spend ran out of her slit and down onto the table. Her legs fell limp like the rest of her body. He leaned down on top of her to place a kiss on her forehead.
"Mine" He whispered against her eye before placing a small kiss to her closed eyelid. Her chest heaving made her breasts brush against his, her sensitive nipples perked at the touch and made her groan a little.
"Kepa" She whined. Opening her eyes lazily, Aemond smiled at the sight, she just looked so sweet like a little girl, his little girl that he gets to fuck fro the rest of his life.
"I'm right here" Aemond helped her sit up again. Her arms wrapped around his waist and her head rested on his chest. Legs open again welcoming him inside, his cock sheathed inside like it was going home, to keep them both warm.
"Kepa's got you" Aemond whispered against her hair line, placing a small kiss there as well. Aerra hummed happily and nuzzled even more into his chest, her arms tightening around his waist. He was hers and She was his forever.
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fyodorloveclub · 6 months
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self-indulgent fyodor x gn!reader fluff because my heart is still so so broken :( no warnings! wc: 0.7k (divider by cafekitsune)
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“I think that you and I would find each other in every universe.”
“Hmm?” your lover prods, pulling you closer against his chest and tipping your chin up with his finger. His violet eyes glowed in the waning light of the setting sun, slightly obscured by the raven fringe that swept across his forehead. “How do you mean?”
Taking advantage of the early summer weather and your approaching anniversary, you and Fyodor skipped work in favor of dedicating the day to your love. Starting with, of course, sleeping in, followed by a brunch you and him made together, visiting your favorite art museum, and ending the day with a picnic in a sprawling field within a nearby nature preserve.
It was like a movie, the way he hand-fed you strawberries and kissed away the juice that trickled down the corners of your lips with the laugh you could recognize anywhere. Prose and poetry danced off Fyodor’s lips as he read from the tote bag full of books you had lugged with you, reading stories of immortalized love and poems ignited by insurmountable passion as you laid your head in his lap. A few Russian novels had snuck their way into the collection as well, Fyodor gracing you with the heightened level of elegance and finesse in his voice as he spoke in his native tongue.
But now the two of you, pleasantly exhausted from the day, lie on the blanket laid out in the grass, surrounded by sprouts of baby’s breath and daisies in the cozy drowsiness of a summer haze.
You take the opportunity to press the gentlest of kisses against his warm lips, and he smiles softly as he returns the gesture. “I mean that… I don’t think there’s any version of us in any world, in any universe, in any timeline that don’t find each other. That never feel the touch of the other.”
Warmth blooms in Fyodor’s chest and spreads to each of his limbs, painting a rosy red on his cheeks that only you have ever been able to put there. “And why do you say that, my love?”
 “Because… I just know it. Our souls are intertwined. Don’t you feel it?”
It makes sense in your head. The way you perfectly compliment each other. The way you felt like you’d known him your whole life the second you met him. The tilt of his head and the almost mischievous spread of his lips felt like those of an old friend, and you hadn’t even known his name yet. And in that moment, too, you already knew you’d know him forever.
And yet, you weren’t two halves of a whole. You always found that expression to be reductive. To insinuate you were incomplete people without each other was incorrect – you would always be you, and Fyodor would always be Fyodor. But you made each other… better. More complete.
“Your handprint is forever burned on my soul, Fyodor,” you explain.
“I feel it,” he nods, answering your question from earlier as locks of your hair twirl between his fingers. “Like the roots of a thousand-year-old tree curl around each other and cement themselves into the earth, I feel it.” His hands leave your hair in favor of intertwining your fingers together, as if to illustrate his point.
 I fear we are stuck, you and I,” he chuckles, and you giggle along too.
“For better or for worse,” you say. “In every universe.”
“Through heaven and hell, and everything in between, above, or below. I’ll find you, my darling.”
The sun had finally dipped below the horizon now, casting your lover in a faint glow that made him seem ethereal, almost angelic. Your free hand, the one not enveloped in his, came to touch the delicate, porcelain skin of his cheek.
“You promise, Fedya? That you’ll find me?”
“I swear.”
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zvaigzdelasas · 24 days
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The family were eventually driven to an apartment in a multi-storey block where they would spend the next five weeks. “You could see the sea, not very far off in the distance,” Almog-Goldstein recalled.
On some days, they were allowed to spend time in a child’s toy-filled bedroom, but they would spent most nights sleeping on mattresses in the corridor. They were not physically harmed and often ate pitta and cheese with their captors until food became scarce.
They were always watched over by at least three of their six heavily armed guards. “Because some of them would go and fight and then come back, that’s what they told us,” Almog-Goldstein said.
The family tried to establish a relationship with their guards, engaging them in long conversations as part of a “survival mechanism”. Two spoke some English and another was learning Hebrew.
“They kept on telling us they’re not going to harm us and that we were very important to them,” Almog-Goldstein said. “But we were always terrified they would flip on us, ["][...]
The guards also discussed politics and the roots of the Israel-Palestine conflict.
“Ultimately it would always end with the guards telling us to go read history books; that we’re the ones who expelled them from their lands; we’re the ones who killed them; and we’re the ones who kept them in a pressure cooker that kept bubbling and bubbling until it erupted,” Almog-Goldstein said.
Some of the guards told the social worker they wanted to live side-by-side as neighbours, but others warned her to move away. “They told me to go to Tel Aviv but don’t return to Kfar Aza. They said: ‘We’ll return, we’ll be back.’ They asked: ‘Do you know how many we are in the organisation? On 7 October, we were 3,000. Next time we’ll be 20,000.’”
Almog-Goldstein said she also witnessed moments when her captors displayed “sensitivity and care”. One of the gunmen apologised for the killing of [her husband], whom Almog-Goldstein started dating in high school.
“We saw them cry, we saw them miss their wives,” she said. “We saw them writing letters to their wives and putting them in their pockets. We were worried about this, thinking why are you writing a letter now?”[...]
From there, the family were taken on a 40-minute walk to a supermarket. It was then that they saw the damage wreaked by the Israeli offensive for the first time.
“I saw a lot of devastation and destruction,” Almog-Goldstein said. “It made me feel terrible seeing such poverty. It was very difficult to see that. It was not a great feeling of: ‘Oh great, we Israelis showed them.’”
The three guards apologised for making the family sleep in a storage room in the supermarket but said they had some hope that the war was about to end.
The next day the supermarket was hit by shrapnel from an Israeli aerial bombardment. “It was atrocious. It was the first time we really felt like our lives were in danger,” Almog-Goldstein said.
“We heard the constant shelling and bombing getting closer and closer and could already see all the stones flying around and the rubble and shrapnel. It was closing up on us to the point where the Hamas guards put mattresses over us on the floor to cover us, and then they covered us with their bodies to protect us from our own forces’ shooting.”
When the supermarket was hit again, the Palestinians living in apartments upstairs were evacuated. The family’s guards began arguing in the pitch dark outside about where to take them next.
“But there was massive bombardment again,” said Almog-Goldstein. “There was bombs falling and they shoved us against the wall to protect us.”[...]
From there, there was another school filled with tents where Palestinian families were sheltering. Many assumed the Almog-Goldsteins were also displaced from the war and offered them food and water.
The family became hopeful that the war, then in its seventh week, was ending because their captors seemed “excited about a looming ceasefire”. But their guards told them there was nowhere safe left in Gaza and that they would have to wait it out in an underground tunnel with six female Israeli hostages, including two children.
Every encounter with captives in Gaza was truly exciting,” said Almog-Goldstein. “But three of the women were wounded, some had complex injuries, and some spoke about sexual assaults.”
She said the group discussed reporting the allegations to a Hamas commander on their release. “By and large, the Hamas commanders seemed to be receptive enough that we thought there might be a chance of relaying it,” she said.
But she doesn’t know whether that happened because most of the women were left behind. She is now desperate for the remaining hostages to return home, but added: “Having experienced how horrendous the fighting and bombardment was, I can’t really understand how you can both have that and care for the captives that are there.”
3 Mar 24
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