#mostly unedited aside from what i looked over

[soapybutt17]

Night Showers

Summary: A shower, a missing condom, and Soap doing his best to get on his Captain's nerves (the 20 laps around the entire base was worth it). Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Simon "Ghost" Riley. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. John "Soap" MacTavish. Word Count: 2,168 Chapter Warnings: Smut. Unprotected Penetration. Creampies. P in V. Oral Sex (F receiving). Alternate Universe. Soap just being a little shit for the giggles and all. Unedited as usual. A/N: To the anon that sent me the request, this is for you. I just can't get this idea out of my head and it shows.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open

One of the few perks of being part of the upper ranks were the privilege of having your own time to bathe. But unlike other assholes that prefer being in first, you preferred to be the last one to step foot in the communal showers. You prefer taking your time, lathering yourself up to the perfect suds and savoring every single minute of the cold water against your skin.

You preferred your privacy as much as the next person and practically living in the base, you don’t get that privilege as often as you want unless you were here. It was ironic seeing it was a communal space and there was an off chance another female member of the base would slip back in but it was rare especially at this time of the night where you were certain almost everyone aside from the people on watch duty were fast asleep.

The frigid cold water would have woken you up but the longer you stood in the water, the more did you feel the weight of the day get to you and you were close to falling asleep from where you stood. You were close to ready to finally get to bed and sleep before the following day of drills.

You felt a hand before you realize it and instincts had equipped you to act fast and hit whoever was ballsy enough to touch you. But it seems your husband was faster than you as he held onto your fisted hand. A smirk playing on his lips for catching you off guard.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” You whispered screamed at him at this point. The panic of someone possibly entering immediately crossed your mind and the possibility of either of you (mostly him) getting in trouble for being in the same shower together.

“Locked the door on my way in if that’s what you’re worried about, Love.” He smirked and only now did you come to realize that he was butt naked just as much as you.

You felt the heat on your cheeks at the realization. It’s been far too long since you’ve had even a semblance of intimacy with your husband. With mission and reports constantly pulling the both of you apart, having him so close to you now only brought the much deprived need in you to come back full force for him to see.

“Fucking hell, cold as ice.” He muttered as the water has finally hit his skin.

Your eyes gazed at the bear of a man you had the privilege of calling your husband. The way the water slither against his hairy chest and down to his happy trail all the pent up desire has come and you did not know if you had the mental fortitude to resist him at this point.

“Seein’ something you like, Love?” He teased, his watercolor eyes gazing down at you as he caught you staring.

“Very.” You quipped turning back to the waters to wash away the last of the suds that was still covering your skin. “But I think you already know that by now.” You muttered looking over your shoulder to look down at his manhood alive and awake you to see.

“Most definitely.” He chuckled, his arms found their way around your waist, pulling you further into his torso, his manhood pressing against your back in the process. “And you could feel it right now.”

“John…” You warned. You’ve had far too many close calls with the man in the past, had it not been for everyone’s lack of idea about what was going on between the both of you, you both would have been caught in one too many compromising situation.

“I’m doing nothing, Love.” He chuckled, his hand slowly creeping from your stomach up towards the swells of your breast giving a gentle squeeze before one hand rested against the columns of your neck and the other holding onto your jaws to keep you in place. “Nothing at all.” He purred, lips finding their place against where your neck and shoulders met.

“John not here.” You warned him again, the fact that the doors to the showers were locked did not reassure you at all. You still fear the possibility that someone had seen you then seen your husband walk inside in the middle of the night.

“Where then? Name a time and place.” He propositioned.

“Your room, after you shower.” You finally relent knowing that when your husband was in the mood just as much as you were, nothing would stop him from having you.

“Deal.” He turned your head until your lips met his own in a searing kiss that drowned you more than the water that showered above you both.

Your hand found their way against his wet beard, trying and failing to control his kiss, savoring the first of many kisses he was more than willing to give you for the rest of the night.

Fuck Protocol. Fuck Reputation. You will be fucked and you will make the most out of it.

“I’ll meet you naked on your bed.” He practically commanded you now as he pulled away. Any other time you would have made the protest of him giving him orders the way that he did but you truly didn’t care at this point.

Nodding, you pulled away from his hold. The coldness of his absent touch did more damage than the water ever could. Without even looking back, you had toweled dried yourself and put on your clothes—ignoring the fact that it was your dirtied ones. You’re going to be naked once you’re back in bed anyways and made your way out of the showers and making sure to lock the door behind you in the process.

~

“God fucking damnit.”

With shaking legs, you peered down at your husband post-orgasm from between your legs as he began searching through his discarded pants. A few choice words escaped his lips as he continued on with his search. It was so unlike the Captain to be this antsy but it was given in the situation at hand.

“What?” You asked, dazed still from your release with just his mouth. You felt the ache on your lips from biting too hard and trying and somewhat failing to keep your moans and whimpers to a minimum.

“Condom.” He practically growled as he began to look around his room.

You blinked as his frustration was now in full force as he began to look around his room for another spare but no luck whatsoever.

“Just fuck me, John.” You whimpered, hand somehow finding their way towards your still too sensitive bud. Keeping yourself sated while you waited.

“But…”

“I’m on my pills, just fuck me already.” You were now practically demanding him at this point. “Please.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice as he dove right on top of you. Slotting himself in between your legs. He pulled you in for another searing kiss. Your arms and legs had immediately wrapped around him, urging him to finally fuck you but he was taking his sweet time—a time neither of you truly had with the night slowly fading into daylight.

“A fucking little menace you are, aren’t you?” He teased, grinding his pelvic bone against your nub. “Just so desperate for me are you?” He questioned, voice growling louder and instincts kicked in as you slapped your hand towards his mouth to quiet him down.

He did not like it one bit as he held both of your hands above your head.

“Did I fucking tell you to touch me, Pet?” He growled against your ears.

“John—you need to be quiet.” You whispered struggling to free from his hold.

“You don’t get to make orders here, Lieutenant.” He whispered against your ears, nipping at your lobe before his lips lingered against your cheeks and finding their way towards your lips but not truly kissing you. “Is that clear?”

“Yes.” You whimpered as his hips dug further into your core.

“Yes what, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Captain.” You squealed as he finally slipped right into you.

The aching sting even with him preparing you lingered through your entire body. It was always a task in on itself as he held onto you. One hand held onto your own up above your head and the other held onto your leg and pulling it up as high as you physically could.

“Bloody fucking hell.” He groaned. “Fucking tight.” He muttered.

Without another word, his moved his hips, a gruelingly slow but deep pace that had you gasping at each piston. Your legs held onto his waist for dear life and your teeth bit against your lips stopping from any noise from escaping.

You watched all the control leave from your husband’s body as his thrust had gotten sloppy.

“Please…” You pleaded, even when you truly didn’t know what you were even begging for right now. “Please. Please. Please.”

You felt it before you realize what was going on, the spurts painted your insides and the mind numbing shiver that wrecked from your toes up to your head. You moaned, louder than you would have wanted it to be but your husband was quick to silence you with his lips. Pulling you into him, swallowing every moans and every whimper as he continued on with thrusting inside of you.

Finally, your husband had let go of your hands, you winced as blood began flowing right back and the familiar tingling sensation seeped through. He pulled away, looking down at you in the all too familiar adoration that you felt the same for him. You were sated, blissed and thoroughly satisfied from the longing you felt for your husband.

“Are you broken?” John inquired.

A playful smile rested on your face, the context that it was a question he often asked after any of his team were put in a bad spot. It was his own little way of asking anyone and everyone if they were alright.

“Split open, but I’ll survive.” You respond,

He smiled, chuckling at your antics. Before a flip has switch and his hand held onto you pulling you up and turning you until you were on your hands and knees. Without even missing a beat or even allowing you to say anything, he plunged himself right back into you.

“Good.” He chuckled leaning close to your ears. “There’s still more where that came from.”

~

Breakfast in the mess hall was boring and you preferred it that way. Enjoying your tea and toast and jam in the peace of the table you shared with John, Gaz, and Simon was all you could ask for after the grueling night you had with your husband.

Even from the frequent sips of his coffee, you know he was just trying his best to hide the smirk playing on his face. Last night had been a blur after the third round for you. When your husband was on a mission, nothing could truly stop him from taking what he wants and what he needed from you, you were all the more willing to give it to him if he needed it.

But with that being said, you also knew the consequences of your actions. The ache between your legs and the sore throat you were nursing with your ginger tea. There was also the array of hickeys and bruises that painted your entire body and you did your best to hide as much as possible even in the sweltering heat.

The next time you would even think about sleeping with your husband is when you’re both done with your deployment. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Aye Price!”

You winced, the peace of your own filthy thoughts of last night was ruined by Soap’s booming voice taking most of everyone’s attention (some already used to his morning antics, decided to just ignore him). You looked up towards the Scot and paled at the all too familiar foil packet in his grasp.

“Saw this in front of your room last night. Hope the lucky lady you had in your room was fine being raw dogged for the night.”

You could feel the fury boil from where you sat. You had noticed both Simon and Gaz strategically move a little farther away from where the Captain sat but they had an all good view of the man as he stood and ordered Soap to run the entire base twenty times.

It pissed John even more was the fact that Soap wasn’t all that afraid with his punishment, cackling as he skipped out of the mess hall, the condom still in his hand for everyone to see. Soap would truly not let him live this down.

His eyes slowly turned to you and this time it was you who was trying your best to hide the smile as you took another generous sip of your tea.

The consequence of his own actions it seems.

#John Price Smut #John Price One Shots #John Price Oneshot #John Price Oneshots #john price headcanon #John Price x reader #john price x female reader #John price x wife! reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #smut #john price smut #cross posted on ao3 #captain price #call of duty #fanfic #x reader #female reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price #captain price x you #john price #john price x you #captain price x female reader

[crazyoffher]

WATCHTOWER.

jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: a late-night visitor treads into the restaurant you work at, entering with the plan to grab a drink before heading home, and leaving with her drink and a girl on her mind.

warnings: not proofread (unedited).

word amount: 2600+

part two part three

You wiped the tables, a dry cloth over your shoulder as you dragged the damp towel across the wood surfacing. It was a quarter past eleven and your coworker had just served his last table of the night, opting to help the dishwasher load the silverware for the next morning which took about five minutes, leaving you to wipe down each table and chair in the main room and VIP section while he waved his goodbyes to you not long ago.

To say the restaurant having working air conditioning was a major relief considering spring was around and the temperatures were increasing day by day, and it didn't help that because your restaurant was a high-end restaurant in the core of LA, you wore a black button-up with black slacks for pants, black dress shoes, and a white vest and tie as your everyday work outfit.

You were a sweating maniac most days.

You heard the door to the restaurant entry open, sparing the entry's a glance before directing your attention to the table, the last table you had to wipe down, at that. "Sorry, we closed about thirty minutes ago. If you'd like me to, I can set you up a reservation for another day." At the end of your sentence, you looked up at the entryway to get a full glance at the three figures standing at the entry.

The first two to catch your eye were two men dressed in all black with semi-bulky figures, figuring them out to be bodyguards. You looked down slightly to the girl that they were protecting, immediately recognizing her.

It's a part of your job to identify celebrities as they come and go through the restaurant to give them better treatment, so America's new 'It' girl, Jenna Ortega, was not somebody you could've possibly failed to notice. She gave you a slight smile.

"Oh no, it's fine. I was just coming in and out of places around here to see who was still open so I could get a drink." She laughed it off which made you crack a small smile. Looking around the area to see all of the tables cleaned and mostly everything set for tomorrow, you turned back to the girl. "Well, if you were just looking for a drink, I could sit you at the bar for now."

You pointed toward the stools where the bar was, seeing as it was one of the last things you had to set up for the next day. "I don't fully lock up until twelve and I have to fix up the bar anyway, it's fine."

Even from a distance, you could see the uncertainty in her eyes at making you work a bit extra just for her. "You sure?"

"Totally. Sit at any stool," You shot her a smile before grabbing the last chair to turn upside down and put on the table, "and I'll be right there."

You could hear her spare you a 'thank you' before listening to the shuffling of her and her bodyguards, shooting a glance in their direction to see the three sitting in stools, the bodyguards two seats to the left of Jenna, giving her space.

Were you a fan of Jenna's? Maybe. Normally, being in the presence of celebrities didn't bother you at all, you had grown accustomed to it. Something about her, though, it made you a bit nervous to go up and serve her at the bar. You put your fears aside, though, because you'd rather not keep her waiting.

Quickly, you went around the bar into the kitchen to put your cleaning items away, washing your hands quickly but thoroughly before grabbing three glasses from the racks and heading out to the bar.

"You'd like a..." You trailed off, waiting for her to finish your sentence to which she did. "Vodka martini."

You shot her a look, a smile plastered on your face. "At this hour - no, at your age?" She genuinely laughed at your remark, "Okay, you got me. I know you might get this question a lot, and you might hate it, but what do you like that's non-alcoholic?"

You put on your thinking face, settling to ignore the short side-eyes her bodyguards were giving you while deep in their own conversation. "A berry soda usually does it for me. You mix any sort of berry syruping, raspberry, blueberry, etcetera into a Sprite or Sierra Mist, and if you want just a tiny bit of alc then you add a tadpole amount of white wine. A lime is optional, too."

"I guess I'll be having a...strawberry soda then, Sprite with a lime."

"Yeah, you trust me? - My recommendation, I mean." You pulled a strawberry syrup bottle out from under the counter, never breaking eye contact with the girl.

She giggled lightly at your word mix-up. "You seem like somebody I could trust, so sure. You look...good, by the way." Jenna added in, having eyed your suit-wear as she was making her way to a stool. Nervousness was laced in her voice, but you were too oblivious as a person generally to notice.

At the unexpected compliment, your cheeks tinted a slight red, breaking eye contact to hide away your face and grab one of the three cups you had placed out. "Thank you. I dare say you look nice as well."

Jenna scoffed, 'Yeah right." She looked down at her clothing, sporting baggy black jeans and a plain black tee that was covered by a jacket with designs all over it. "My outfit is about the plainest it could ever be."

You shook your head at her, turning to grab a Sprite out from the mini-fridge. "Your outfit never defines whether you look good or bad, not in my books anyway. It's about the face, or even the heart, as corny as that definitely sounds."

Your back was now turned to Jenna, cracking open the bottle of Sprite and pouring it over the ice in a metallic cup. So, unless you had eyes on the back of your head, you couldn't see Jenna with her elbow on the countertop, hand resting on her cheek as she glanced all around your figure.

Something about you to her was...interesting. She couldn't put her finger on it.

"That means you think I have a nice heart. You just met me." Though she couldn't see it, you grinned widely at her audacity to pinpoint the 'heart' part of your words instead of the 'face' part.

"I'd like to hope you do have a good heart, but I'm not sure because just like you said, we just met. I do know you have a rather pretty face, anybody could see that part of you, and I think that's enough for now." You placed the lid over the metallic cup, holding it before grabbing the bottom of the cup and shaking harshly.

Jenna, somebody who was quick with her words, struggled to respond to you. She found no words to possibly combat the indirect, massive compliment you just gave her.

As she drafted her next sentence, she overlooked the cup in front of her until her hand brushed against it mindlessly. Removing her other hand from her cheek, she looked at the glass in front of her, the drink a vibrant red from the strawberry syrup. She then looked up to see you, your eyes staring back at her.

"Are you okay? You seem a bit out of it." Your eyebrows furrowed in slight concern, and the only thing Jenna could do was shake her head. "Oh no, I'm fine. Just a bit tired. And thank you."

"Likewise. And you're welcome." You portrayed a smile that Jenna seemed to enjoy viewing. Eyeing her bodyguards, you leaned in over the counter to shorten the space between you and Jenna for the action of whispering. "Do you know if they want anything from here?"

Jenna's already slight smile grew wider, "What, you're scared to talk to a duo of big guys?" To her words, you gave her a sour look that she knew was all sarcastic.

"Well, in my experience, bodyguards haven't always been the nicest. More overly protective, and yeah, that's their whole job but sometimes they could just tune it down a bit. You try to hand someone their food and they eye you down like you're about to pull a gun out." You pushed yourself back slightly, deciding to give Jenna more space even though she quite didn't mind the vicinity between the two of you.

"I guess that's fair. Eddie, Bennett." She called to them, the two burly men immediately halting their conversation and directing their attention to the significantly small girl.

"Do you want anything from the bar?" The two men eyed you for a split second, leaving you to fiddle with your own fingers in a somewhat nervous state while you awaited an answer.

"Er, just a water."

"Same here."

You muttered an 'okay' before grabbing the other two cups and filling them with water, handing them off to the two men who each thanked you. "I'd say they're pretty nice." Jenna retorted, and you shook your head at her.

"You try the drink yet?" You moved to the bar's ledges where all the alcohol was at, all out of place and some caps left open, and got to work organizing everything while maintaining a conversation with Jenna.

You didn't get a response from her immediately, maybe around three seconds after. "Well, now I just did."

"What 'ya think?"

"I think that I should come here more often so I can get this drink served to me more often by a pretty cute waitress." Jenna regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. It was said with complete confidence, but now she found herself being too bold.

You pursed your lips to fight back the smile that challenged itself to spread, not daring to face her. You guessed Jenna was one for eye contact, as her eyes mercilessly burned into your face at (seemingly) all times.

"Why'd you want a drink so late, especially if you're tired? Don't you have like...a personal little bartender in your million-dollar home?" You cheekily ghosted her wealth, and Jenna bit the inside of her cheek to fight the smile that wanted to glue itself to her face.

"I had business meetings all day, sponsorships, and whatnot. I started them at around ten-ish this morning and I got out not even twenty minutes ago. I didn't want to go home just yet despite the fact that I feel more than ready to pass out on my bed. What have you done all day?"

"Be whined to multiple times and berated by D-list celebrities for not cooking their steak correctly. If you couldn't tell by now, I'm not the cook. I'll deal with it all day everyday though, the number of tips I get by the end of the day is fucking amazing."

"Give me a number." Jenna sipped on her drink, returning her arm to it's former position with her elbow resting on the countertop and her palm on her cheek, listening intently.

"I'd say...a thousand to fifteen hundred per day, two-thousand if we have actual A-listers come in. I earn my rent in a day." You laughed, and Jenna surprisingly looked shocked at the number. "You make that much working, what? Five days a week? That's about seventy-five hundred a week just on tips!"

"Well, because of the number of tips each of us normally get plus our actual paycheck, they shorten the days we work, so I actually work three days a week. I'll take it though, that's eighteen thousand a month on tips."

"That's too much, what's the catch?"

"Being berated constantly, having food and drinks thrown at you by adults acting like toddlers, and you have to be ridiculously fast. I'm talking taking customers' orders, giving other customers their orders, and sometimes making drinks all at the same time. It's stressful, a lot of people quit after the first month or so."

"That sounds awful, how long have you been here?"

You pondered about it. The days moved by fast when you were working so sometimes you lose track of what month it is, even. "Er, six months next week, I'm sure. It's hard to even keep track of months sometimes when the days go by so fast, plus the stress. Right now, I'm probably the most relaxed I've ever been standing in this restaurant, and I have you to thank for that."

Jenna grinned a big, flashy smile that you seemed to heat up at, slyly trying to feel your face. "Well, you're welcome. I - yeah?"

Jenna was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder, the finger belonging to her bodyguard, Bennett. He flashed up his phone to show her the time, "It's time to leave, miss. We promised to have you in the car by 11:45 at the latest."

Jenna just nodded, glancing at her glass that was still 3/4th full before looking up at you, seeing that you were wiping down the glasses Eddie and Bennett had given back to you. "Here, I'll get you a styrofoam for it." You left into the kitchen with the glasses at hand, hanging them back on the rack before searching in a cabinet for a styrofoam cup.

By the time you walked back to the bar, Jenna and her bodyguards were standing up, Jenna's guards merely awaiting her movement while she stretched, waiting for you.

Taking the glass, you dumped the remains of her drink into the styrofoam before sealing it with a plastic lid, handing it off to Jenna who gladly took it. "You have books in here?"

Jenna pointed out the shelves hung up on a wall, holding books that were slanted against one another, most of them with bulky spines. "Oh yeah, those are mainly for decoration, but I've actually read one or two myself. Most of them are the owners but we're allowed to shelve our own books if we'd like."

"You put any up?" Jenna questioned, abandoning her position next to her bodyguards to get a closer look at the nailed shelf. "About three so far. I just finished reading a book of my own that I plan on putting up here as well."

You maneuvered to where Jenna was, pointing to a navy-blue book that was quite big, a bulky spine faced in their direction with the words "CROOKED YOUNG" stretched out across the spine. "Crooked Young, It's the best book I've ever read. I really recommend it."

"Yeah? Where can I buy it, Barnes and Noble?" Jenna looked up at you, taking in your height. You were about four, maybe five inches taller than her, and she could tell through the naturally-popping veins in your arms the way your body was shaped through your tailored dress shirt and vest, you were physically fit.

"What - oh no, take it." You reached forward, grabbed the book off the shelf, and handed it to her. She looked at you again, the same look of uneasiness in her eyes that she gave you earlier. "Before you say anything, yes I am positive you can take it. I've read it one too many times to keep it around, otherwise I'd might just read it again."

Jenna gave you one last smile that lasted until she was out the door. "Alright, but I will be returning this to you when I'm done."

"So desperate to see me again?" You teased, a sly grin on your face as you laughed the joke away. "And how do you plan on doing that if you don't even know my name?" You questioned her to which she just shrugged.

"Your name is..."

"(Y/N). And you are?" You raised your eyebrows, tilting your head to seem sincere about your question. Though she was more than aware you knew who she was, she answered, "Jenna. I'll be seeing you soon, (Y/N)."

And with that, she turned on her heel and left the restaurant, your eyes not leaving her rather-short frame until you couldn't see her anymore.

"Eddie?" Jenna called to one of her bodyguards. sat in the passenger seat as Bennett started driving away. "Yes, miss?"

"Do restaurant workers typically work the same days every week?"

He thought about it for a second before looking at her through the rearview mirror. "Most of the time, yes. Why?"

"Please try to keep in mind that she was working on a Thursday."

☟ ☟ ☟

You guys want a part two? Please comment it below or send your answers in my asks :)

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesdayaddams #bodyguard #celebrity #actress #jenna marie ortega #celebrity x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #restaurant au #wattpad #lesbian

[thesmutsideblog]

Never Ever? - Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After a you and your long term ex breakup, some truths about your sex life come to light at the BAU and the idea that you've never had an orgasm, does not fly with Spencer Reid.

Reader is AFAB, and the story is using she/her pronouns, mostly because this one is really self indulgent and loosely based on me being pissed off about my ex.

Content warnings: dumbification of Spencer Reid, simp Spencer, shitty ex boyfriend, self indulgent writing, no beta or proof reading, cursing, smut, sexual worship, porn with plot I guess.

I have never written in second person before so I can only apologise for the shit quality of this, I havent written smut since 2018 and it's unedited, there is going to be spelling issues it's the dyslexia I'm sorry xx

GIF by comeandjointhebigboys

Spencer is doing everything in his power to look like he is minding his business, mostly because he really is trying to not eavesdrop. He came over to make a cup of coffee because he got barely any sleep last night and he wants to keep focused. But with no case directly at hand, there was something else the team were paying attention to and it was impossible for Spencer to completely ignore it.

"So he just, broke up with you?" Emily asks, dumbfounded.

"Over the phone," you say tilting your mug towards yourself, choosing to stare down at the small remainder of your coffee rather than to make eye contact with your team members.

"What an asshole," JJ says, lacing her arms together, until she looks like a disapproving mother. "Did he say why?"

"He said, we were going different places, and it would be a disservice to the time we spent together to pretend to be happy and keep lying to eachother," you say, sighing and putting the mug down, choosing to accept this caring interrogation about your breakup as your fate for the next twenty minutes.

"He used those words?" Emily asks, still trying to grapple the concept that your boyfriend, who she had met on a few occasions and had some thoughts she kept to herself about, had broken up with you.

"He used those words but what he really meant was 'I want to start sleeping with my twenty year old coworker and you spend too much time at work, so I'm ending things,' but he won't have the decency to admit that, despite the fact he was sleeping with her before the week was out," you roll your eyes as Emily and JJ continue to voice their disgust, loudly across the bullpen. You catch Spencer's eye for a moment and give him a small sad smile across the room, he nods and then looks away.

The guilt is eating Spencer alive. It's not like he actually had anything to do with the end of your relationship, he actively kept himself far away from it and even discussing it with you as possible. But the facts still remained the same, he likes you. He has liked you since your first day at the BAU and his feelings have never faltered. But you have always been in that relationship since long before he met you, and he knew that he didn't stand a chance, and he wouldn't want to mess around with that anyway. But he was unable to disagree with Prentiss, his own feelings for you aside, the simple fact of the matter was you have always been well out of your exes league. You are beautiful, and intelligent and charismatic, and your ex thought he was those things but more often than not fell short.

It's not like he even wished that your relationship would end and could blame it on the unlikely event of magical intervention. But the sheer fact that he was undeniably happier that you were no longer dating a man you were once very much in love with, that was enough to have him feeling guilty. Which is one of the many reasons he is really trying to not get involved in this conversation. One of the many reasons he is trying to keep a distance.

"How long were you two together again, like three years?" JJ asks. You shake your head.

"High school sweethearts," you correct her, "it's been a lot longer than three years."

"And he broke up with you over the phone, for a co-worker?" Emily emphasis each word in the sentence as she slowly sounds them out.

"He denies the last part but, yes," you nod.

"What are you beautiful ladies being so loud about?" Derek asks, approaching the three of you with some files in hand.

"The fact that men never fail to both disappoint and astound me," Emily states looking up at Derek from her seat, "no offence."

"None taken, but a little context wouldn't go a miss," he says looking at each of you in turn.

"My ex is a pig," you explain as nonchalantly as you can manage. You're trying really hard to be very collected about this. You've had a few days to process the breakup and you knew it was coming, even if you won't admit that to yourself. But being broken up with hurts, whether you see it coming or not. He was the only person you ever really dated, and having spent so much of your life with him this was a big adjustment. But deep down you weren't exactly mad about the situation, as much as it made you feel a lot better to complain about it. Things had not been right between the two of you for quite some time, and you find yourself almost relieved that it's over. But that still gave him no right to be as much of an asshole about it all as he has been.

"So he is the only guy you've ever really dated then, huh?" Emily asks. You give her a look as the thought crosses through her mind. "Wait, does that mean?"

"We started dating when we were barely more than kids Emily," you defend.

"So it's just been that guy, that guy?" Emily is struggling to be even the smallest part composed. "What is wrong with men?"

"You need some strange," Derek says casually.

"Morgan," JJ scolds him but Emily is slowly nodding her head. "Emily..."

"Best way to get over someone," Emily points out.

"Wow, I am not getting under anyone," you state, holding up your hands.

"Look, I understand the appeal of someone you've been with for a long time, they know you, they know what you like," Derek leans back on the table, "so new is risky, and some people really don't have a clue what they're doing I'll admit," he chuckles, "but trust me the longer you leave it-" Derek knows he isn't crossing a boundary, you and him have had plenty of conversations, but as soon as you give him the look to stop talking, he stops.

"I appreciate your concern but sex, is really not at the top of my priority list," you say.

"Please don't let a guy like that ruin it for you," Emily is staring up at the ceiling all types of distressed at the idea of your ex and his general existence.

"I don't think you need to worry about him ruining anything for me, more like just wasting my time," you say before realising that may be revealing too much. All three of them look at you instantly. "Do not read into that."

"Disinterest," Emily states looking you up and down. "And no immediate desire to release that usually comes with a breakup."

"We're not really doing this, are we?" JJ asks looking between the two profilers concerned.

"She's been distant the last few months, talking less and less about him, so the breakup wasn't unexpected, which means the sexlife probably wasn't up to scratch at the time," Derek adds.

"Oh you guys are doing this," JJ gives you an apologetic look as they start rattling off assumptions.

You try your best to ignore them until Derek says something which does tiptoe over the line- by a mile. "Pretty boy, what are the statistics on post breakup sex?" He is half joking but it pulls Spencer directly into a conversation he had been trying to avoid.

Spencer knows the answer, and that's obvious, but answering will only encourage them to get him involved in the conversation. But not answering is suspicious and could cause worse problems. He pushes his thumb into the centre of his palm as he speaks. "27% of adults report having sex with an ex within a two-year period," Spencer states knowing that's not what Derek meant but hoping he could get away with it.

"No, I mean rebound sex," Derek corrects.

"Studies show that thirty-five percent of those who are broken up with have sex to get over their ex, and twenty-five percent as a form of revenge," Spencer says giving in and stepping closer to the group.

"Look sixty five percent of rebound relationships fail within six months," you say. That's a safe thing to say you believe, as you know the team would likely assign that research as an attempt to make an educated guess how long the fling with the coworker would last. But Spencer knows better. He cannot help but wonder if that's what has been making you act differently the last few months. If you saw the end in sight and wondered what that means for you when it's over.

"You're not looking for a relationship though, you're just looking for some fun," JJ points out.

"You do remember how to have fun, don't you beautiful," Derek asks giving you a wink.

"Yeah," you say brushing him off.

"Do you?" Derek asks, unconvinced.

"I told you, I'm not interested in going out and getting laid, it's not worth the energy," you say.

"When was the last time you had an orgasm?" Emily asks. Spencer chokes on his coffee.

"Emily!" JJ chastises her.

"Someone had to ask," Emily says.

"No one had to," you tell her.

"Come on, six months?" Emily asks. "A year?"

"Emily," JJ warns.

"Shit..." Derek whispers and you feel his gaze on you intensifying. He has you all figured out.

"What?" Spencer asks, not meaning to.

Derek is keeping his eyes on you and you cannot meet his eye. "Tell me I'm wrong pretty girl," Derek says, wanting himself to be wrong.

"I... I don't know... You're a profiler, how am I supposed to lie to you?" You huff.

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks.

"Derek you're not helping," you state.

"Sorry," he says, "I just don't understand how that can be the case."

"You said it yourself, some people really don't have a clue what they're doing," you say.

"So you've never?" Emily asks cottoning on.

"Can we please stop talking about this," you say.

Spencer's brain is ticking over trying to read between the lines and when it clicks he is struck with a similar dumbfounding as Morgan. How? How?

He cannot help but have one clear thought scrambling around his brain at a million miles per hour. If he had ever had the chance, he wouldn't have wanted anything more than to make sure you felt good. To know he had made you feel good.

How inconsiderate could your ex be? How little attention must he have been playing to not even notice that you were not getting what he was out of it? How had he never cared to make that better?

And why did you not feel cheated by that fact?

"I'm not eavesdropping," Garcia defends bringing Spencer out of his head and back into the room.

"Okay why don't we just fax everyone the stats on my sex life," you groan, resting your head in your hands.

"I'm just saying," Garcia tries.

"I appreciate all of the unnecessary concern," you say, "but my sex life isn't a BAU case." Emily smiles as she goes to speak but you catch her thought right before she opens her mouth. "And it's no ones problem to solve either."

"It's a little tragic," JJ confesses.

"JJ," you're surprised, JJ is normally the one you can count on to get the others back on track but she just shrugs.

"Let's leave it be, Garcia do we have a case," Spencer is talking with his hands even more than normal and you cannot help but notice. He is trying to come to your rescue and you appreciate that. You appreciate everything Spencer does.

"Maybe," Garcia explains, waving her tablet at the group. "Hotch wants us in the conference room, five minutes ago."

You're quick to get out of your seat and away from the grilling you are receiving from the team and everyone else is quick behind you. Hotch and Rossi are at the desk when you all enter.

Hotch frowns. "You took a while," he notes.

"Discussing the breakup?" Rossi asks, looking you up and down.

"I dont even want to know what has given that away," you admit taking a seat. Hotch nods a half apology which you silently shrug off in return.

You were trying your best to pay attention, giving Hotch the respect he deserves, but the case he was talking about didnt feel like it required the BAU's involvement and Emily is quick to voice that opinion. You managed to register a few words about consulting and favours, but nothing is really sinking in, not when you can feel Spencer's gaze on you as hot as a fever.

You raise your eyes to meet his and they dart away. You think back, and it occurs to you that maybe conversations about your sex life or anyone of the teams sex lives for that matter wasnt exactly what Spencer signed up for. You feel a little guilty, knowing you kind of indulged the others and let him get pulled into the conversation even if that wasnt your intention.

You catch him looking at you again but he doesnt see you looking back, it's like he is trapped in a thought, and in this moment you've never seen Spencer look so without a clue.

"Reid?" Hotch asks, repeating the question.

Spencer looks to Hotch, and he buffers. You know he knows the answer to the question, you know he always knows, but his brain seems to have frozen up on him. "I... sorry what?"

"This is statistics kid," Derek says, "are you sick or something?"

Emily gently pokes Spencers shoulder. "Maybe he is getting a software update," she jokes.

You lean forward and give Hotch the answer he is looking for, remembering from a conversation you and Spencer had a few weeks back about Ohio. Hotch gives a side eye to Rossi before continuing.

You look back at Spencer and he is watching you again, you offer him a small smile and he returns it. You've always been better at reading Spencer than most members of the team but you don't recognize this behaviour at all.

"Are you okay?" You ask him as you both make your way down the steps of the BAU.

"Of course, why do you ask?"

"You blanked back there, Spence, pretty hard," you say as gently as you can, "I havent seen you like that since..."

"Since when?" Spencer looks curious, and softer somehow.

"Since we worked that case in Illinois, with the models, you took one look at that girl Annie Grant was it, and your IQ dropped like a hundred points," you laugh gently.

"She was pretty," Spencer confesses.

"I think Morgan got her number," you recall.

"He did," Spencer agrees.

"So, what is it? Because it's not a pretty girl in lounge wear," you say.

"You dont know that for sure," you can tell he is trying to joke around the subject, and normally youd find that cute. Cute in the kind of way you havent been able to admit to yourself before. Because having a crush on a coworker is not convenient at the best of times.

"Okay, Dr Reid, keep your secrets," you give him gentle shove and his smile is disarming, soft and so happy to just be involved. "Got any fun evening plans?"

"There's this new study into cognitive dissonance in specific trauma patterns I have been meaning to read," he offers. You bite back a chuckle.

"You've got a date with science," you nod to yourself, "of course you do."

He looks around, thinking for a moment. "Are you going to walk?" He asks.

"I usually do," you admit, "it's only a few blocks after all."

"Can I," he pauses, "can I walk you?"

"You want to walk me home?" You ask, a little suprised at the offer.

"If that's okay, the study can wait," he says. There is a look in his eyes you can't quite pinpoint, somewhere between pleading and hopeful. You nod.

"I'd love that Spence."

The distance to your apartment door had never felt so short, and you hadn't realised until now quite how much you enjoyed the moments when you were with Spencer, and no one else was watching. Maybe because he paid less attention to making sure no one noticed him watching you, and he just keeps watching.

Spencer looks at his feet as you fumble with your keys, he has no idea what he is doing. He didn't think any of this through, he just kept thinking about you, and what you deserved and what you should've always been given and now he is stood at the doorstep of your place with no plan, no idea of what compelled him to think any of this was a good idea and no idea of what to do next.

You smile at him, and bite your lower lip just a small bit, the look is so demure that Spencer wonders if he imagined the entire conversation in the bullpen, wondering if maybe he was really so wrapped up in these months of conflicted feelings for you that he managed to lapse from reality so badly that he got himself here.

"Do you want to come in for coffee?" You offer and his heart damn near stops in his chest.

"Coffee is never coffee kid," Derek's voice rings in his head. "It's an invitation."

"Got decaf?" Spencer asks, and you laugh.

"Like anyone who works at the BAU knows what decaf is," you open the door wide and walk through. "You coming?"

He doesn't answer but follows you, closing the door behind him. Your apartment isn't a mess but it's clear things have been moved around since your breakup, there is clear empty spaces where things once collected dust, like so many things once filled a place and vanished. You weren't dwelling on the relationship, because there wasn't a point. You had loved and you had lost, and you knew it went like that sometimes.

"You better not be profiling me Dr Reid," you quip as you catch him looking around.

"I wouldn't dare," he says.

"So, are you going to explain why you're being so sheepish?" You ask, reaching for a mug, to actually make coffee.

"I'm being sheepish?" he asks. He had hoped he was hiding it better.

"Nervous at the very least," you say putting the kettle on. He says nothing and you sigh. "Did we make you uncomfortable earlier?"

"What?" Spencer asks, caught off guard by the question.

"Talking about my ex," you offer up. "I know that sort of gossip isn't exactly for everyone-,"

"No," he is quick to defend, "that's not what's bothering me."

You smirk and he sees the trap you laid for him that he walked right into. "So something is bothering you pretty boy," Morgan's nickname for him falls from your lips and it sounds so different. It burns every nerve ending, each fibre of his being and he forgets how to speak for a moment too long. "Spence?"

"I," he brings himself back.

"I don't mean to pry, you don't have to tell me anything," you explain quickly.

"How was your ex such an idiot?" he asks outright. You laugh, it's short and shallow because you're not expecting anything close to that from Spencer.

"What?" It's your turn to feel dumb now as you spiral trying to process what Spencer is suggesting. That the conversation had gotten to him, but not in the way you'd thought. His problem hadn't been with the topic but the content, the confession. The kettle brings itself to a boil but you're interest is elsewhere now.

"I don't mean to speak out of place here, but if I were him there are so many things I would've done differently," he fidgets with his tie but doesn't stop. This confession is coming out now or not at all and he wants it finished. He needs it finished. He does not want blurred lines. Not between the two of you. "Not even touching the subject of how your relationship ended. I wouldn't have left you in the rain last October, I wouldn't have held all the things I knew about you when we met as reasons to run years after I agreed to love you regardless. I wouldn't have let you go to work angry all those times. I wouldn't have lied about plans. I wouldn't have let you go to sleep sad or angry, and be gone in the morning. I wouldn't have left you wanting, for anything. Because if I was him I would understand what a beautiful rarity it is to find someone who does what you do, with your compassion and determination and dedication and is still kind, still hopeful, even when things are dark. There are not a lot of things I don't know much about, and maybe relationships, and romance and sex are in that limited list, and maybe he would argue that hypotheticals hold no ground when your experience is as limited as mine, but I frankly don't care what his opinion would be. Because he didn't see you for what you are and that means his thoughts are of no value to me. I don't tell you this because I am expecting you to say anything, it's just burning me up that you weren't treated, hell worshiped, in the way you deserved and I had to tell you that I can't think of anything more wrong." He steps back and you're still catching your breath. "I, I am sorry I shouldn't have... I will see you at work."

He turns and strides to the door, and your breath heaves in and out of your chest and you wonder if you can find your voice before his hand finds purchase on your doors lock. "Spencer," you breathe out. He pauses, hand hovering over the door handle.

"Yes?" his voice is so quiet, and he doesn't turn to look at you.

"Please don't leave," the request falls from your lips and Spencer has never felt more of a need to do something than to do anything you ask of him in this moment. But his doubt still hangs gently in the space between the two of you.

"What?" he asks again, searching in the word to find something to hold onto, looking for some guidance or instructions he missed. He didn't have a plan, and he doesn't know what to do with this.

"Please," you say again, voice sturdier now as you start to close the distance between the two of you, "Spence," his breath hitches as you place a hand gently on his shoulder, encouraging him to turn back to you, and he does, "don't leave."

His eyes stare into yours and you swear you feel all the months of unsaid things, of quiet wanting, of stolen thoughts in weak moments, bursting at the seams. You had told yourself in another world, another life time, had you met Spencer Reid and the timing had been different, if you had been different, he would've been everything. You told yourself from that first day that those brown eyes may plead into you with every moment you meet them but it was never going to be the right time.

His eyes stare into yours and he feels the weight of all the things he long tired to bury, crawling their way up from the depths and pushing against his skin, desperate to get out. Desperate to be known. Desperate to correct the wrongs and do right by you. Desperate.

His hand hovers touch's length away, scared to close the distance, scared to make the move, to change everything. You both know in this moment, that all it takes is one touch and you're going over the cliff.

This is a road you do not turn back from.

You whisper one last time, like a prayer, "Spence," and in a blink gravity turns back on, and everything blooms in bright technicolour.

It unfolds in a rush, his hand to your waist, pulling you that much closer, both of your hands gripping to the fabric of his shirt as he pulls you up to him, other hand moving gently under your chin to guide the tilt of your head. His lips crash onto yours and there's a hunger you've never seen in him, and a hunger you've never known inside yourself.

There's a gentleness, a caution in his desperation, in his need, one that you don't have in your own. He keeps kissing you and you back up, footing not very careful as you tighten your grip on his shirt. Your back finds support against the edge of your counter and you find yourself letting on of the hands slip from the fabric of his button down to tug at his tie, to keep him closer at first, and then in an attempt to remove it entirely.

He pulls back for a moment, not to catch breath as either of you would be happy to drown in this moment, but his eyes are scanning you, like he is looking for something else, something missing.

You pause, slowly tugging the tie from his collar and letting it fall to your floor. "Spencer?" you ask.

He looks lost as he breathes in. "I don't know what I am doing," he says.

"You're doing great is what you're doing," you say, not looking away.

"Is this okay?" he finally asks. Your heart starts running away from you as you try to remember to breathe.

"This is more than okay," you assure him, "please Spencer, don't stop kissing me."

That's all he needs to hear and his lips are back on yours and the kisses are feverish and starved and he presses his hands into your hips and the gentle moan that leaves your lips sends Spencer's mind spinning.

He pulls his lips from yours and starts kissing a trail down to your neck, you lean more into the support of the counter top and let a hand find it's way into a tangle of his brown hair.

His tongue against your skin, the gentle brush of teeth on that spot that makes the sound from before seem like a draft of a masterpiece. Spencer knows that now he has heard you, voice like honey, moan trembling from your lips, nails dug into his scalp gently tugging on his hair, barely able to keep your eyes open yet again your breathing steady, no sound will ever compare.

In the the times he had let himself think about you, imagine all the things, let his fantasies and dreams run away with him, he had never come close to this moment. How your fingers shake as you start to unbutton his shirt, needing to do something, needing something.

Needing him.

And you can feel his need in return, in the way he holds onto you, on the way he is listening to your body, hearing every response, feeling every movement, determined to do this right.

He feels the way you press your tights together, tight against the counter, the need for something more radiating off of you, and you don't give time for the doubt to creep in. "We should," you breathe out as you feel the blood rushing through you, knowing that there will be marks from where he is kissing you that you won't be able to hide tomorrow, not that you want to, "move this to the bedroom."

"Is now a bad time to point out that I have mostly just a conceptual understanding of what we are about to do?" Spencer asks between kisses.

"I think you're worrying too much, because if you're basing this on theory," you take his hand leading him towards your room, "so far you're giving nothing but hard evidence."

You let your own innuendo slide as you both fall back onto your bed, he looks down as he leans over you, and there's a softness, a patience in this moment, as he needs to soak it all in.

You reach up and continue to undo the buttons on his shirt until they are completely undone, and he watches you as you do, you give the fabric a gentle tug and he catches on, slipping the rest of the shirt and the jacket off and letting it fall back somewhere out of mind. You trace a hand gently up his arm and he leans down to kiss you again, your lips, your jaw, your neck.

He runs a thumb over the deep red mark he has left and you feel the fever rising again. You need out of these clothes, you need more.

You start to undo your own shirt buttons and as each button comes undone Spencer follows the trail of exposed skin and leaves hot kisses on each new place.

You can feel the hard outline of his cock against your thigh as you reach to unzip the side of your skirt. The nervousness is still fluttering in Spencer's face as he helps you slip out of it. His fingertips brushing over exposed skin, his hand creeping up the inside of your thigh and you buck up gently at the touch.

His lips trace kisses up your torso to your chest and like this, each kiss so intoxicating, each touch so electrifying, his hand inching further and further up your thigh, as his lips dance over the skin around the fabric of your bra there is nothing he could ask of you that you would not do.

Sex may never have been perfect before, but you'd always thought it was at least decent, passing, respectable. But this build up with Spencer, his hands on your skin, his lips leaving evidence on your body that he has been here, this was more than you'd ever felt. And he hadn't even really touched you yet.

You reach to undo his trousers, eager to get him in less clothing but he pulls back, out of your reach. "Not yet," he whispers against your skin, "you start doing that and this will be over way too soon." He brings his lips to yours again, stealing a deep kiss as he unclasps your bra. "And this is about you, all about you," he is mumbling again, almost incoherent against you. He is determined, his mind is focused on you and your pleasure and what you deserve.

You don't think you've ever wanted anything as much as you want this.

His thumb brushes against the your clothed skin, and sparks shoot through your body, nails digging into his shoulder as you gasp at the contact.

He nudges closer, his forehead pressed to yours, and you look at him. Spencer, your colleague, your friend. Spencer who never forgets your coffee order. Spencer who stayed all night to help with paperwork because you lost a bet. Spencer who has accompanied you to every movie you've ever asked him to. Spencer who bought an extra ticket to every convention just in case you would want to come.

"Please," you plead, like you need to, as if it was possible that he wouldn't do anything for you in this moment. As if you even needed to ask.

He kisses you, pulling you up and towards him, breathing you in as his hand finds its way between the elastic of your underwear and your skin.

Your nerves are as quick to respond to his touch as fire to a accelerant. Every movement makes you wonder if Spencer was given some map of your body that you didn't know existed, a guide to movement and pressure and timing that couldn't be more perfect.

You are nodding at his movements, keening at every increase of pace, every finger curl, every swipe of his thumb. Your body shuddering in anticipation and a pleasure you never knew courses through you.

Spencer is leaving compliments with every kiss across your body, so eager to please, so desperate to worship. When he hits the spot, your body gives you away at alarming speed, you buck, moving your arms to prop yourself up on elbows, leaning into him, into the movements, rutting against him. "Fuck," you manage in the haze.

Spencer responds to this approval with dedication and vigour and then you feel it, that hot white coil of pleasure pulling at you, like a tight chord. "Shit," you start breathing heavier, faster, "shit, shit."

"You're so incredibly beautiful," you hear Spencer whisper. You can't keep your eyes open as your knees begin to shake.

"Spencer," you whimper, not for any reason but to say his name. The need to say his name over and over, and over as the chord pulls tight and finally snaps.

The pleasure explodes through you, every nerve tingling, like fireworks cascading through you. You shake, riding the high through and fall back onto the bed, slumped with a laboured breath.

Spencer moves back up to be level with you, gently brushes some stray hairs from your face and he smiles down at you. "That is what it's supposed to feel like?" You ask.

If this was all he could have for the rest of his life, Spencer would be a happy man. He plants a kiss on your forehead, and that look of devotion has not left his eyes.

But he has been filled with a new sense of purpose, like he was made for this. For you.

He doesn't have time to debate internally if your ex was purely just that poor at what he did or if it feeling so easy, coming so naturally to him was something else entirely. He didn't really care which it was, maybe both. Right now all he cared about was making up for lost time, lost opportunities, all your disappointment.

He kisses you again and the force of it is more knowing, more sure, it's hot and messy and every moment it feels like you need to be closer, deeper, more entwined. The whole time he keeps his hand in your underwear, thumb running in soft, intensely accurate circles as his fingers do most of the work.

It crosses your mind that maybe it should be almost embarrassing that he is making it so easy. It should be embarrassing that Spencer barely needed any time to bring that second orgasm to precipice. It should be embarrassing that you're convinced this man could make you come by the way he kisses you alone, but you're not embarrassed. Not because you've never felt the pleasure like this before, not because you think pleasure it never something to be embarrassed about and not because after everything you deserve this. But because it's Spencer Reid, and everything with him has always felt like it is exactly as it should be, and him making you feel this way, is no exception.

He holds you in the kiss as your second orgasm pulses through you, just as intense as the first one, he feels you shake as it floods you. A moan escaping into the kiss, from your mouth to his and he groans against your lips.

He is so focused on you that he isn't paying any attention to how this is effecting him, how hard he is against you. How desperate he is for you. His need for your pleasure overtaking any need of his own.

You know if left to his own devices Spencer would stay as the two of you are, skin pressed to skin, lips on yours, trying to write years worth of wrongs in one night. But you do not want to give into exhaustion before you have let him ruin your expectations in all the ways you know.

He moves from your lips to your neck and before you can process much of his plans you feel the kisses trailing your hipbone, and with the third orgasm approaching you can see where his mind has wondered to. You lean forward, gasping in pleasure, but determined to get his attention, you place a hand on the side of his face, tilting up his chin to meet your eyes. "Wait," is all you manage to moan out before the pleasure tears into you, your head falls back and you grab a fistful of sheet, trying to keep yourself up through the pleasure.

Spencer does as you ask and waits until you manage to gather your words, eyes on you. "Please," you try. He runs his eyes over your body trying to understand your request.

You reach down, pulling once again at the edge of his trousers, fumbling to undo them, to get him out of them. You've never known Spencer to be so slow to catch on, but he is practically drunk on you.

"Oh," he manages. "Oh."

Before he can start to explain all the reasons he doesn't think that's important right now you look up at him with those eyes so pleading. "Please," you whisper again.

And he is putty in your hand, happy to do anything you ask of him, he nods and you finish undoing his trousers and push them down, he finishes discarding them.

Now it's your fingertips against his skin and he holds his breath as you move for his boxers. "Is this okay?" you ask quietly.

"You're everything I have ever wanted," the honey leaves his lips and you kiss him, his lips focused on you as you help him out of his boxers and pull him down and close.

"I need you," you whisper. "Right now, I need you."

"I am yours," he responds.

You keep your fingers threaded in his hair, and you tug a little harder as you become overwhelmed with him. "Fuck," Spencer's voice shudders in pleasure and you understand his desperation to please you instantly, because you want nothing more than to give him everything.

Everything becomes a mixture of moans and names, lips pressed to skin, and fabric scrunched with every thrust. You kiss Spencer's neck, finding his sweet spot with a similar precision to which he found yours. Leaving a collection of marks on his neck before her buries his face into yours, repeating your name over and over, becoming more and more wanting. His neediness matching your own and as he digs his fingers into your hips that now familiar feeling starts to rush you.

"Spencer, I am going to cum again," you whisper. Spencer cannot form words, he just keeps kissing, sucking, digging at your skin, even now he isn't close enough to you. "Fuck!" You scream out and the pleasure of your orgasm is almost too much for Spencer.

"Fuck, I," Spencer's brain is doing flips trying to figure out what to do, what he is supposed to do. "I am going to."

"Please," you beg in his ear.

"I should, I haven't," he is trying to piece the words together but they're not coming. You know what is trying to say, what is cannot find the words to ask.

"Please stay with me," you say, nudging his nose with your own, "please."

Your gentle request is his breaking point and he crashes his lips back onto yours as his own orgasm comes to fruition.

He collapses down next to you, both catching your breath. "Fuck," you repeat, for what might be the millionth time, as you long lost count.

You cannot help it, you let out a little laugh and Spencer glances at you, a smile breaking out on his face. "For the record, I hadn't planned that," he says.

"For the record, I really planned on drinking my coffee."

"I can make you a coffee," Spencer offers, turning to his side.

"We should, get cleaned up first," you smile.

"Then coffee?"

"Then coffee."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid smut #smut #smut fanfic #no beta we die like jason gideon #reader x spencer reid #bau fanfic #bau smut #matthew gray gubler #fanfic #x reader #bau #criminal minds fic

[metal-mouse]

Let Me Make it Up to You

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (m/f) themes: creepy liminal lake. smut. sort of established relationship. warnings: 18+ this contains spice and filth. oral sex. p in v unprotected sex. dominant-ish Sebastian. m/f pairing. characters aged up. not safe for work y'all. mc almost drowns. summary: just over 3k words. After a poorly executed treasure hunt, Sebastian Sallow must make it up to you somehow. note: something about shower sex with Sebastian just really appeals to me idk. This is mostly self-indulgent but I liked it enough to post it. It's way longer than I thought it would be lmao. 99% unedited because I'm lazy. i've never like properly tried to write smut in a way that makes sense for other people bc of course I can picture what I'm writing in my head, so it's a little detail lacking currently. it'll be interesting to see my writing style progress.

You stood beside Sebastian Sallow at the edge of a dark lake found deep within a cave he’d read about. Sebastian had heard a rumor of a ‘great’ treasure within the cave, and had begged you to come along with him to retrieve it once he had located it. You had agreed, but now you were a little less enthusiastic. From your spot on the shoreline, you could see a painted chest sitting on a small mass of land closer to the middle of the lake. The only way to the chest was to swim. You’d both spent a rather long time trying to summon the chest, and it wouldn’t budge.

“Draw sticks?” Sebastian asked, tilting his head as you looked up at him.

“You always cheat.” You frowned. You already knew it was going to be you to swim across the gap. Sebastian’s ability to ask something of you and for you to agree was… unfortunate at times.

“You’re just so much better than I am at everything.” Sebastian pouted. His hand stroked down the back of your arm, the warmth piercing through the thin fabric of your shirtsleeve. You stepped out of his touch and kicked off your shoes with a sigh.

“This treasure better be worth it, Sallow.” You looked back at him, unbuttoning your trousers and stepping out of them. You pulled your shirt off, discarding it next to your trousers. There was no use in getting all of your clothes wet. Aside from your undergarments, you kept the small pouch that Ominis had helped you enchant to hold far more than should be possible for the size of the pouch. You walked to the edge of the lake, looking down into the murky water. A pulse of fear passed over you, making your heart flutter. It was unnerving not being able to see anything in the lake - you didn’t like not knowing what was coming. Taking a deep breath, you stepped off the edge. You panicked momentarily as you plunged entirely under the frigid water. There was no gradual slope to deep water, it was just a drop-off. You pushed upwards, gasping for air as you surfaced.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked, his concern would be touching if he hadn’t just guilt tripped you into doing this.

“‘S cold.” You managed to say, the cold water made it a little difficult to breathe. You kicked your feet and used your arms to propel you forward towards the island, spurred on by the thought that you had no idea what was beneath you. The sooner you were out of the murky water the better. It didn’t take you long to get to the island and haul yourself up onto the stone surface. Being in the air was even worse than the water now, the cool air of the cave chilling you thoroughly to the bone. You hurried across towards the chest, silently hoping it would be easy enough for you to open.

“What’s in it?” Sebastian called out, his voice echoing around the chamber.

“Alohamora!” You cast. The lock clicked open and you eagerly lifted the lid. The chest held an assortment of jewelry, and a bag of gold coins. They weren’t galleons, they were some sort of ancient muggle currency. They’d certainly fetch a fair price either way. Your anger towards Sebastian was fading quickly, especially as you picked up a particularly ornate necklace. You made quick work of stuffing everything into the leather pouch, eager to be out of the chilly cave. It was easier this time jumping back into the water, you knew what to expect this time. You swam back towards Sebastian who called out words of encouragement. As you neared the middle of the stretch, something felt wrong. An overwhelming sense of danger filled you, and that’s when a cold hand wrapped around your ankle. You barely had time to gasp for breath as that hand was joined by several more and you were pulled under the surface.

Sebastian yelled out your name as you disappeared under the surface. He ran to the edge, but could only see a stream of bubbles coming up from the black water. Panic clouded his mind at the thought of you being hurt, and it would all be his fault. This wasn’t exactly an enemy he could see and fight. He had no idea what to do, how could he save you if he couldn’t see you? He reasoned that you were very capable and strong, you’d gotten out of sticky situations like this before. Far too much time had passed for his comfort, and he knew he had to do something. He dumped his cloak on the ground, preparing to dive in for you when he saw a flash of red light from the deep. As soon as he could see you, he dropped down and snatched your hand hauling you out of the water. Your skin was freezing cold, and you began to cough violently as you flopped down. About a dozen grindylows floated to the surface dead until their surviving companions yanked their bodies downwards, no doubt to feast on them.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian gasped out, putting his hand on your shoulder. You snatched his wrist, looking up at him with bloodshot, furious eyes. They almost seemed to glow with your rage. Sebastian knew then he was in a lot of trouble.

“Don’t.” Your voice was a strangled wheeze, and Sebastian withdrew his hand like he’d been burned. He had half a mind to run away from you, his eyes flicked to your wand still clutched in your other hand. He knew what you could do with it and he suddenly wasn’t keen on dueling with you. Sebastian obeyed, stepping back from you as you got to your feet. He apparated as soon as you pointed your wand at him. The last time he’d pissed you off he had ended up with no eyebrows and two inch long front teeth that had taken three hours for Nurse Blainey to fix.

Sebastian ran the rest of the way back to Hogwarts, he knew he didn’t have much time to hide from you or get you calmed down. He had to find Ominis. If anyone could get you to calm down, it was Ominis. Sebastian knew he had a habit of fanning the flames of your anger, while Ominis did a wonderful job of quelling them.

Students watched him and more than one person called out to him as he ran past. He was panting heavily by the time he found Ominis who sat with Poppy Sweeting. Poppy looked up at him with wide eyes as he thundered to a halt in front of them.

“What did you do?” Ominis asked calmly.

“You have to hide me!” Sebastian was desperate.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing! I didn’t do anything - how was I supposed to know there were Grindylows?”

“Grindylows? Where did you find Grindylows?”

“A cave. It’s a long story. Please hide me. She’s going to kill me.” Sebastian pleaded.

“Is she alright?” Ominis asked. Sebastian knew his time was running out. He had to find somewhere safe until you cooled down enough for him to safely approach. He’d make it up to you somehow. He’d find a way to make you forgive him.

“She’s fine. Please, Ominis! You have to talk to her. I’ve never run so fast in my life.”

“You ran from her? What is wrong with you?” Poppy burst out, smacking Sebastian on the arm. He gave her a stunned look, unused to such outbursts from her. Ominis sighed sharply through his nose, shaking his head slowly.

“My friend, I’m afraid there is nothing I can do for you. She only gets angrier when they run.” Ominis’ lips pressed together in a firm line. Sebastian knew the bastard was trying not to smile. When they run. Sebastian knew he was right, he’d been on enough quests to rescue beasts with you that he knew how furious you got when you had to chase what you sought.

“I’ll buy all your butterbeers for the rest of the year!” Sebastian burst out. Ominis tilted his head, considering the offer. Sebastian bounced on his feet, anxious to get to safety.

“Go. I’ll try to talk to her.” Ominis said, smirking.

“SALLOW!” Your voice boomed through the hallways, and Sebastian turned and ran.

“My goodness! What happened to you?” Poppy Sweeting asked.

“Where is he?” You snapped, and Sebastian took a pinch of floo powder and went as far away as he could.

You knew Sebastian had put Ominis and Poppy up to pacifying you, and while your friends hadn’t eliminated all of your anger they had made you promise not to kill Sebastian. He should consider himself lucky that you respected Ominis and Poppy far too much to go against their wishes. You were cold, damp, and uncomfortable, so you had decided to give up your hunt and make your way to the showers. You stood in the warm water, letting it rinse off the remnants of nasty lake water from your hair and body. You were absorbed in fantasies of revenge as you ran your hands through your hair to loosen some of the knots that had formed during your pursuit of Sebastian. The warm water was a blessing compared to the frigid and dingy lake.

You let out a little hiss when a cold breeze pushed around the steam you had accumulated in the shower room leaving goosebumps all over your body. You shrank further into the shower, annoyed thoroughly with whoever was intruding on your murder plotting time. When the steam closed around you again, you sighed with contentment and closed your eyes. Broad hands gripped your hips. You knew those hands. Sebastian planted kisses on your shoulder as his chest pressed against your back. You ignored him, just as you ignored how easily his touch affected you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, nudging your cheek with his nose before kissing your jaw. “Let me make it up to you.” He said, pulling you back closer to him. You could feel his hardness pressed against your backside, and it took a lot of effort to not react. You fought to keep a straight face as his hands moved from your hips. One hand moved up towards your chest, the other down to your lower belly. Sebastian kept you pressed against him as his knuckles lightly traced the underside of your breast. He leaned in and kissed your neck as his fingers brushed against your nipple. You were determined. Adamant. He wasn’t going to get a single thing from you. You could feel him watching you very carefully, and when he bit down on that spot where your neck met your shoulder you couldn’t stop your reaction. All it took was a slight tilt of your head, and he knew he had you.

“There’s my girl.” He murmured, his hand on your lower belly traveling downwards. His girl. Eternally possessive. When his fingers slid between your wet folds, he let out a dark laugh.

“I knew you wanted it. Look how wet you are already.” He said, nipping your ear with his teeth. He began to rub his fingers in small circles over your clit and you relaxed into his arms.

“I hate you so much.” You breathed out, one hand reaching back and gripping Sebastian’s thick hair.

“Mmmm I can tell.” The depth of his voice in your ear sent chills through your entire body as he kept up a steady, lazy pace between your legs. His other hand rolled your nipple between his fingers. You subtly ground your backside against Sebastian’s erection. You smirked at his abrupt groan. His fingers on your nipple pressed harder giving you a sharp pinch. You twisted enough to look up at him, marveling in his appearance. The flush of his cheeks, the fire in his eyes, the arrogant bastard smile playing at his lips. He let go of your nipple, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat. He turned you around and pushed you against the wall of the shower cubicle, not once stopping those lazy little circles that were quickly unraveling you. Your hands fell to your sides.

Sebastian kissed you then, deep and intense like he always did. His tongue brushed against your lower lip, and you opened up for him. His taste was intoxicating and mixed with the feeling of his teasing touch on your sensitive clit you were approaching an euphoric sensation. You moaned into his mouth as he slid two fingers inside of you.

“Fuck, I love it when you moan like that.” Sebastian’s voice was husky as he mumbled against your lips. He kissed along your jaw and down on your neck finding that spot that made you so weak. His hand moved from your throat up to your hair which he gripped tightly as his fingers curled delightfully inside of you making sighs and small moans tumble from your lips. How he could do so little to make you feel so good was incredible.

“It’s so hard to be patient for you and that sweet cunt,” his breath tickled your neck, “can you be a quiet girl for me?” He asked, fucking you with his fingers. Right. You were in the shared showers during a Saturday afternoon where all of your classmates had all the free time in the world. You nodded, and instantly regretted it from the grin on his face as his fingers slid out of you and he knelt on the ground in front of you. One hand prompted your left leg to lift, you obeyed and he put it over his shoulder. Sebastian’s hands floated up and down your thighs as he moved in closer. He bit down on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, and your hand flew to your mouth to stifle your cry. He looked up at you with those eyes of fire, his tongue experimentally swiping along your entrance.

“Sweet. My sweet girl.” He gave a low groan, and started his assault. His tongue swiped shapes over your clit, and you had to bite down on your hand to stop yourself from making too much noise. He flattened his tongue lapping you up, you were already sensitive from his earlier work and it wasn’t taking long for an orgasm to start building up. He seemed to know it too. His tongue swirled over your clit, and he slotted two of his fingers back inside of you.

“F-fuck, Sebastian.” You stammered against your hand at the overwhelming sensation. The pressure of his tongue against your clit and his fingers curling against your sweet spot… it was too much. Your head fell back as you began to fall apart, your fingers lacing in Sebastian’s hair for fear that he would stop. You bit down harder on your hand to choke on the scream as your legs began to tremble. Sebastian moaned against you as you came for him. He let you ride out your orgasm on his face, not stopping until your fingers loosened slightly from his hair. You looked down to see him rock hard, flushed, and his eyes seemingly begging for you.

You took him under his chin, your leg falling to the side as you prompted to stand. He stood, his fingers once again leaving you empty. His hands curled around your ass, and he lifted you and pinned you between him and the cubicle wall. Your legs squeezed him, holding yourself up as he positioned himself at your entrance. His lips crashed against yours when he thrust inwards, both of you making a desperate attempt to remain quiet. His hips rolled as he fucked you hard and steady. When he was feeling particularly cruel, he would edge you until you were in tears, however today he was in just as much need as you were. You loved the way he filled you up. His steady pace had his head lightly pressing your cervix, hitting all the right spots. You hadn’t realized how good someone could make you feel until you’d slept with him for the first time. With the way he was fucking you, you could feel your pleasure rapidly approaching for the second time in a matter of minutes.

Sebastian was in your ear, whispering about how much he loved you, how he’d always protect you, and how he was oh so sorry for letting you jump into that lake for the Grindylows to attack. You were in ecstasy, unable to respond as he ground his pelvis against your sensitive bud. His rhythm faltered slightly, and you knew he was close.

“I love you.” You breathed out, knowing it was exactly what he needed to hear. His response was a low, guttural groan. His thrusts got sloppier, before he abruptly pulled out. You dropped your hand quickly, wrapping around his shaft and finishing him off as he came all over your stomach. Your legs dropped to the ground, and Sebastian’s head dropped to your shoulder as you both fought to catch your breath. After a few heartbeats, his head lifted and he kissed you again. His kisses after sex were always so sweet, so emotional.

“Are you okay?” He asked you, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze as he stood up straight. You nodded, admiring the loving glow in his eyes.

“I really am sorry.” He promised.

“I know, Sebastian. It’s alright.” You caressed his cheek, and he pulled you in for a long embrace. You stood like that for a long time, before cleaning off properly and getting out of the shower before someone could catch you in there together. You felt relaxed now, your anger completely forgotten as Sebastian put a fluffy bathrobe around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your cheek. He may be sweet now, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he filled you with so much rage you thought you could kill him. At least you could look forward to how he would make up for it.

“So, are we still splitting the treasure 50-50?” Sebastian asked, grinning at you. You smiled back at him shaking your head at his audacity, perhaps he would be making it up to you sooner than you thought.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow smut #ominis and poppy mentioned but not clogging their tags #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow one shot #in this episode we're discovering i need to work on filling in detail/pov changes/sentence structure/past present tense consistency #reni writes #good morning everyone lol have 3k words of sebastian

[anar-k3y]

Yandere Alphabet

:Tartaglia

TW/CW: yandere topics(kidnapping, murder, ect), unedited

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Tartaglia

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Tartaglia loves buying his darling expensive gifts and taking them on trips- he just loves looking after them! he's also the type to have a hand holding his darling all the time, if he isn't holding them- he is, you just can't see where his hand is

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Very. Tartaglia enjoys killing those that get in the way of him and his darling, they were in the way, they deserved to die!

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

he does mock his darling a little, mostly teasing them for how easy it was for him to get them there, even with the resistence they gave him.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

he does kill, and he's rather controlling.. but he won't go much further then that with going directly against his darling.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Tartaglia has to keep a lot of secrets from his darling, mostly due to his job as a harbinger, as much as he wants to tell them everything, there are some things that must stay hidden. he does tell them everything about his family and homeland- He'll tell them everything that won't get them hurt.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Tartaglia would find it entertaining to see his darling attempty to fight against him- I mean.. Do you really think you could stop him? you're his now. That wasn't an option.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

He enjoys hunting his darling down, he finds it thrilling, the man loves fighting. although when he's in a bad mood, he just wishes you'd be good and stay at home, it'd be much easier that way.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

when he gets them back home when he's in a bad mood from work. He's not great to be around when uoset, he didn't mean to hurt you. he just needs you to obey him.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Tartaglia wants a tame life in the wilderness of Sneznaya, one where he and his darling live together is a cabin far away with a few kids. He would love a future like that, he hopes his darling would also want that.. He'd even settle for 1 kid! He just wants them to live comfortably as a family.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He is very jealous. He'd see you chatting with a stranger, no flirting from either person and he'll wrap his arms around you and glare at the person until they leave- only to smile so happily at you and change the conversation to something else.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He's like a puppy- or a ginger cat, very affectionate and stupid, he loves his darling, and they make him happy, let him give you kisses and cuddle you.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Tartaglia takes you to a restaurant, where he's made all the preparations. he'll ask yopu over a nice dinner to date him- he doesn't even do it dramatically, he'd have completely forgotten his original plan by the time you both started eating. and eventually he just asks- just blurts out "will you be my -?"

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else

yes. Tartaglia is very different- his true colours are violent and wat you'd expect from a war criminal- but normally he's a happy sweet guy, don't get him wrong! he's kind and he loves you, he's a family man in his heart, but when it comes to protecting his darling, or worse.. having to keep them from going against him? a flip switches in his brain and suddenly, he's not so sweet.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

it'a a range of things, in some cases, he stops giving you gifts and presents in other cases he'll not give you food- in others, he'll hit(mostly a slap). though that is rare.. it does happen.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

He keeps his darling with him as much as he physically can- Tartaglia does need to leave them for work and he hates when he has to do that, because then he can't protect you(he'll have some fatui scouts watching you), no matter where you go- he's watching.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

a large amount, he is fairly patient, the man enjoys fishing- he knows patience, but.. don't makr him wait too long.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

He can't move on- he mourns them everyday if their dead. if they leave or escape- he searches for them everyday, he will hunt them down until he's dead.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

no and no. His darling is his. he chooses what happens to what is his.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

A part of him is just possessive- he's seen what happens to people in horrible situations like the abyss or falling into the hands of another one of the harbingers. He doesn't want that for his darling.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

not much :>

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

his work- that's the only real guilt he has, that he has to leave you constantly due to his work.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

yes. he would. He'll do anything to keep you with him, even if it hurts him.. and you. But it hurts him more :<

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He will worship his darling- especially in bed, he throws love at them, he worships the ground they walk on.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

probably a year, maybe a little longer. but not multiple years- he is not that patient. Once he's obsessed, he will take action the moment he has a plan.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Yes.

#tartaglia #ajax #childe tartaglia ajax #childe #yandere #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

This was an urge I got this morning, set after Golden Days Of Winter and the sequel by @nrdmssgs

Guess whenever I'm about to have my period my need for fluff goes sky high lol. Unedited and unchecked lmao

Taglist: @glitterypirateduck @jamesrifftapes @sofasoap @mmyrrhh

Pulkovo Airport

''Stop laughing at me!'' Christine grumbled, swatting Nikolai's arm while the man kept teasing her, ignoring the looks of the people around them waiting at the Arrivals Gate.

''I'm not laughing at you, solnushko! I just find it endearing that you're so nervous to see your boyfriend''

''I saw him a week ago, and he's not my boyfriend'' Christine scoffed under her mask, ignoring the amused looks that both Olga and Nikolai were giving her.

''Of course not'' Olga smiled gently, and glared at Nikolai when he chuckled.

''So you're not dating''

''Of course not, that's childish'' Christine mumbled, trying to stand on her tiptoes to see among the crowd that was exiting the gates. ''Do you see him?''

''Not yet... oh, yeah, there he is'' Nikolai pointed vaguely in front of him and then waved his hand as high as he could. ''I'd say he looks pissed, but when doesn't he look pissed?''

Nik blinked when he looked down and suddenly, Christine wasn't there.

''And off she goes'' Olga sighed, still smiling, and when Nikolai wrapped an arm around her shoulders she happily snuggled against him, relieved of her duty.

''Totally not dating'' Nikolai was still laughing under his breath, and then laughed louder when she nudged him with her elbow.

*

Ghost was pissed, though. It was clear in his tense shoulders and back, in the way he gripped his duffel bag, in the way he glared upon those that didn't move fast enough out of his way.

He had spent the last two days in several planes and was mostly done with everything and everyone, and the only thing that he wanted was to be the fuck alone and in silence.

Of course, when he saw Nikolai towering over the sea of heads in front of him, Ghost knew the 'silence' part would not be likely to happen. Squinting, he saw Olga beside him, elbowing him on the side for some reason.

And then he saw the blonde head he was looking for, gliding among the crowd in his direction, sometimes even pushing people out of the way, and without realizing, his pacing grew faster.

He even shoved aside a couple of rowdy idiots, but he couldn't care less. The only thing that he wanted right now was to scoop her up in his arms and that was exactly what he did when she was at reach.

Ghost bent down to wrap an arm around the back of her thighs and lifted her up easily, burying his face in the crook of her neck as she circled his neck with her arms. He inhaled through his face mask, deeply, filling his chest with her scent, and nuzzled her neck when he heard her giggle, feeling her fingers tangling on his hair.

''Hi'' Christine whispered, her own covered mouth pressed tightly against his ear, and he maneouvred slowly to support both her and the duffel bag, lifting his head and placing both forearms under her arse as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

''Hi'' Simon whispered back, and closed his eyes for a moment when her forehead touched his. People were still walking past them, greeting others that have arrived in the same plane as him from Istanbul, but he ignored everyone.

''Missed you'' She murmured again, slightly brushing her covered nose against his, and he chuckled, returning the gesture a bit more vigorously, making her laugh.

''Missed you too'' God, how he wished the fucking airport was deserted, to kiss her properly. That would have to do for the moment.

Slowly, reluctand to set her on the floor, he walked towards Nikolai and Olga, listening to Christine chattering away about the things she had seen in The Hermitage Museum.

''Simon'' Olga nodded at him, smiling, and then blinked, surprised, when he reached a hand out to briefly clasp her shoulder and grip it warmly.

''Hi, Olga. Nikolai'' Simon nodded at the Russian, who in turn nodded back without losing his smile.

''Good to see you. Allow me'' Nikolai took Simon's duffle bag, ignoring the glare the other man gave him, and wrapped his arm around Olga's shoulders again to guide them out of the terminal. ''I bet you're hungry. Or sleepy. Maybe both? Let's go to the apartment so we can feed you and then have a nap''

''Not in the same bed, I hope'' Simon chuckled, and both Olga and Christine blushed and looked at him incredulously. Nikolai just barked a loud laugh that made some people look back at him.

''I wouldn't dream of that, I'd find a knife on my back, and I'm not sure which one of you would be the owner''

''Nikolai...'' Olga huffed, rolling her eyes, but had to smile again when looking back, she could see Simon and Christine playfully arguing. She wanted him to set her down because he surely was tired, and he was refusing.

Nikolai followed her gaze and then pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head, his heart swelling seeing her smile.

''Children, right?''

''They're hardly children, Nik. Simon is in his thirties, and Christine is almost there. They are...''

''Totally not dating?'' Nik wiggled his eyebrows at her, and Olga couldn't help but laugh.

''That's what they say''

#olga zhar samoilova #christine riot vega #simon ghost riley x christine riot vega #cod nikolai #cod ghost #cod riot #call of duty nikolai #call of duty ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x original character #simon riley x oc #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #cod oc #cod original character #call of duty original character #cod fanfic #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfiction

[tmntxthings]

howdy hey, i was wondering if i could request some headcannons for how the rise!TMNT would feel if after the events of the movie, their s/o or best friend (either or!) suddenly started helping them out alot, like making dinner for them or doing their chores for them ect. gn reader please! btw i love your stuff it's all so amazing<33

After the End

author’s note: sorry for the wait <333

warnings: angst, comfort ending, cursing, trauma, flashbacks, unedited

—————————————————————————

Raph

You had been Raph’s friend before the kraang invasion. So when you were finally able to go check in on him after everything was settled you hadn’t expected to see the lair in such a messy state. “Yeahhh, sorry for the mess” Raph said sheepishly. “It’s actually way better than it was yesterday…” Your eyes almost popped out at that statement.

You rolled up your sleeves and Raph stood in front of you shaking his head, “I didn’t invite you over to get you to clean! I was thinking we could go to the surface and get some pizza maybe?” “But!” you had started. And Raph was carrying you out of the lair despite your complaints of being able to help out. “I know I know,” he said. In your mind you were swearing to definitely help after eating pizza.

“So other than the state of your home, is everything else okay? What about the guys?” You asked gently as you chewed on a slice of cheese pizza. Raph sighed, “we’re getting by, I think everyone is trying to just push it aside…” you hummed in contemplation. Wondering if that was the healthiest thing to do. “Well I’m sure everyone will speak up if they have something on their mind,” you tried to stay optimistic.

Raph nodded and with that he inhaled the rest of the pizza. You snorted, finishing off the other slice you had claimed before he ate the rest. “Some things never change,” you smiled and he smiled back. “Now I’m helping out with the lair! And don’t tell me I can’t, because I want to” Raph rolled his eyes, you were so stubborn and he knew there was no way he would convince you otherwise. “Fine, just for today!”

Two weeks later and you were wiping the sweat from your brow. “I’d say mission accomplished!” You exclaimed as the rest of the brothers, Splinter, Casey, and April agreed. The lair was finally back to its original state. Anything that was trashed and Donnie couldn’t fix was considered garbage, which made for many trips up to the surface. Otherwise the lair looked mostly normal with a few upgrades here and there because Donnie couldn’t help himself.

“Home sweet home,” Raph sighed and he patted your head. “Thanks for helping Y/n, even though-“

“I knowwww I didn’t have to help, but Raph, there’s no where else I’d rather be. I mean you saved the world!! The least I could do is help my friend with putting back together his bangin’ home,”

Raph chuckled, “bangin’ for sure,” and he ruffled the hair atop your head. “JUST KISS ALREADY!” Leo shouted and bolted for it as you turned to blush and Raph was off chasing after the menace he called a brother.

Leo

You were beside Leo the moment he was placed on bed rest, tending to him since he was really injured after the kraang invasion. He’s lucky his self-sacrificing ass didn’t really get trapped in the prison dimension! You had cried into his blankets while he was unconscious and then cried all over again when he finally woke.

“Y/n, baby, I’m okay,” he reassured you. And you sniffed, wiping away your tears as you gave him a death glare. “No you are not! And it is okay Leo, it is okay to not be okay.” And the tough guy act he had been shouldering ever since he opened his eyes faded.

Tears pooling and slipping down his green cheeks as he voiced how scared he had been, at how he thought he hadn’t done enough and that he was going to die there, in that cold place where he felt like he belonged, because it was all his fault! He ranted and sobbed and you moved closer to him, holding his face to your chest gently. Cradling him and letting him say all that had been unsaid, the things he would never tell his brothers.

When the crying subsided, you heard his stomach growl. And trying to lighten the mood you said, “I know I’m not the best cook, but do you want me to fix you something?” Leo snorted, “I don’t know, you sure? I don’t want the lair to be burnt down, the guys just started fixing the place up!” He joked and you refrained from smacking his arm, sticking your tongue out instead.

“Don’t worry, I’ll only burn the kitchen down!” You said haughtily as you got up from your chair leaving Leo’s room. But before you could get far his good hand snagged your arm, “you don’t have to..” he said softly not looking at your face. “I want to,” you smiled, your hand going up to squeeze Leo’s and then he let you go.

Luckily for you, they had canned soup, which was something you knew how to make! Along with a turkey sandwich with all the fixings and a bag of chips since you didn’t know how hungry the blue turtle was. Now carrying it all back to Leo’s room was the only problem. You set everything on a big tray and maintained slow and steady steps all the way there. “Ta-da!” You said upon entering his room, placing the tray on top of his lap. “Wow what a feast!” Leo smiled up at you. “Oh well, you know I’m no Gordon Ramsey,” you said playfully. “My own five star michelin chef,” he teased in between bites.

Donnie

“Hello?” You called out into Donnie’s lab. It was quiet. Too quiet.. you knew things had happened. The lair did look different as you had quickly passed through, saying hi to Mikey in the living room and asking if Donnie was in his room or the lab. Mikey had pointed quietly to the lab in answer and you held your breath. Was it that bad? You thought to yourself.

You tried the door finding that it was unlocked which you were thankful for. “Dee?” You called out again, not getting a reply. He wasn’t at his work table, nor his swivel chair, not at his monitors either. You walked to the back of the lab, hoping that maybe he was asleep on the couch he kept back there. He wasn’t asleep. He was sitting on the couch. He had his elbows on his knees, hands holding his head, face down looking at the floor.

You stood there for a moment, you became unsure of yourself. But as you swallowed and cornered your resolve, you knew you couldn’t just turn back around. You wanted to be there for Donnie. “Hey Don, you okay?” You asked quietly, taking a few tentative steps closer to stand in front of him. His head hung lower, “Mhm, peachy.” His voice came out hard and sarcastic. “Do you wanna talk about it?” You asked, one arm coming to wrap around your other one, holding your elbow awkwardly.

“No I don’t Y/n. I think everyone knows what happened, I mean it’s recorded for the whole world to see. To watch as my brother faces off kraang alone as I go flying in the other direction completely useless.” His hands slowly slip from his face. As he gets to the end of his rant he began tapping on his wrist tech and a holographic image appears in between both of you. The scene where kraang moves too fast for Donnie to be able to get his tech-bo up and in a defensive position quick enough.

Both him and Mikey flying back from the power of kraang’s hit. Gravity doing the rest and forcing Raph to be portaled by Leo to save them. “I should’ve been there.” Donnie grounded out as the video replayed. “I should’ve been more prepared.” As he replayed the video for a third time. The tears in your eyes started to slip down your face. “WHY AM I-“ he breaks, his emotion choking him up before he cries out, “not good enough?”

You rush forward, pressing a button on his wrist tech and effectively stopping the video, turning off the holograph feature completely. “Donatello, do not do this to yourself.” You said your hands grabbing his and holding them. “You did everything you could, you fought back,” you squeezed his hands. He shook his head, “it wasn’t enough,” he took a shaky breath, “my best wasn’t enough and so it will never be enough.”

“Donnie!” You said in disbelief. “I-“ you sputtered trying to get a hold of the words, because you were just feeling so much right now. “That will never be you at your best Donnie, you grow every, single, day.” You were looking straight into his eyes, he wasn’t meeting yours. “You out of all people know that the past is only stepping stones to a brighter future, you will become faster, stronger, smarter. Because that’s who you are, you don’t have limits Donatello!”

His eyes met yours, and it was a first for you because you saw they held tears. “Oh Donnie,” you said softly, hurting because he was, “you think so?” he asked softly. “I know so,” you promised and he squeezed your hands back. Before pulling you into his arms, into his lap, wanting you close, needing your comfort now more than ever. You felt his body shake slightly as he cried silently into your shoulder. Your hands went up, holding the back of his head, letting the silence envelope you both.

It wasn’t until the shaking stopped and breathing deepened did you realize that he had fallen asleep. Holding you to his plastron. You just knew that he hadn’t slept in a while, probably hadn’t eaten either. But you didn’t move, you’d stay put until he woke up and then you’d get him something to eat. Donnie wasn’t the type to get so emotional, to let it consume him and drain him, but on the rare instances that it did happen, you would be there. You closed your eyes, hoping that he would wake up feeling a little lighter, that he took your words as the truth because you believed them to be so. I love you. Was your last thought as you slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Mikey

“I’ve got it!” You said as Mikey asked if anyone wanted pizza. “Huh?” He questioned looking up at you as you hopped on one foot, putting on your shoes. “I’ll go get it,” you said smiling, “just tell me which place you’re ordering from,” Mikey smiled, “oh okay! thanks Y/n!”

“Mikey can you lend me a hand?” Raph asked as he moved on to the work out room. All the weights and dumbbells were strewn about on the ground. “I’ll do it!” You said rushing to Raph’s side and started with the lightest. “Are you sure?” Mikey said coming to your side, going to pick up one when you stumbled for it instead. “Positive!” You smiled widely, giving him a wink. He tilted his head. A shy, confused smile on his face. “Thanks Y/n,” Raph said as he grunted picking up the heaviest weights possible.

“Alright guys, tonight’s the night, Mikey’s Special is back on the menu~” the orange turtle said enthusiastically as he hopped up from his bean bag heading for the kitchen. You were hot on his trail, watching as he immediately grabbed certain pans and pots for the dish he had in mind. “Hey Mike, I was thinking, what if I helped out??” You said following as he went to the stove. “No can do Y/n, Mikey’s Special is top secret even to you,” he booped your nose as he turned back around going for big spoons and spatulas. “I know but, your hands…” you spoke softly, worried you would hurt his feelings when that was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Y/n,” he said slowing down his movements as your words hit him. He knew you had been doing a lot for him lately. He had a feeling it was because of that. But it was different to actually hear it from your lips. “I can still use my hands,” he said defensively and you immediately put yours up, “I know Mikey, that’s not what I meant I just don’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself. You’ve only just healed..” and the more you talked the more you wished you hadn’t. His shoulders slumped and you felt incredibly horrible. “I- I’m sorry. I think it’s coming out the wrong way I just want to help,” you said quickly trying to make him happy again.

“I know,” he turned to face you, offering a sad smile. “But I can do this.” He said determinedly. You nodded, “okay well, if you need me I’ll be in the other room,” you said reflecting his smile. You walked out of the kitchen, holding your hands together, feeling his gaze follow you all the way out. You knew you were probably being a bit overbearing. But you couldn’t help it, seeing how badly Mikey’s hands had been hurt. The nerves damaged but were thankfully able to recover. His hands still shook every now and again but he was getting better. Immensely better.

Two hours later and Mikey called your name. You bolted into the kitchen and the smell of delicious food instantly hit your nose. “Oh wow Mike, that smells so good!” You said in awe, it had been awhile since he had cooked. He was beaming a smile now, “can you help me bring out the plates?” a knowing look in his eyes met yours and you nodded happily. “Of course!” You said going for the first plate that was piled up high with food. “Alright, now be careful it’s hot!” He warned. Thankfully the walk to the table wasn’t that long so the trip back and forth didn’t take up too much time. Everyone was seated and Casey was chowing down saying how this was the best thing he had ever eaten! Which he practically said for ever new dish he tried but Mikey was still over-the-moon flattered to hear it.

After everyone was done, and thanked the cook it was dish time and you readily offered. But everyone cleaned their own plate to which was how you and Mikey ended up being the last ones in the kitchen. “Be honest, from my before cooking to now, how would you rate tonight’s meal?” Mikey asked curiously and your answer was pondered upon only for a second. “I’d say a solid ten, honestly Mikey, you’re a boss in the kitchen,” and he chuckled. “What?” You asked and he just shook his head smiling, “you sound like Raph,”

“It’s a catchy catchphrase!” You laughed, admitting that you did totally just sound like Raph right there. “How about this, that dish was totally radical?” You amended and he flicked his wet fingers your way. Causing you to gasp. “I don’t say radical!” He laughed and it was your turn to flick water his way, causing his hands to go up defensively. “You do too! Or should I’ve said it was a whip-o-rama meal?!” You teased and the mischievousness in Mikey’s eyes was your only warming you got before the nozzle to the sink was turned on you. Drenching your face and hair! “Michael!!!” You squealed trying to grab the nozzle and spray him back but it was to no avail. So you decided you had to pull out the big guns and went straight for his face. Cupping your cold wet hands to his green cheeks and pulling his face close for to give him wet kisses.

The spraying stopped after two, and then his hands completely let go, in favor of pulling your body closer. Kissing you back with passion. “AHEM!” Leo’s obnoxious voice sounded a tad too close for comfort as you jumped back away from Mikey. Leo had created a portal and was waving his dish towards you, “Sorry to interrupt but, do ya think you can do mine? I’ll owe ya!” Leo cheesed and dropped the dish, you quickly caught it before it clattered to the ground. When you stood back up Mikey was nowhere to be found, but you could hear shouting and a lot of footsteps from outside the kitchen.

“I’m sorry!! How was I supposed to know you two were k-i-s-s-i-n-g?!” Leo part hollered, part sang. Only to let out a scream seconds later. “Can’t we talk about this??? Where’s Doctor Feelings?!” Leo begged for mercy and held in your laughter as you heard, “Doctor Feelings is gone and Dr. Delicate Touch is taking names and crossing them OUT!”

#tmnt fandom #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #turtle bros #leonardo #raph #donnatello #mikey #michelangelo #rottmnt hc #tmnt hc #hc #rottmnt movie #after the movie #rise tmnt movie #rise movie #spoiler alert #rottmnt angst #rottmnt #raphael hamato #leonardo hamato #donatello hamato #michelangelo hamato #rise turtles #rottmnt x y/n #rottmnt x reader

[gemini-sensei]

@sensei-venus Mermay is great and all, pretty mermaids with shimmery tails and whatnot, but I had an idea (unedited).

What about a mermaid!Reader that was like Ursula from the Little Mermaid? As in she's half-human, half-octopus? She has all her curves and the long tentacles. She swims through the water and swishes around, mostly keeping to the sea floor but will swim through open water happily.

But she's different from other merfolk around. She's a rare species of mermaid and for that, most other mermaids treat her differently. Mermen think she isn't as pretty as other mermaids.

I see it almost like the cliche bullying trope of grade school bullying carrying over to their older years. Like as guppies, other merchildren teased her for having tentacles instead of a tail. (A baby octopus is called a fry! Yes, I looked that up because I just had to lol) It makes her more than a little insecure and quiet in her older years, more in the background as others around her become pillars of their little community. She has friends, like Moon and Yasmine and Sam, but she knows that if anyone else were to come around, they'd prefer to hangout with her friends over her. She knows potential mates would choose one of them and not her.

But she has no idea that there is one person who's had his eye on her for a very long time. As a guppy, he was too scared and shy to talk to her much. He mostly hid and watched her from afar as she played with her few friends and made jewelry. Other guppies always said she'd go up to be a hag, but he never thought so.

Mer!Eli was always too scared of sharing his feelings, but they always grew bigger and bigger with each passing year. As they grew older, he only admired her more as she helped her friends, and even non-friends, with any problems they might have. She's so kind and generous. She's also fairly strong and he loves it, swoons over the fact that she could use her tentacles to lift the heaviest of debris or creature off the ocean floor and toss it aside like its nothing. He only wished he had the courage to talk to her beyond friendly hello's and well wishes. Sometimes he can't even do that.

So he sticks to hiding and watching her go about her day, though his friends are getting tired of it. Demetri is just tired of getting dragged behind big rocks and coral bushes just to spy on the girl. Miguel thinks he should just go ahead and make a move. But Eli can't do that... he knows he'll never be able to do something like that. She's way too pretty for him, failing to realize he's only thinking she's out of this league.

#merman!eli #shy!eli #quiet!reader #mermaid!reader #cobra kai mermaid au! #mermaid au! #mermay 2023 #eli moskowitz headcanons #eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz x chubby reader #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz #eli hawk moskowitz #hawk moskowitz #hawk moskowitz x chubby reader #hawk moskowitz x reader #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai #cobra kai headcanons #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai x chubby reader #cobra kai x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #gemini sensei

[tters]

Hello author, I do not know whether you're still writing for 'The Hobbit' but I have a request. Could you kindly craft a Thranduil x Reader fic where the reader is close to death and he's like, "Please don't leave me, my love, not you too." (my love is in elvish, I couldn't find the translation) (Also, she's his 2nd wife.) She doesn't die, hopefully.

Thank you so much for the request <3 I hope my writing isn't that bad as I've been inactive for a very long time! Enjoy!!!

Thranduil x Reader

TW! ⚠️ mentions of blood, injury, burn, nothing too graphic.

Unedited, 3am writings, bare with me pals 💖

Angst, fluff?! maybe, gender-neutral reader

Uploaded - 5/8/2022

You clasped a fist on your chest tying to catch your breath, every inhale becoming more painful second by second "it burns" you tried to scream but only a rushed whisper came out your mouth. You grasped as you felt a stronger pinch in your heart, your chest waving with each breath you tried to take. A moan left your lips as you felt a hand on your back suddenly "wh-" "it's me meleth nin" spoke Thranduil as calmly as he could, fighting his fear and worry back "what happened?" he asked hurriedly, the expression on his face matching your agonizing one "it burns me" you cried out, not even sparing a look to his eyes, that were so hopelessly searching for a physical injury. "Where?" He asked raising his voice "inside me, as if fire replaced my soul," you grasped again as you tried to take off your armor. He helped you move it aside before he saw for himself the damage of the dragon fire on your skin, the fire that didn't bend the elve's new-found metal but burned your skin and got trapped inside your body. Your tears fell from your eyes as thranduil took in your state, a skin red as blood, adorned by a golden dust shining like diamonds under the dawn's last sunlight on the top of erebor. It was known by most and especially thranduil the serpent's of the north wrath and ruin "you shouldn't have been here! I shouldn't have left you alone! This is all my fault, all my fault! I was a fool by overestimating my power, believing I could defeat them! Fight all of them as if I didn't know that they would eventually reach you too! As if I hadn't been myself destroyed by their flames before!--" He screamed over and over mostly to himself, as if he didn't believe it as if he didn't want to believe what was happening right before his very eyes " I I-" you tried to mutter a few words but you couldn't, your breath getting shorter by the minute, you grasped for air until your eyes rolled back in your eye sockets " no no no no no , I can't lose you y/n! No I can't! No please I can't lose you too" he screamed as he picked your weak form in his arms, your face lying on his right forearm "please help me" you spoke softly this time, as if the pain was leaving your body, as if his touch was magically taking your pain away "now now look my darling, look at the sun, look how it's hiding behind the mountains, look how beautiful the lake looks under the yellow light" he spoke to you as if both yours and his life depended on it "soon enough they'll come meleth nin, help will come"  he said as he hugged you closer the cold metal of his armor touching your bloodstained cheek as the long gray fabric of his cape covered your legs. You closed your eyes Taking in breath after breath. "They are here!" You heard Thranduil exclaiming over you "y/n they are here! The eagles are here!" You opened your eyes as you took in the picture of the big birds "you're safe now y/n, we're safe" he cheered, tears slowly sliding down his face "let's go".

#thranduil #the hobbit #lotr x reader #thranduil x y/n #thranduil x reader #mirkwood #legolas #lotr orcs #the fellowship x reader #x reader

[cream-and-tea]

LAY ME DOWN. chapter seven excerpt. unedited. featuring: agnes taking some time to explore her new surroundings and reflect on her old ones. blasphemy. implied homophobia. religious trauma. mild injury.

[Transcript under the cut]

hiiii! we’ve had pallas’s existential gender ponderings so it’s only fair that i post something that features much more heavily in the plot: Agnes And The Ongoing Sexuality Crisis! now go and listen to hallelujah (in your arms) by semler at least 50 times to accurately recreate the experience i had writing this chapter <3

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-). @vellichor-virgo​ @nicola-writes​ @doctormoss​ @gerbermatter​ @cactusprincewrites @houndmouthed @muddshadow @just-wublrful @midnights-melodiverse @corkywantstowrite @paradisiacalshroud @andromedatalksaboutstuff @kingsinking @lungs-and-gills @lychniscitrus @phantomnations

This isn’t the first time she’s dreamt of girls. 

Agnes considers that fact as she pulls everything out of the chest sitting at the foot of the bed (spare bedding mostly, sheets and quilts and pillowcases— multiple of each—and at least one heavy coat). They’ve never felt like that before though, clear and cold like water running over her skin, so obviously there. Most of the time she doesn’t even remember the other ones, just the feeling of them, waking up part ashamed and part euphoric (the euphoria always wore off long before the shame).

Agnes checks under the bed, then opens and closes the drawer on the end table, scoots it over to peer behind it, not really sure what she’s looking for. Secret passages maybe? Hidden traps? Something to let her know what the rules are here. 

There are, in her experience, at least three kind of rules in the world: the kind that people will tell you up front, the kind that they expect you to just know about and act surprised when you don’t, and the kind that they never say out loud but you can feel somewhere in your bones must be followed at all costs (We don’t talk about how Agnes sees ghosts and we don’t talk about how Agnes thinks about girls both fall into this category). Normally it takes her way too long to figure out which are which, she can’t afford to do that here where everything is already so confusing. 

Pallas would probably know all the rules, if she can find them, if they don’t make her brain explode when she does. Pallas had seemed to know everything about whatever this place is. What would they think of the girl in her dreams? They’re a weird and very sharp sort of person, she thinks, not really anything in particular at all. A why more than a what. If they weren’t definitely going to murder her if she looked at them wrong she would ask about that. 

There’s nothing in the desk but pencils, pens and a stack of notebooks. There’s nothing under the rug or behind the dresser filled with clothes that all look her size. The bookshelf is half full of titles she doesn’t recognize. She’s too weak to climb up to and push aside the strange painting of a human-faced deer full of arrows that hangs over the fireplace. When she limps her way to the bathroom the tub is still full and stagnant from when she filled it the night before but her clothes have mysteriously vanished from their crumpled pile on the floor. 

Agnes sways, then sits on the edge of the bathtub to appease her screaming ankle. She swings one leg into the water, hoping that will somehow help the pain, presses the heels of her hands into her eyes. “Okay. Okay okay okay.”

Things she knows: This is a library in a forest a long time after libraries stopped being something people thought about (her mother is dead). This library is supposedly full of people like her and people like Pallas (her Papá is gone). It’s going to teach her about what she is (her mother is dead). It’s not going to be easy (her mother is dead). She shouldn’t tell anyone her name (her mother is dead). The Library is supposed to save the world. (her Papá is gone). There are doors in trees that lead to tunnels that lead to here and things that look like dogs but aren’t and people that can bend blood and flesh and a Director who’s office sits in the void with a sword hanging above it in suspended animation (her Papá is gone and her mother is dead her Papá is gone and her mother is dead but somehow she is alive alive alive).

Things she doesn’t know: How exactly The Library is going to save the world. What The Library knows about the men in white. Where the men in white could have taken Papá. How these people can teach her about ghosts. How this place stands untouched in a forest that consumes everything around it. Why the girl in her dreams was asking her to find her. Whether or not there will be people her age here. Why the dogs and the Director and the librarian remind her of what the men in white did to her mother. Where her clothes went. If she’ll ever see Pallas again or if they’ve left her for good. If God hates her or not. Why there’s a sword in the Directors office. If there’s a place she can get food. If there’s any point to the deer painting or if it’s there just to creep her out. 

The closest thing they’d had to art on the walls back home was a wood-burned etching of the Virgin Mary that sat propped on a shelf above the kitchen table. Papá had made it for Mother for some anniversary and it really was very beautiful, dark line’s swirling across polished cedar. Her mother loved it and Agnes loved it too, there was something mesmerising about how the natural whorls and grain of the wood mixed with scratchy charcoal dark swirls. She’d liked the way the Mother of Gods eyes were ever so slightly downcast, as if she wanted to look at you but couldn’t quite bring herself to. Agnes could relate to that. And then one night when she was thirteen and everything seemed awful forever she’d gone to bed late after too little time spent with Mother and too much time wandering with the ghosts and dreamt that the carving had come alive. 

Mary had still been the colour of wood in the dream, but soft to the touch, human and wrapped in flowing fabric. Agnes had been standing barefoot and bareshouldered in the middle of the kitchen and Mary had knelt in front of her very very close and Agnes had used to clumsy hands to move the veil from her hair and the Blessed Virgin's hair had come loose around her face and she’d put her carvedgirl hands on either side of Agnes’s face. 

Then Mary had said nos diligimus, quoniam ipse prior dilexit nos and put her lips close to Agnes’s and Agnes had woken up screaming like someone had doused her with boiling oil. 

This, obviously, woke her parents, but she’d been too sick with horror and shame to lie so instead had sobbed out everything into Papá’s shoulder. Then Mother had begun to talk in the high and strung out way that there was something very, very wrong and Papá had sent her to sit on the steps outside in the gnawing February air where she’d pressed her hands to her ears and her snot-streaked face to her knees, trying to block out the sound inside while a dead woman and her barely-there son had pressed to either side of her, trying to be comforting but really only making her colder.

She felt about the same then as she does now, half-awake and shuddery and like she could make one wrong move and the world would collapse in screaming fire around her, well-worn prayers buoying in her heavy head, bits of wood carried along by a torrent of floodwater.

Oh Lord, what’s happening to me.

Oh Lord, why why why why why.

#listen ok. listen it was so hard to decide which warnings to put at the top of this one #how dare i say can i accurately sum up ‘so one of my first Gay Awakening moments was with the wood burned carving of the virgin mary my pa #rents kept in our kitchen. yeah it was kind of hot. yeah it scarred me for life’ #i think i did well considering the circumstances lol #and yes despite this being in chapter 7 agnes will take the majority of the book to admit she likes girls #not that i blame her but babygirl. sweetheart. pls take a moment and sit down and think #it’s so funny bc for the entire story pallas is like i am so Brooding and Traumatized #i have Secrets That Must Never See The Light Of Day i am lying to myself at all times #meanwhile agnes is operating at a baseline repression level they can’t even DREAM of #it’s the growing up catholic <3 #wip: ghost story #creme does a writing

[ivyangels-blog]

Be My Valentine? (Rooster x Fem!Reader)

(gif credit to shelly.aep on tiktok)

Summary: When a game of dogfight football gets a little too rough, Rooster has your back. (Mostly fluff)

Warnings: mild injury, Hangman being an asshole, swearing, sexism, my terrible unedited writing

———————————————————————

When Maverick first told us we would be ditching the normal training today, none of us were quite sure what to expect. However, a friendly game of football certainly wouldn’t have been my first guess.

“The rules are simple,” Maverick tells us. “You’re playing offense and defense at the same time.”

“What are the teams?” Hangman asks.

Mav shrugs. “Uh, team captains… Hangman and Rooster.” He points at the two of them and walks back across the sand to stand by the rest of us, while Hangman and Rooster step forward.

The two rock, paper, scissors for first pick and Hangman wins.

“Payback,” he says, calling him over to his side.

Rooster picks Coyote and then Hangman chooses Fanboy.

When Rooster picks Phoenix, I’m starting to lose hope on not being the last pick.

Rooster’s my only chance, since there’s no way Hangman will ever pick me unless he has to- and even then he’ll probably throw a fit about it.

One sexist remark too many led me to punch him across the face after our Top Gun graduation. What can I say? I thought I’d never see him again, but then we got called back for this special mission and it’s easy to tell Hangman hasn’t forgotten about what I did.

Hangman surveys the rest of us left, preparing to pick when he eyes Maverick beside me.

“Maverick,” Hangman says with a smirk.

Rooster protests, saying that Mav wasn’t an option, but Maverick joins Hangman’s team.

“Don’t worry,” Phoenix claps a hand on Rooster’s shoulder. “That old man won’t be able to keep up.”

Rooster shakes his head as everyone chuckles. “Um, Valentine.” Rooster points to me, motioning me over to his side.

I smile when he says my call sign, one that I got years ago after asking if we were going to get the night off for Valentine’s Day, since I had a date planned with my boyfriend. Everyone on the unit had laughed at me, and it hadn’t turned out to be worth it because I was told my date could wait until the weekend and my boyfriend, tired of barely getting any time together, broke up with me that night. I never told anyone that, though, I was too embarrassed.

A few minutes later, and the rest of the teams have been picked and we split off onto two sides of the beach.

The boys all start shedding their shirts, deciding to play topless.

I have to avoid staring at Rooster as he tosses his shirt aside, abs on full display. I’ve had a huge crush on him for awhile, almost the whole time we were at Top Gun together, but I never made a move. I think I was just too scared of being stood up by a guy I liked again, and if the guy was Rooster than there’s no way I’d be able to keep the rejection a secret from the rest of the unit.

Phoenix and I take our shirts off as well, playing in our sports bras.

At Hondo’s whistle, we start the game and it’s pure chaos. Everyone is everywhere, all shouting different things.

“Val!” I hear my name and turn, catching the ball as Phoenix throws it to me before being tackled, I look to the end zone and, seeing a clear path, run through to score a point.

“Nice!” Rooster’s voice comes from behind me, but before I have time to turn. His arms are around me, lifting me up into the air and spinning me around.

His bare skin against mine sends a warmth through my body. I never want it to end, but a few seconds later he’s placing me back down in the sand.

I turn around to look at him, but he’s already grabbed the ball and taken off to continue the game.

I’m on my way to follow him when Hangman bumps past me.

“Watch it!” He shoots me a glare before going after the ball.

I roll my shoulders, glaring right back before rejoining the game.

I manage to intercept a pass Maverick was sending across the beach and search for a teammate to throw it to. I catch sight of Rooster in the end zone, waving to me. With a snap of my arm, I throw the ball to him and he catches it, immediately dropping it to do a victory dance.

I laugh at him, but my giggles are cut short as I’m knocked to the ground. I’m sure a shout leaves my mouth as my left ankle twists in the sand.

“Sorry.” Hangman’s face appears above mine, looking anything but sorry. He moves to run off, but I swing my right leg out catching his feet and sending him sprawling onto the ground beside me.

I go to stand up, but struggle to put any weight on my left foot. It turns out not to matter, before I’m even close to getting to my feet, Hangman’s arms are around me, shoving me back into the ground.

“Bitch,” he mutters, swinging at me with his fist, which I only manage to partially avoid.

Pain erupts on the side of my face and I swing blindly back at Hangman, doing hardly any damage when I’m trapped underneath him.

“Hey, hey, get off her man!”

Hangman is pulled away from me, and I look up to see Rooster tugging him off me.

“What’s wrong with you?” Rooster shouts at him.

“Equal rights, equal fights,” Hangman shouts, turning away to join his teammates.

“Are you okay?” Rooster asks, offering me his hand.

“I’m fine.” I take his hand, allowing him to pull me to my feet. The other lieutenants are looking at me warily, but I give them a thumbs up and they hesitantly return to the game.

I stand up beside Rooster, but wince when I put weight on my twisted ankle.

“You sure you’re alright?” Rooster looks down at my foot and then back up at me, concern etched on his face.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna go sit down for a few minutes. Maybe grab a drink.” I motion up to The Hard Deck and take a few steps in the direction of the bar, limping as I go.

“Here, let me help you.” Rooster grabs my arm, pulling it around his neck and rests his hand in the curve of my waist holding me up so I only have to use my right foot to walk.

“Thanks,” I say, pretending to focus on my feet so I don’t have to try and keep my cool at the sight of his dazzling smile.

We make it up to The Hard Deck and Penny freaks out upon seeing us. She immediately motions us over to the nearest booth, pulling up a chair for my foot and returning with an ice pack and a couple beers.

“You need me to drive you to a doctor?” Rooster asks.

I shake my head. “I think it’s just sprained.”

Rooster nods, taking a sip of his beer. I do the same, wondering if he’s planning on sitting here with me the whole time. Before I can tell him I’m fine and he should go back to the game, he’s taking off his aviators and leaning across the table.

“Damn, Hangman got you good,” he mutters, brushing his fingers against my cheek where Hangman punched me.

“Not as good as I got him,” I mutter, sipping at my beer again.

Rooster’s brow furrows and he glances out the window to where the rest of the unit is still playing.

“Not today,” I clarify. “It was awhile ago, after our graduation ceremony.”

“I’ve been wondering why you two have been at each other’s throats since we came back. You punched him?”

I nod. “He kept asking where my boyfriend was, said that I made him up. Then he… implied I should spend the night with him instead.” I save Rooster the graphic details of Hangman’s comment. “So, I punched him. Doesn’t matter if he was right.”

Rooster’s eyes dart over my face. “About him… and you…”

“Oh, god no. I was right to turn him down.” I sigh, looking down at my beer. “He was right about my boyfriend. I made him up.”

Rooster looks even more confused than he did when he thought I wanted to hookup with Hangman. “Hold on, so your Prince Charming, Ben Davis, who you talked about all the time, never existed?”

“No, he did, he does. We just broke up, it was actually right around Valentine’s day, he was upset I couldn’t make it to dinner.”

“Shit, that sucks.”

“It’s fine, I mean in hindsight he wasn’t even that great.”

“Yeah, but if I’d have known you weren’t seeing anyone I would’ve asked you out a long time ago.”

My head snaps up at his words and I’m met with that breathtaking Rooster grin.

“You would’ve?” I ask.

“Hell yeah, but I guess I can just settle for doing it now.”

My eyes widen at his words. “Valentine,” he says. “Would you want to go out with me?”

I’m struggling to figure out what to say. “I’d love to.”

Rooster’s grin grows impossibly more brilliant. “Great, I think I’m free on Valentine’s day-” His grin turns cocky as I cut him off.

“Oh, shut up,” I snap at him, but I’m sure my smile is shining as bright as his.

#top gun #rooster top gun #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #rooster fluff #miles teller #rooster x reader #actors #fanfic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader

[sensei-venus]

Could I maybe ask for demetri x mom reader (only if you want to tho)

(I didn’t really add any smut in this, will if anyone wants me to) (made the baby a girl in this) (unedited)

•Demetri is a toss up at first. Don't get me wrong but he was most likely one of the first people to hear about the “She has a baby”  rumor. Demetri always seems to be around when mass amounts of gossip is being talked about around the school. He probably doesn't even mean too but he's accidentally spending the information to others, mostly his friends at the dojo. He probably doesn't even realize how rude it is, talking about her behind her back like that.

•They end up being partners in class for a project and that's when his curiosity starts to peak. She acts prey normal and she’s super nice, he notices how soft spoken she is the whole time when they are in class together working. He does most of the work because he already knows about the subject they are working on really well. She is actually more interested in him then anything and she finds his rambling to be cute, she says so herself. He can’t help the blush that forms on his cheeks as he looks around the room.

•Overtime he starts to realize she has grown on him as they spend more time together. She sits with him at lunch and talks to him about all kinds of things. She doesn’t get mad or upset if he ramble’s on about different topic’s, Hawk would call him a nerd for it or Sam would get bored of his conversations. Reader would only add on to what he was talking about or would ask questions. She hung off every word he would say. She even laughed at his bad jokes and sarcastic comments.

•It took him a while to admit his own feelings. He's never actually meet a pretty girl who likes to hear him go on and on about random stuff like comics and video games. She liked hearing what was on his mind and he liked hearing what she had to say. They where both smart people.

•One day at lunch he just comes out and asks if they had a baby. She tells him she does, a little girl. She shows him a picture of the little girl on her phone, all bundled up in a pink blanket with big round eyes looking up. He can't help but let his sarcastic nature roll away as he looked at this cute little eyes. Reader explains that she wanted to tell him, but she didn't know how he would respond to the news. She already had enough bad experiences telling people she had a kid. He quickly nods, understanding what she meant. He secretly feels bad for being someone who helped spread her personal information.

•One day he gets a phone call from her, she’s frantic as she explains she’s stranded on the side of the road, with her baby, because her car broke down. She’s borderline crying because not only did the car completely breakdown but the ac won’t come on while they wait for a tow truck. It’s over 100 degrees outside. Her baby is crying and hot and she doesn’t know what to do. Demetri shove’s his ego aside and does the only thing he can think of, barrow Hawk’s car and goes and picks them up.

•They end up going back to her place where they are out of the heat and she can feed the baby. Demetri can’t help but glance over as the baby stops crying and suckles on Readers breast. The little one is finally cool and being feed. In that moment he just couldn’t stop looking at the two of them with a smile on his face. Reader soothes the baby as it feeds, she runs a gentle hand over the baby’s back and she coos at her. Before long the baby is done and Reader is pattering her on the back trying to make her burp. Once she’s done she’s about to put her down but then her phone rings which is in her bedroom. She rushes for a moment before handing the baby off to Demetri.

•Demetri doesn’t even know what is happening. Next thing he knows he’s holding the baby girl. For a good minute he’s scared she’s going to start crying because he probably would if a stranger was holding him. But she just moves around in his arms and then reaches out for his nose and cheeks. Her littler fingers grip along his face as she gargles at him. She blinks up at him as she babble’s. He rocks her as he starts to get the hang of holding her, he’s happy that she’s not crying at him holding her. He gently talks to her for a little while. He can’t help but smile at her cuter face.

•When Reader comes back he’s hesitant, he doesn’t want to give her back.

“I can hold her for a bit longer if you have anything you want to do around here. Free babysitting you know?”

The rest of the day is spent with him holding the baby. Reader cleans around her apartment and ends up making dinner for the two of them. He ends up staying for dinner and the two of them laugh about how hectic the day was. Before he leaves he works up the courage to look her in the eyes and say “This may sound stupid, it might even look it but I want to give this a shot. Me and you and your daughter. I was really scared at first, with the idea of having a baby, but if it’s with you, maybe it won’t be as scary. Can you give me a chance at least? To try this out?” He’s meet with a hard kiss that has him shocked but not enough to not kiss back.

•After a while of dating, Demetri full embrace’s being a father to Readers baby. But he’s way to overprotective and slightly controlling out of fear. He doesn’t want them hurt. That’s why it’s a surprise when he has Reader and the baby come to class at the dojo to watch him. Everyone is surprised when he kisses Reader gently before placing a small kiss on the baby’s forehead before going over to the others to practice. But he wants to show off to his baby. He’s also extremely admit on showing his baby how fighting should be for defense, even if they are literally just a baby right now. Everyone at the dojo just goes along with it, it is Demetri.

#cobra kai #cobra kai blog #cobra kai ask blog #cobra kai headcanons #demetri alexopoulos #cobra kai demetri #single mom reader #cobra kai x chubby reader #cobra kai x reader #plus size reader #Demetri Headcanons

[bluefuckboy]

Pencils and Pining

Day 1 Prompt of sfw DabiHawks Week: college au. Also up on ao3

WC: 4574

CW: none. Mentions of sex talk.

A/N: this is fluffy I don’t know where it came from. Unedited cos I ain’t got that kinda time

Keigo Takami had always gotten what he wanted. It was effortless. His natural charm and refusal to ever back down from a challenge meant there was little he couldn’t do. He’d gotten into a prestigious school full ride on just a sports scholarship, and he wasn’t even all that good. Sure he could get the ball from point A to point B. But it wasn’t like he was some sort of rugby god. He knew it was thanks to his personality that he got in.

He was the perfect poster child for the college’s team, The Raptors. Their mascot was a bird of prey that could have been a hawk or possibly an eagle. No one really knew, which is why they generalized it into Raptor. Their school colors were red and gold, which complimented Keigo’s flaxen hair perfectly.

There was little that didn’t compliment him to be honest. The royal red jersey made his aureate eyes pop as he gave winks to fans during matches. His scrum shorts hugged his ass just right. His cleats were even custom made. Gold aside from the trimming, laces and studs. He strutted around the field like a bird of paradise.

Girls had been falling at his feet since first of semester and half the guys on the team had asked him for advice on how to get girls to like them. He liked being the center of attention and was more than happy to give pointers on how to be suave and charismatic. But at the end of the day, no one measured up to his innate charm and carefree personality.

He knew he was the whole package, and yet, one student was never impressed by him. Touya Todoroki, a senior art student who spent most of his time holed up in the art building. Keigo had no reason to be by that part of the campus aside from it being a shortcut to the rugby pitch, which is how he met Touya. Or rather nearly took him out by crashing into him.

He’d been late for practice and decided to sprint from his dorm to get his heart rate up and make up time, two birds with one stone as they say. Practice was after classes but before dinner, so most students studied or got in another nap during that time. That assumption was what landed Keigo on his ass after smacking into the lanky art major.

He’d ran square into the chest of Touya, knocking the wind out of him as Keigo was knocked to the ground.

“Shit! My bad!”

Keigo was on his feet again in the bat of an eye, hovering by Touya, who was doubled over wheezing as he tried to regain his breath. Keigo never paid attention to students that didn’t want his attention, so it was the first time he’d seen this art major, or rather the top of his head as he inhaled raggedly.

He was dressed in mostly black aside from an old and slightly oversized sweatshirt which was zipped halfway over a band tshirt from which Keigo could see the letters ”ED ZEP” in red. Touya’s charcoal jeans were torn at the knees, cuffed at the bottoms to sit above the all black Chuck Taylors he wore.

As he stood up Keigo could see his face, which was set in a scowl. If he weren’t looking at Keigo so murderously, Touya would probably be handsome, if not a little rough around the edges. His hair was an ashen white, sweeping in front of intense turquoise eyes narrowed at Keigo. He had enough piercings to set off a metal detector. Most were on his ears aside from a triple nose stud in his right nostril, snake bites and a bridge piercing which Keigo couldn’t decide if it looked painful or not.

A pair of black painted fingernails snapped in front of Keigo’s face. “Hey birdbrain! The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Keigo blinked. “Uh. Going to practice?”

“And trying to kill people in the process?”

“No. Sorry I just didn’t see you there man.”

Keigo put on one of his signature smiles, getting a scowl from Touya in return. Keigo put his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Really it was an accident.”

Touya stooped down between them, picking up a pencil that was snapped in half. He held it in front of Keigo’s face.

“You owe me a new pencil.”

Keigo pushed the pencil out of the way with a finger. “Oh come on. It’s just a pencil bro.”

“I’m not your bro and I don’t care.” Touya pressed the broken pencil against Keigo’s chest. “Don’t you dare get me one of those soft tips. 3B or higher, got it?”

Keigo nodded despite having no clue what 3B meant. Touya pressed the pencil harder against Keigo, who brought a hand up to catch it when Touya’s long fingers drew back. The art student gave Keigo another murderous scowl before trudging off towards the dorms, leaving Keigo with a broken pencil and a blush on his cheeks.

Touya was his type and then some. An artsy “bad boy” with blue eyes and gorgeous hands. It was like one of his fantasies had come to life. Except Touya had made it very clear he loathed Keigo. Keigo didn’t blame him as he had knocked the air out of him pretty bad. But all the fuss over a broken pencil? It seemed a tad excessive.

Keigo held onto the pencil, tucking it in his drawstring bag and forgetting about it until he tossed the bag onto his bed later that night. Practice had been a doozie and he was sore as fuck. He flopped down on his bed, pulling the pencil out and turning it over in his fingers.

The tip of the pencil was rounded and worn down, the eraser merely a nub. It was clear it was a well used tool. Keigo’s fingers brushed over teeth marks on the end of the pencil. Of course Touya chewed on his pencils, how could he not. He probably let them hang out the side of his mouth absentmindedly.

Keigo shook his head as his mind began to wander. He hadn’t anticipated being hit in the face with well, a crush? And especially literally. His ass was still sore from hitting the pavement.

He sighed and let the pencil drop to his chest. At least his assignment to replace the pencil meant Touya would have to see him again. But first he needed to figure out what the fuck 3B meant.

.

It didn’t take Keigo long to find another pencil. The campus bookstore sold them by the pack so he just grabbed the one that had 3B on it. He tapped the pack against his chin in thought as he made his way to the art building. A couple of freshmen in the lobby gave him odd looks. He supposed he didn’t look like an art student.

He was wearing his varsity jacket and his favorite pair of jeans, which were crisp and a deep denim. He pushed his aviator sunglasses up over his messy golden locks.

“You guys know… uh.”Shit. He had no idea what the guy’s name was. He cleared his throat, “I’m looking for a guy, bout this tall, white hair, blue eyes, looks like he’s trying to bring punk back from the dead?”

One of the freshmen rolled their eyes. “Todoroki. He’s probably on the top floor.”

Keigo thanked the freshman and made his way to the stairwell. His sneakers squeaked on the tile as he rounded the stairs, jogging his way up to the top floor. He pushed the door open, poking his head out into the hall.

It was quiet. He let the door shut, regretting it as it slammed loudly. No one came to chastise him so he made his way down the hall. He peered into the rooms as he passed. They were empty, probably for the best as he knew it would be odd to see someone with their nose pressed up to the glass window in the door.

When he reached the last door he noticed it was open a crack. He slipped inside, taking care to shove the doorstop back in place so the heavy door didn’t shut. The room was full of easels, some with canvases and some without. Keigo peered at the canvases as he made his way further into the classroom.

The canvases that were there each depicted the classic bowl of fruit he’d seen in so many artsy movies. Each piece was a different style. Some were messy, others crisp and clean. One was merely colors where each fruit should be. An easel on the far side caught his eye.

The piece sitting on it was black and white, like an old photograph. Eerily like a photograph. The lines and shading were so precise it looked like someone had just taken a picture and placed it on the canvas. Keigo stepped closer, peering at the differences in shading.

There was an area that was very dark. It looked almost raised due to the amount of layers that made up the shading. Ever curious and obvious Keigo put a hand out, tracing it with his finger and regretting it imminently. The charcoal smudged messily as he heard a voice behind him suddenly.

“Wow you are good at fucking things up.”

Keigo spun around. Touya was standing a few feet from him. He was dressed in the same outfit aside from a fresh tshirt. Keigo put his hands up as though he’d been caught, which technically he had.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think it was gonna smudge like that.”

Touya sighed. He made his way over to the canvas, producing what looked like gray play dough from his pocket. He took the object and rolled it between his palms a bit, forming it into more of a oval. He put it against he canvas, using it like an eraser to get rid of the smudge Keigo had made.

Keigo’s eyes boggled and he pointed excitedly to the gray lump as Touya pulled it back, “What is that thing?”

Touya raised an eyebrow, but let Keigo inspect the blob and he answered, “It’s a kneaded eraser. Makes it easier to fix mistakes.”

He emphasized ‘mistakes’ and Keigo knew it was a jab at him. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Oh. Right. Uh..” He remembered the pencils. “Check it out! I got you backup ones even.”

Keigo presented the pencils to Touya like they were the greatest gift in the world. Touya took the packet from his hand, inspecting it before handing it back with a tsk of his tongue. Keigo’s excitement vanished and he gave Touya a confused look.

“Those are a shitty brand,” Touya said dismissively.

Keigo put his hands in the air. “A shitty- what? How am I supposed to know who makes good pencils?”

Touya shrugged, and put a hand in one of the deep pockets of his jeans. He fished out his phone, ignoring Keigo as he pulled the bulky headphones round his neck over his head. Keigo stared at him dumbfounded for a moment as Touya started to walk away. Touya made it halfway to the door before Keigo was in front of him again, his arms out as though he were somehow capable of blocking his path.

Touya didn’t take his headphones off as he asked, “Did you need something else? I got another class to get to.”

Keigo bristled with indignation. “What the hell dude? You’re just gonna blow me off like that?”

“Yeah. Bye.”

Touya pushed past him, leaving Keigo gaping like a fish. He’d never been so annoyed and intrigued at the same time. Touya was an enigma and Keigo desperately wanted to know more about it. But it would have to wait till after practice, and maybe some research on what the best brands of pencils were.

.

Keigo’s next encounter with Touya was much sooner than he expected. It was only a half hour later, on the rugby field where he noticed none other than Touya sitting in the bleachers. He was sprawled out, one leg resting on the bench in front of him while his arms draped over the one behind him. Despite it being hot as hell, he was still in that blue hoodie.

Touya caught Keigo’s eye as the latter trotted onto the field for practice. He gave a wry smile followed by flipping him the bird. Keigo’s fists clenched angrily. Touya was taunting him now, clearly already aware of how to push his buttons. It was working a bit too well.

Touya’s presence on the bleachers turned out to be a huge distraction for Keigo. What made things worse was that Touya was now ignoring him. He was scrolling his phone, paying zero attention to the practice or to Keigo who kept glancing over to him.

Keigo missed a couple passes, then a few goals, and finally the massive senior in his peripheral. The guy slammed into him like a brick wall, knocking him face first into the turf as the ball rolled from his arms into the hands of the other team.

As he painfully propped himself up, spitting dirt from his mouth, he noticed Touya had finally looked his way. Just in time to see him eat shit and cause his team to lose the practice. Keigo’s cheeks were red from more than just skidding against the pitch as he limped off field.

He wasn’t seriously injured, aside from his pride. His teammates were pissed at him, rightfully so. But he didn’t want them to know the real reason for his distractedness. A hot guy wasn’t an accepted excuse for throwing a game. In the end he faked a headache, excusing himself with numerous apologies.

Keigo skipped dinner at the cafeteria. He didn’t want to have to answer why he was limping and why his face looked like someone had scrubbed it with the rough side of a sponge. His cheeks were ruddy and stung a bit from the astroturf, so he decided to swing by the campus nurse to get some salve.

His stomach growled as he walked out of the office, prompting him to make a beeline for the campus café. It had coffee, snacks to grab, and quick meals for students who had to skip the cafeteria in favor of studying. Keigo rarely went to the café, preferring to visit with his entourage of buddies in the cafeteria at mealtimes.

He tucked his hands into his varsity jacket as he sauntered into the café. There was one other student aside from the barista behind the counter next to the coffee machine. Keigo gave a nod to the student waiting for food as he made his way to the register.

He leaned an arm on the counter, turning on his charm as he asked, “So what’s good here, huh?”

The smile faded from his face as the student turned around. It was Touya, who gave Keigo a small smirk.

“Oh look who it is.” Touya’s tone was mocking as he crossed his arms and leaned on the counter with a hip, “That was some fall, champ.”

He popped the ‘p’ and gave Keigo a shit eating grin. Keigo’s face went redder. He tried to keep his cool, crossing his arms and tilting his chin up aloofly.’

“And who’s fault was that?” he chided.

Touya let out a chuckle. “I take full credit. It was spectacular, and red’s a good color on you.”

Touya gave him a wink as Keigo flushed all the way down to his neck. Of course Touya was also a barista. As if he wasn’t hot enough already. Keigo was losing a game he didn’t know he was playing. Touya had the upper hand and seemed to be a step ahead. It wouldn’t surprise Keigo if he had swapped places with the actual barista just to mess with Keigo further.

Touya leaned forward, his long fingers tapping on the countertop, black painted nails clicking.

“I would say I feel bad, but I don’t. What do they say? An eye for an eye? Guess we can say a pencil for a wipeout, hmm? Lucky you didn’t break your face though. That would have been a real shame.”

Keigo rolled his eyes. “Great. Now we’re even.”

“Not quite,” Touya quipped.

“Ugh. Don’t tell me I have to buy you more pencils.”

Touya waved his hand. “Nah. Just buy me dinner instead.”

“Dinner?”

“Wow you really don’t have anything going on in that pretty head of yours, do you?”

Keigo stood there stupidly until Touya sighed heavily. “I’m asking you out, birdbrain.”

Keigo’s eyes went wide. “Huh?? Really? Wait I thought you didn’t like me?”

“I don’t. But that doesn’t mean you can’t try to change my mind.”

He grinned and Keigo felt a flutter in his stomach. He quickly put his golden boy façade back on, leaning on the counter.

“Joke’s on you. Everyone likes me, eventually?” He gave Touya a smile and put a hand out for him to shake. “Keigo.”

The pads of Touya’s fingers were rough as they brushed against the back of Keigo’s hand. His grip was firm.

“Touya.”

They shook hands like they were making some sort of business transaction. Touya’s pointer finger brushed against the inside of Keigo’s wrist as he let go. Whether intentional or not, it made Keigo’s heart beat faster. He was going to win over Touya one way or another. Even if it meant he had to eat shit on the pitch again.

.

Wooing Touya was much more difficult than Keigo anticipated. The other student was hard to read and rarely laughed at Keigo’s quick witted jokes. He’d just raise an eyebrow or let out a dismissive snort which Keigo took as a laugh.

As far as conversation went, Touya never started any. They’d sat in silence for a good half hour the first time they went on a “date.” It was a little coffee shop down the street from the campus. Keigo insisted on paying for the drinks, practically preening as he brought Touya’s coffee over.

When Keigo had finally broken the awkward silence they fell into a conversation with no real direction. Keigo asked the typical questions to which Touya would give one worded replies.

Siblings? Three. Favorite food? Hot soba. Favorite drink? Black coffee. Alcohol preference? Whiskey. Favorite season? None. Favorite sex position? Next.

Keigo was a little disappointed Touya hadn’t answered his last question. But he rambled off his own answers for the questions. No siblings. Fried chicken. Condensed coffee. Beer. Spring. And reverse cowgirl.

Touya had rolled his eyes, but then surprised Keigo with the question, “So bottom then?”

Keigo had choked on his iced coffee a bit, coughing before finally saying, “Uh. Yeah. Usually.”

Touya had nodded and then leaned forward with a vulpine grin to say, “Sounds like we’re a good match. Oh, and it’s doggy style.”

Keigo had spent the rest of the outing trying to fend off seriously dirty thoughts. A good match? Doggy style? Touya just kept getting sexier, and Keigo kept getting klutzier. In his defense, Touya was very distracting. He had a couple habits Keigo had noticed during their dates that always caught Keigo’s attention.

Touya never sat fully still. He was always tapping his foot or fingers, seemingly restless all the time. Even standing he would shift his wight back and forth from one foot to the other. It was endearing for some reason. Touya’s habit of running his tongue along his bottom lip however, was not at all endearing.

Keigo would have to stop himself from staring when the tip of Touya’s tongue would start to poke out of his mouth. It happened when he was deeply focused on something, like his art. He’d let Keigo chill with him a few times while he completed assignments in the top floor of the art building. When Touya got really into a piece, his tongue would occasionally poke out the corner of his mouth, swiping along his lip as he’d walk back to get a better view of things. It seemed like it was subconscious, but it drove Keigo crazy.

Though Touya in general drove Keigo crazy. He found himself wanting to spend more and more time with Touya, even ditching practice a few times to go sit in the quiet art room and watch him work. There was something extremely calming about how Touya sketched. He was very detail oriented and used a ridiculous amount of different pencils to create pieces that Keigo could stare at for hours.

While Touya’s drawings were already beautiful to Keigo, Touya would always tell him these were just practice. Keigo didn’t understand what he meant and kept asking Touya what the finished product could possibly be since he felt the sketches were too good to be merely practice. Touya always told him he’d show him at some point, but Keigo got the feeling he wasn’t quite at that point in their friendship, relationship?

They’d been on established dates and were gradually spending more and more time together but had yet to define what they were. There was definitely flirting, especially on Keigo’s end. Touya would respond though, usually with an eye roll and a bump of his shoulder agains’t Keigo’s or by pulling Keigo’s baseball cap down over his eyes playfully. It was a nice dynamic and part of Keigo was nervous to try and make it something more.

He finally decided to shoot his shot one evening while they hung out in the art building after dinner, almost a usual routine at this point for Tuesday nights. Touya was working on a mid semester assignment that was a big portion of his grade, so Keigo had taken on the role of cheerleader and sustenance runner. It was coffee he was currently trying not to spill as he sprinted lightly up the stairs to the top floor.

He handed Touya his coffee as he took his usual seat near Touya’s feet as he worked. Touya was already immersed in the project as evidenced by the tip of his tongue poking out the right corner of his mouth. Keigo glanced up at the canvas, watching Touya add more charcoal to the depiction of a flame which covered the canvas.

It was a study in values, meaning the light and dark of the piece was the focus from what Keigo had gathered. There were no lines anywhere, just meticulous shading that somehow made a black and white representation of flames licking at the canvas. It was impressive and seeing the process from concept to final product was fascinating.

Touya downed his coffee in nearly one sip, holding the empty cup out for Keigo to take and toss into the trash can by the door. He gave himself a self five as the paper cup banked off the wall into the bin. He’d learned it was best if he was quiet while Touya worked. Distractions tended to throw him off and make him have to get into the right headspace all over again.

Nearly another hour passed and then finally Touya clapped his hands together, shaking off some of the charcoal on them, a telltale sign he was done. As some point Keigo had taken to leaning against Touya’s chair form his spot on the floor. It put his head level with Touya’s waist and in the perfect spot for Touya to drop his arm down and rest his hand atop Keigo’s head.

Keigo perked up at the touch. Touya had used him as an armrest a few times before, but it was the first time those long fingers were touching Keigo’s scalp. His heart nearly burst out of him as Touya’s fingers worked their way into Keigo’s messy locks. It wasn’t exactly a head massage, but it was intimate in a way Touya hadn’t touched him before.

Touya twirled a strand of Keigo’s hair between his fingers as he said, “Guess this is a good as it’s gonna get.”

Keigo tilted his head up slowly to look at the canvas, trying not to move Touya’s hand out of his hair. The piece was gorgeous. A white hot flame that looked as though it would burn if you were to touch it.

“You’re full of shit,” Keigo retorted, “This is amazing.”

Touya chuckled. His fingers slipped lower, lightly caressing the back of Keigo’s neck for a moment. It sent chills down Keigo’s spine and he decided it was now or never. He reluctantly stood up, causing Touya’s hand to leave the top of his head. Touya looked up at him, ever so slightly shorter from being perched on the chair.

“Hey, uh,” Keigo felt anxiety blooming in his chest, but he pressed on, “Now that your project’s done would you want to, uh. I mean we’ve been kinda skirting around, uh, you know, and I, uh…”

The words died in his throat as Touya laughed suddenly. It was a heavenly sound, an actual laugh that echoed through the small art studio. It was the first full laugh Keigo had ever gotten out of Touya. While he wanted to fist pump in triumph, the laugh had been at his attempt to have a romantic relationship with Touya.

His cheeks burned and he stuttered, “What’s so funny?”

Touya wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and stood up. Keigo crossed his arms moodily, waiting for an answer and purposefully not looking at Touya. Touya sighed and his fingers carded through Keigo’s hair again, coming to rest his hand at the back of Keigo’s neck. His other hand moved to cup Keigo’s face, moving it so

Touya could look at him properly.

Touya’s eyes were soft as he said, “You really are a birdbrain, Kei.”

Keigo’s stomach clenched. Touya had called him a nickname. He could feel his cheeks getting hot but then Touya’s lips were against his and it felt like time was standing still.

Touya’s lips were soft and warm. Keigo wanted to melt into the floor as Touya swiped his thumb over his cheek as he kissed him. There were little fireworks going off in Keigo’s mind, making it hard for him to reciprocate. Touya separated their lips for a moment and Keigo quickly grabbed Touya’s hoodie, yanking him back into a near bruising kiss.

They were both breathing a little harder when they finally separated. Keigo’s hair was messier than usual and there was the hint of a blush on Touya’s cheeks. Keigo felt drunk, floating on a cloud as he stayed pressed against Touya.

When they parted a bit another small laugh came from Touya. “Shit. I got charcoal on your face.”

“Huh?”

Keigo reached up to his cheek, pulling his fingers back to see gray smeared over them. He snorted, but didn’t make a move to wipe the smudge away.

“Maybe I should be your next art project…” he teased, smiling with his tongue between his teeth.

Touya smirked and tucked a strand of hair behind Keigo’s ear and Keigo continued, “You’re gonna draw me like one of your French girls, right?”

Touya laughed again, a sound that was quickly becoming Keigo’s favorite.

“Maybe,” Touya mused before picking up a charcoal pencil that was almost a nub, “But first you gotta buy me a new pencil.”

#dabihawks #dabi #hawks #dabihawksweek22 #dabihawksweek #dabi x hawks #touya x keigo #college au

[this-should-do]

Firstly, here is a link to the song so y’all can listen to it because it is so good: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QWIjavxGNcc

Also tagging you @peepaw-william-says because you so kindly expressed interest in me writing this analysis essay yesterday :]

and fair warning everyone, its another long one, that once again is mostly uneditted aside from spelling and grammar lol and a few additions and removals :3 but this aint a school essay so i think im okay

Before I analyze the lyrics of Breathe, Desperately by From Indian Lakes, I want to quickly address how it creates tone through pacing and its instrumentals and how this applies itself to my interpretation in regards to Gordon, Barney, and their relationship during Half Life 2.

The song uses reverb heavily in this song, you can hear it far more easily on what I think might be the guitar, bass guitar, and the likely synthetic vocalizations. This reverb in music for me tends to lend itself to more nostalgic and dreamy tone which on a bass level is two tones that play a role in how I conceptualize Barney and Gordons relationships. Nostalgia is the far more important of the two concepts given the very obvious elephant in the room that is the 20-year time gap between 1 and 2. Nostalgia on Barney’s end plays two roles; first in between the the 1st and 2nd games and second during Half Life 2. Nostalgia for Gordon is simpler with only one main role.

In between the two games, as I’ve discussed in previous posts, barney develops a heavily modified view of Gordon based on the best memories he has of Gordon and the negative ones are warped into positive ones and therefore softened. So, Gordon ends up being one of his main feel-good thoughts he goes to for peace during the occupation, something he’s nostalgic for. Then during the second game once Gordon comes back, barney is forced to reconcile the heavily nostalgic and rosy memory of Gordon with the real Gordon, who outwardly, for the most part, has come to embody the worst of his attributes combined with an entirely new attitude borne of all the trauma he’s endured. This is a painful wakeup call for barney because for him, he has this figure representing most of what he misses about pre-combine earth come to life and its nothing like what he remembers for obvious reasons. So now he cant really look to this memory he has of Gordon because the real thing is in front of him and it feels wrong to fantasize over a fictional (not that he really realized it) version of his best friend now that he’s alive again, so not only is his main coping memory metaphorically taken away, he’s having to deal with the highly traumatized real life counterpart, which brings its own bag of sorrows.

For Gordon, nostalgia for a time before isn’t something he allows himself to think about often or really has the chance to, its more of a moment of weakness when everything has come crashing down around him and there’s nothing else to occupy himself with. But when he’s forced to unpack everything around the time gap, he too is faced with his memory of barney (and everyone else he knew) vs how they are now. Gordon’s memory of barney is far more accurate than barney’s memory of Gordon, but the real-life barney differs about as much as Gordon does to barney’s memory. Barney has outward changed far more than Gordon has, he’s lived 20 more years than Gordon has all while under constantly traumatic circumstances. He inwardly has 20 years of experience as well as 20 years of trauma. So even if he outwardly can almost act the same as he did before the Resonance Cascade, there’s still something always off about his actions that set off a bell in Gordon’s head, making Gordon’s nostalgia vs reality more subtle than barney’s but harder to root out because of it.

The dreaminess of the song also plays a role. Its far more general but, overall, it feels like it can represent both the fading of memories due to the passage of time, the haziness of memories due to trauma, and the haziness of the present moment during traumatic events.

Now to address the lyrics of the song, Ill be breaking down the song into parts, with a section about the lyrics that represent barney, the lyrics that represent Gordon, the lyrics that represent both of them, and the lyrics that represent their relationship.

Barney embodies the first two verses of the song:

I was once a quiet boy

Cleaning out my wounds but I

Never could keep my mouth shut

When I needed to

I could try to pry it loose

But the stone won’t move

And I wanna try to rip it out

But I’ve grown to love this thing too much

These lyrics tell us a little about barney’s learned inability to express his genuine thoughts and feelings unless under extreme duress. This is a characterization of him that I developed as an in-universe way to explain his overly casual and humorous persona in such a dystopian world (according to the developer commentary in episode 1, barney is written this way as a call back to the dark humor of the first game and isn’t given much more character other than that). I feel that this issue for him developed by early middle school at the latest from bullying by other boys and his brothers for being soft and expressing his thoughts and emotions (an idea that developed later than other parts of my characterization of him because of my class about American Masculinity im taking this semester).

This is a concept reinforced by the first verse, where it is the speaker reflecting on their younger self being quiet (an adjective normally associated with boys when they are more gentle and easy going compared to other more “masculine” boys) and having to clean their wounds (in this interpretation, earned from being bullied) and never being able to shut up when they needed to (interpreted here as him being earnest in his thoughts and feelings, a typically “un-masculine” thing to do). The phrasing of the verse also implies that this inability to “keep his mouth shut” is something he only experienced in the past, furthering the narrative I am proposing.

Now in the present during the second verse, the speaker discusses wanting to try to be able to talk about how they feel and what they think but they cant. They’ve stopped up that well very effectively to the point that they can no longer open it again. And even though they want to open it again they are also in conflict with themselves because they grown so attached to the rock that they’ve used to stop their emotions well. For Barney the rock is his casual humorous persona, which he uses to shield and obscure any form of vulnerability by the time he’s finished with middle school. And obscuring his emotions and thoughts is an incredibly useful tool in is repertoire during the combine’s occupation, especially when he’s working as a spy in the CP. So even though this coping mechanism obviously damages his ability to make and maintain close relationships with other people, it’s something he’s grown fond of because it firstly protects him from harm from the average relationship but its also a tool of survival under the combine. But it gets even more complicated when Gordon’s back, one of the only people he’s ever felt truly close to come back and now that he’s lost the true closeness over the past 20 years he finds himself unable to even begin to breach the gap between them due both to his own hardened emotional shield and Gordon’s own guarded emotions.

Gordon embodies the third verse:

Have I become the man I hated once

Or have my thoughts become clouded

By things I used to fear the most?

And is my heart full of the ashes I heard about?

Have I become the missing person

I’ve been trying to get you all to forget?

The first line in the speaker self-reflecting about how they’ve changed, and realizing they might’ve changed for the worse, into something that they hated once upon a time, and don’t seem to now but might still. And the second and third lines are them wondering if they’ve not changed but the world around them (particularly those that are frightening). This corresponds to how I view Gordon; I feel that before the Resonance Cascade, he was really rather non-violent, he didn’t enjoy violence (outside of fiction anyways). But after, violence has become his go to solution for most things, and his preferred solution because it’s simple and tends not to leave loose ends. It’s how he’s survived so long. But I feel like he also hates that it’s what he’s become, a creature of violence and little else. But the second and third lines are almost more meta than anything else, discussing whether or not Gordon as a person has truly changed in face of everything or if he’s only acting in self-defense.

The fourth line is about Gordon and his ability to feel and love others again. With the heart obviously representing said ability to love and the ashes being the fallout and trauma of everything he’s been through making it difficult to feel safe enough to trust anyone around him. This line is particularly strong for me because it immediately brought to mind gman telling Gordon to “wake up and smell the ashes.”

The final two lines are probably the furthest from literal and hardest to parse because the implications of the speaker being the one to try to get people to forget them, which doesn’t match up with how Gordon is able to act once he comes back in Half life 2. But if interpret them as internal thoughts on Gordon’s part as opposed to how he acts outwardly, it makes more sense. So, obviously Gordon being a missing person lines up incredibly well given his disappearance in between half-life 1 and 2 and the mythos that ends up building around him turning into the missing person as opposed to Gordon himself. And this “missing person” applies to both the general public and barney, as both end up turning Gordon into an icon in their own ways with the rebels viewing him as this messiah and barney viewing him as a perfect person, and both of these expectations weigh heavily on Gordon when he starts picking up on them and he desperately wishes they would stop treating him like he is more than he really is.

Barney and Gordon’s relationship, or at least how they are able to interact given the many, many circumstances, during Half-life 2 is represented by the chorus (this is ignoring the lead up which is grouped with the fourth verse):

We breathe so desperately

As if it’s the only thing we need

And we don’t care if it’s not

Breathing honestly

We’re burning out lungs with it

And we don’t care

We don’t care at all

The chorus is the speaker speaking of his relationship with another person where breathing is a metaphor for speaking. They (the speaker and unnamed other person) interact with each other on a surface level and not being able to get closer on a deeper level but both act as if it’s all they don’t need that deeper connection. The speaker also acknowledges in the 3rd and 4th lines that neither they nor the other person that (at the very least) they both don’t care if anything they breathe is a false pretense or lie even if it hurts to know that evidenced by the 5th line. The 6th and 7th line both reiterate that neither party cares.

In the context of barney and Gordon, this chorus tells us that during half life 2, they both are never able to feel the deep connection that they had before everything happened no matter how hard either of them wish they did. The only way they are able to interact is almost exclusively in situations that ensure that they never get the time to connect and break down the heavy mental and emotional guards they both have. But they both hold onto those surface level) interactions (often under duress as the only level of connection they’ll ever have so they are desperate for it but neither can say they want more so they act as if its all they need. Neither acts like they care that everything they say is a front and never what they really want to say. They both act like the loss of closeness doesn’t hurt and that feeling like strangers again doesn’t hurt them, even though its almost on purpose that they don’t try to get closer. So therefore, the last two lines end up feeling like for barney and Gordon, they’re not the truth but instead affirmations to try to convince themselves that that’s what they really feel. It makes almost the whole chorus a lie, saying that they don’t care about each other, just another lie to burn their lungs with. But they do care incredibly much, but at the same time, they don’t care. They don’t care that they can’t get closer because they don’t have the time to care, they don’t have time to think about how much they miss each other, there’s a war going on. They don’t care that not having the time to reconnect hurts because they cant. They care but at the same time they cant afford to care, so they don’t care.

The chorus lead up and fourth verse are lyrics that apply to both Gordon and barney as individuals:

Chorus lead up (note, this is an approximation as there are different people saying different things about what the actual lyrics are):

Buried alive now, buried alive now,

Buried alive now, cover your eyes now

This part of the song doesn’t give us much in terms of how it fits into the song’s narrative separate from my interpretation of how it fits barney and Gordon, so instead I will jump directly into my application to them. To put it simply, this part of the song is about how both barney and Gordon have had to bury their person hood and emotions deep down into themselves in order to protect themselves and survive.

For barney this starts as early as childhood to protect himself from bullying for being soft and goes even further as he has to act the part of the machine as a CP, where he also has to push down his individuality and humanity lest he be discovered as a mole. For Gordon its more recent during the Resonance cascade where he has to push down anything not strictly survival related in order to make it out alive, which continues on during half life 2, having to mantle this heroic persona that has developed in his 20-year absence. And the lyric “cover your eyes now” is explaining how burying their person hood and taking on these far more resilient personas is like covering their eyes in the face of danger, something that is an action of self-protection seen in childhood but ultimately if something is really a danger, it doesn’t do much to protect you, telling us that the personas that both Gordon and barney put on don’t do much in the long run to protect themselves from emotional hurt.

Fourth verse:

When you breathe the air

It tastes like medicine

And overwhelming days

Are nothing that I can’t hide

When you walk alone you think such foolish things

And so disappointed we are

With no one around to love

This verse is the speaker talking about the isolation that they and the unnamed other person feel without being able to connect to one another, the most obvious evidence of this is the last two lines, blatantly stating that they are disappointed by not being able to love someone else. Its further evidenced by the first two lines where even the air is sour and nasty. The isolation this verse exudes is made worse when looking at the 3rd and 4th lines where the speaker talks about hiding their own negative feelings, likely because they have no one to talk to about them.

In regard to Barney and Gordon during Half-life 2, the initial assessment of the meaning of this verse holds true, they both have to walk alone in their paths, isolated from others and each other, having to push past their pain to move forward. This verse is also far more depressing for barney and Gordon, I feel, as they aren’t just not able to communicate with each other, often times they literally are physically alone, especially Gordon, throughout the games. Barney, while physically surrounded by people, is still alone as he likely spends most of the time still undercover in a dangerous environment where one misstep could lead to his discovery.

The one line I neglected to address in my initial analysis of this verse is the line where the speaker mentions how when you’re alone you think foolish things. This line could mean a multitude of things, it could be about a generalized “foolish thing” or it could be directed to either the previous or following lines, either calling thinking that you can always hide your feelings foolish or that being disappointed when you have no one to love foolish. Or it could be saying both are foolish. I choose to interpret it as addressing both the previous and following lines. However, I also believe that the two lyrics the line could be addressing apply separately to Gordon and barney, with the previous line being more barney centric and the following line being more Gordon centric (however they do still apply to both, don’t get me wrong).

I think that the 3rd and 4th lines apply to barney more directly because a significant personality trait I’ve discussed for him is his consistent hiding and obscuring of his thoughts and feelings, particularly his stronger ones. And Barney for this most part recognizes that he does this (though there are times I believe that he does it unconsciously out of habit for even the simplest of things,) and he recognizes that its unhealthy, he sees how lonely it makes him, but he’s still stuck alone in his head.

With Gordon, one of his main conflicts that I write about is his inability to connect with people and then feeling lonely in the disconnect, even before the resonance cascade, though it was far less pronounced then. But after, he’s so alone all the time, fighting alone, travelling alone, with none to help him for most of his journey and he’s lonely and scared and when someone is there for even the shortest amount of time and then dies or leaves him alone again he’s disappointed, but he constantly admonishing himself over feeling the need to connect, its dangerous to get attached its foolish to want someone there because they’ll die like they have every other time, and it makes connection near impossible.

Further, the first two lines can take on a more literally meaning where instead of the air only seeming to taste bad, it likely literally tastes bad from pollution mainly because I highly doubt the combine cares much for air quality, as long as they get the resources they want from earth, this feeds into the line in the chorus about burning their lungs when they breathe, the air is literally harming them when they try to communicate to each other and its hurts even as they simply exist.

To sum up, this song is about the disconnect that barney and Gordon feel from each other and the people around them for a multitude of universal and personal reasons, and how much they both rely on the disconnect to protect themselves from harm and despise it for how much it hurts.

#ponderingradioactivedecay #i just like tinking about them #honestly analysis of music is prob my fav form of esay to write #even though i didnt get to do it muchin school and a lot of the time i didnt enjoy it #i still enjoyed getting to ake stories about music i listended to i think most of hte reason i didnt enjoy it was cuz i never got to #analyze what i wanted but thats a given with how school makes you think you hate something becuz it doesnt let you do it #in a way u want to lead it #but ye enjoy me reading into music and applying it to my blorbos #iwillspeakincessantly