#am I supposed to take a break from the thing that was supposed to comfort me? the outside world isn't any better
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A little fix it fic cause the Zaun family deserved a better ending. Also, I just realized, this is my first Arcane fanfic, so I hope y’all like it!
Not Over Yet
“Is that singing I hear?” Caitlyn’s voice pulled Vi away from the fire for a moment. Despite the teasing smile, she still tried to covertly look at the plate on the table beside her partner. The sandwich was half eaten this time. That was at least some progress.
“Oh, yeah. It’s just this..silly little song my mom used to sing to me and Jinx when we were little.” Vi laughed under her breath. It was still a little strange calling her sister that.
“Before she…you know.” Vi looked back at the fire and shrugged, and she could see Caitlyn nodding slightly. The fire was a welcome distraction, but it still put her on edge. It reminded her too much of Vander dy-…of the accident. She swore she could see all their faces in the flames if she looked hard enough. All those she lost…or maybe she was just starting to see things too. Was this how Jinx felt all those years? That weird sense of…of emptiness while never being alone? Like some ghost was always watching over her shoulder?
Well, it wasn’t like she could ask her now.
“How did the service go?” Caitlyn wrapped an arm around Vi and leaned her head on her shoulder.
“Alright.” Vi shrugged again, unable to pull her face away from the flames, “I don’t know how I didn’t break down by the time it was my turn to get up there and spew sappy shit.”
Caitlyn chuckled, a dry and bittersweet sound.
“I think little man’s taking it pretty hard. He couldn’t even look me in the eye.” Vi recalled.
Caitlyn’s brow furrowed for a moment as she took in Vi’s words, trying to think of anything that would provide some comfort, “…I think Ekko just needs a bit of time. We all grieve in different ways.”
“Oh yeah, cupcake, some people go crazy, and other people decide to play dictator and declare martial law.” Vi remarked with a playful glare. Caitlyn huffed affectionately and flicked a strand of Vi’s hair, which in turn made Vi chuckle.
But then as soon as the happiness came, it vanished. It was so hard to be happy these days, with all that had happened.
“Have, uh…have the reports come back yet?” Vi asked cautiously.
Caitlyn’s eyes softened in sadness as she leaned forward to kiss Vi’s cheek, “Still no signs of any remains in the Hexgates. Only the bomb shrapnels we were able to initially recover.”
Vi’s jaw clenched ever so slightly and her eyes hardened for a moment. Damn it all, three times and they still couldn’t find any sign of her family??? Weren’t Enforcers supposed to be good at sticking their nose in stuff like this?
“However, I was looking at the schematics of the Hexgates, and…” Caitlyn let herself trail off as she dropped a piece of paper into Vi’s lap.
Vi’s eyes narrowed as she looked it over, some of it made sense but some of it was just nonsense, “Cupcake, what the hell is this?”
“If you and I know anything about your sister, it’s that she’s always two steps ahead.” Caitlyn pointed out, “The Hexgates have plenty of air ducts that she could’ve used as an escape route and we’d be nonethewiser.”
Vi’s eyes widened as Caitlyn’s implication hung in the air. So Jinx and Vander could be…her family really could be…
“If she’s alive she’ll turn up sooner or later. But we have a lot of work to do until that happens. For Piltover and for Zaun.” Caitlyn spoke softly, a gentle determination in her voice. Vi was helpless to the smirk that appeared on one side of her mouth. There she was, there was the Cupcake she knew.
“…Are you still in this fight, Violet?” Caitlyn couldn’t help but ask. At her question, a fond huff escaped Vi. She turned to look at her partner with a smile as she interlaced their fingers together.
“I am the dirt under your nails, cupcake.” She declared, “Nothing’s gonna clean me out.”
Caitlyn’s eyes sparkled with love, and then she smirked playfully, “That’s Sheriff Cupcake you you, creampuff.”
The couple shared another laugh as their forehead gently pressed together. For a moment, the world fell away…it was just them.
“…could you teach me that song?” Caitlyn asked.
Vi blinked in surprise, and then nodded, “Yeah sure.”
Then she began to sing, “Dear friend, across the river…my hands…are cold and bare…”
~~~~
“Dear friend, across the river, I’ll take…what you can spare…”
Jinx alternated between humming and singing as she steered the airship, just staring out at the horizon before her. She wasn’t even sure how far away from Piltover they were now.
A familiar little shove pulled her attention away however.
“Heyy, do not distract the driver.” Jinx scolded, though her tone betrayed that she wasn’t actually that serious. Not that she ever was.
Janna above, Jinx was more grateful than ever for that mischievous that little smile now. If Ekko hadn’t saved Isha, then, well…
Jinx thought it best not to dwell on that. Or else Mylo might start up again and the last thing she needed was his smart mouth. Either way, she owed Ekko a solid for it. And of course, for helping her steal an airship.
Isha giggled and hugged Jinx, but still made a bit of a stink face as she saw Jinx’s hair.
“What, you don’t like my new haircut?” Jinx teased, and rolled her eyes fondly when Isha shook her head.
“Ah, you’re just mad cause you can’t play jumprope with my braids for a while.” Jinx reached out and gently pushed Isha’s helmet to cover her eyes for a moment. Isha giggled again as she pushed her helmet back up. Jinx stepped back and let Isha take the wheel.
“Sooo, what next Fishbones?” Jinx pulled her shark rocket launcher out.
“We’ll do our laundry, wash the dishes, pay some bills, and get Isha into a good school!” Fishbones ‘spoke’ sounding rather excited about such mundane activities. Isha looked excited too as she steered, while Jinx looked incredibly annoyed.
“Stupid dumb rocket launcher.” She muttered, giving Fishbones a firm smack. At the sound, a rough old growl was heard a few feet away. Neither Jinx nor Isha flinched, they were used to that sound by now.
“Hey, don’t worry, Vander.” Jinx set the rocket launched down and sat beside her adopted father, “We’ll find another way. We always do. In the meantime, Vi can relax a little playing housewife to the Hat Lady.”
Isha pulled a lever near the steering wheel of the airship and moved over to sit next to Jinx and Vander. After she was settled all snug and cozy in Vander’s fur, she signed at Jinx.
“Oh, you want me to keep singing, huh? Mmmm…well alright.” Jinx agreed.
“You still haven’t mentioned where exactly you plan on going.” Silco’s voice could be heard, his hallucination lingering in the shadows by Mylo and Claggor.
Jinx smiled and shrugged in acknowledgement. She still hadn’t quite figured that part out yet. For now, the top priorities were keeping Isha safe, and getting Vander’s mind back.
This time, Jinx chose to ignore Silco for once as she sang, “We raise…no mighty towers, our homes…are built of stone, so come…across the river, and find…the world below…”
#arcane#arcane season 2#lol#league of legends#arcane spoilers#nerd talks#fanfic#fanfiction#vi#caitlyn kiramman#jinx#isha#vander#warwick#silco
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I just want to get over this. Like why am I still so sad about that how many weeks later? But I am. And I also want to hold out hope but maybe it’s better to quit because the not knowing for sure and just being sad all the time is a lot.
Hi, @phillystrega! Thanks for your ask <3
Listen, I fully get it. Real talk here, I spent a solid week with constant anxiety after 806 - granted, it wasn't just because of 911, it was sort of the straw that broke the camel's back after a lot of shit had happened in the world and my personal life, so.
At the end of the day, 911 was supposed to be our comfort show. And I think, having something like this happen, seeing everything that has happened before, has made it so it stopped being that, and that's bound to hurt.
Your feelings are normal. It was more than a couple we liked breaking up - in context, sure, but also in what meant right after. I said it right after - it truly felt like they responded to the love we tried to send into the world with hate, and they responded to hate from that side of the fandom with love.
It wasn't entirely like that. But at the time it very much felt like that. And it's normal to still be dealing with feelings surrounding that.
Here is my advice (feel free to not take it if it's shit lol):
Focus on life in the fandom if it's fun for you. The BuckTommy fandom truly helped me process my feelings and channel them toward something more positive. Talk to people, be creative, see everyone's art and posts... it truly is healing.
Block anything that threatens your peace of mind. That being accounts, hashtags, or even keywords, so you don't find it in your dash.
Go back to your comfort shows if you have any, or try to find a new one if you feel you need to latch onto a new one. I'm here if you want suggestions. No joke, binge-watching Modern Family made me feel incredibly better.
If you have a hobby, dedicate some time to it. Or try a new one if you want. I had to embroid a tote bag for one of my best friend's birthday and honestly, it truly helped. So much so I want to do some embroidery as Christmas ornaments - we'll see how that works lmao (I sound 60 when I'm mid-twenties, dear God).
All of this will slowly take you out of this mentality, mostly because you will focus on other things. I realized I was focusing too much on how all of this was making me feel - and as much as it's healthy to face our feelings and know where they come from, we don't want to fall into a cycle, or drown in them.
After all of this, with a bit more perspective, maybe it's easier to make the decision of either continue, or move on. You can also stay in the fandom and enjoy it with no expectations, maybe check every once in a while how canon is doing. And if at some point you decide it's worth checking again, you can do it. And if you decide to fully move on, that will also be okay. Overall - protect your peace.
This was very long, but I truly hope it helped you, even if it was a little.
My inbox is always open to rant, vent, or discuss (911 or whatever you want).
Take care <3
#bucktommy#tevan#we're all in this together#yes that's a high school musical reference#but seriously: here to listen if you need it 🫶🏼#phillystrega ❣️
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So I'm rewashing Arcane season 1 before going through season 2, and I want to point out and explore some questions that don't excuse the characters actions, but might reveal their logic. I also want to explore who is to blame for everything wrong. I have seen clips and spoilers for season 2, act 1 and 2, but i am holding off on seeing act 3 spoilers until I actually watch it. It means I can't doomscroll Tumblr until after I catch up tomorrow.
I definitely won't be right, and I'm not psychologist, but i just want to explore.
Season 1
Episode 1
Starting off with the beginning, Vi and Powder see their dead parents and all the violence the enforcers inflicted. Powder comforts Vi over her distress, but outside of Vander taking them away, we don't see Powder get comfort over the same loss. Season 2 gives more information on Powders relationship with her parents, but we are not talking about that now.
Milo takes a lot of flack from the others. I assume out of the four, he is the second youngest and doesn't have as much physical strength as Vi or Clagger. He tries to be stealthy when Vi brute forces her way through a door, and it looks like Vi takes her frustrations out on him instead of directing it at Powder. He is insecure about his skills and Vander has to reassure him later. I think Vi is part of the reason he is insecure because she takes her anger out on him.
The crystals that blow up the penthouse is the only reason the group run through sewers and into the group of guys resulting in a fist fight. I do believe if they never blew up the balcony and got chased, there would not have been a reason to go through the alley. I am curious if Silco would have still found the guy and made an offer later on if there was never the altercation.
Ekko and his tip: Ekko mention Jayce buying stuff only kept for display, and i think it is implied to be magic/arcane relics. Benzo is smart, so i don't think he would sell the crystals seeing how volatile they are with just sitting in the open. It's too dangerous for both pilties and those from Zaun to have access to buy or steal. This leads me to one firm belief, everything that happens is Jayce's fault. The arcane are seen as contraband from what I can tell, and who gave it to him?
Without the crystals, the penthouse wouldn't have blown up, th kids probably wouldn't have been caught, enforcers wouldn't have gone to the lanes, Marcus probably wouldn't have met with Silco, and Silco's timeline wouldn't have changed. Who knows what this change would have done, but it definitely would have been different.
Episode 2
If Jayce had something he wasn't supposed to, even if he trusted Caitlyn, her mother is on the council and she has to have some rules she doesn't break. Why were the crystals sitting in the open and not secured away? Or even hidden? I'm in college and room checks are a thing, as a student they probably checked his studies for any restricted research.
In his memory, the arcane crystals he sees/is given looks a lot smaller than what he was holding and uses in the future. He knew the strength of something so small, why did he try studying with something bigger and riskier.
Heimendinger mentions how the arcane can't be controlled, so i am curious if it is taught at all, or if Jayce had his interest only on a past experience.
I do wonder if Marcus intentionally went too far with hunting the people. What violence was done is just instigation with the adults.
Mel is the richest person in Piltover and later we see corruption with some of the council, and i think she has corruption. She offers child's toy to a counselor and claims it is a difficult puzzle. She is a tactile thinker and as well later learn her backstory, I think she runs Piltover in what she believes is the opposite, but also better way than where she is from. Little violence is better than war, and she picks and chooses her actions and what she believes to be the right course to better Piltover. I am curious as to what she believes about Zaun before Silco's takeover later in the season.
Heimerdinger might be the only non corrupt counselor and has focus on education and helping the minds of the youth, though his focus is still on Piltover and being part of the council, his experiments and work takes a hack burner. I don't know if he is a professor or just a Dean of the school Jayce studies in, but he is out of touch with the people, and Jayce takes advantage of this later on.
Silco is charismatic and has some true facts. "There's a monster in us all." It depends on if it is fed or starved. He is good at feeding the monsters.
Mel and heimerdinger are noticeably silent about sending more enforcers to Zaun and enacting violence compared to other councelors. Kiramman wasn't even there, but I do wonder if she would have stayed silent too. Bolbok's comment was interesting as he already seen is race nearly wiped out, and there is no proof that the kids took anything dangerous. Jayce doesn't mention it which is also suspicious.
How cruel is Jayce for about to kill himself in the middle of the scholars district for all of the people to see in the morning.
Nobody really talks about it from what I have seen, but Victor is the instigator in Jayce building hextech. Yes, he saved Jayce, but look at the damage he causes later on. Was it really worth it? Stopping Jayce was enough, why did you have to risk more by breaking into get his research.
Episode 3
Did Marcus tell Silco where to go? Or was Silco following them from the shadows? Why didn't he go to the last drop first? He could have killed the kids first, then make Vander suffer.
Poor Ekko. He watched his father figure get brutally murdered, probably saw the enforcers get murdered too. Why did Vi leave him alone. She saw her parents dead body, she probably could imagine seeing them be murdered. What made her think leaving him alone with a corpse was a good idea and not taking him with her to the Last Drop. Her asking Ekko where they took Vander means she assumed he followed, and he probably did. Where was his mental state?
I think Silco still cares for Vander deep down. He probably tried to preserve the Vander he remembered for the dream they both once shared. I wonder if he is under the idea that he needs to kill what came of Vander and took his will to fight.
Mel pulls strings and get others to do what she sees as necessary and important to the benefit or the people. It's why she helps Jayce so often.
This is the second episode in which Vi doesn't comfort or recognize that Powder may be grieving. Claggwr and Milo comfort Vi, but Powder isn't really comforted, just left abandoned. The only thing she really does is promise to come back and give her something to hold onto. She comforted Ekko, then left him abandoned too. Vi is a shitty sister for what she did to both of them. Even if she is trying to protect them, leaving them alone after either watching or hearing what happened to Vander and Benzo, shame on her.
Milo's hesitation before trying to pick the link shows how Vi's words and actions did affect him. Vander has to reassure him of his abilities.
Also, this random tattooed man is so weak for someone who looks so strong. One punch is usually all it takes to knock him out. All that training and muscle just goes to waste in a single hit.
Powder had good intentions and was in a vulnerable state when abandoned. If we are going in order of explosions they show, I think if Powder had one less crystal, Clagger and Milo's might not have died. That could also just be my wishful thinking because they deserved more.
Do you think Marcus realized just how big of a mistake he made and ran as fast as he could when he saw the explosion? Did he make it in time to see Vanders death?
Vi didn't have someone to comfort her in this scene. Powder is suspected to be there, and she might believe Powder is dead, but that doesn't really matter. The 3 she knew were there are dead, and there isn't someone to comfort her. I don't think she has ever comforted someone over loss outside of the one hug she gave Ekko before disappearing. The one time Powder is seen to reach out for comfort about loss and failing when she wanted to help, Vi blames and attacks her. This lack of comfort in the way she was in the past is the reason I belive she abandons Powder even though she has no reason to believe Silco is dead.
I think it is revealed later in season 2, but it is interesting the interaction Powder has with Silco. He was going to kill her, but he voice sounds nothing to her, and I think her reaction reminded Silco of his younger self and is why he let's her live when he intended to kill her and the others from the start.
Episode 4
Heimerdingers comment on his friends whose name I don't know how to type sounds like Heimerding took notes on the teaching method and stepped back from inventing to allow students to shine. I wonder if it was another way to preserve the guys memory.
The intro with the Heimerdinger statue looks conniving and an opposite t who he truly is.
Kirmman trying to cover and the young girl fauning over Jayce is kind of funny especially when he doesn't care for either.
I wonder if there are magnets in the Firelight's shoes so they can do the fall motion without actually falling. They should have shot a barrel and threw a march instead of going down and getting killed.
I haven't said it yet, but the art style is so beautiful.
Do you think Ekko was dating or at least crushing on the pink haired Firelight, or did he see the same thing as Jinx and felt like he lost Vi all over again and risked nearly getting killed because of the renewed grief.
Jayce really didn't warn Heimerdinger what he was about to do and terrified the 300 year old man. Shame on him. Shame on him for almost killing the baby, too.
Heimerdinger is right, but unfortunately his concept of time is off co.pared to the lives of others. If he said a few years, then Jayce and Victor might have been more willing to listen, but I doubt Victor really would have waited.
Caitlyn's kind of dumb. She jumped in an area without a means of getting back up, or knowing if it was really safe.
Something else I haven't said is how banger the music is. In high school, I wanted to perform a color guard routine to a couple of songs. A shame I couldn't with a busted foot and no real creative freedom.
Silco pretending he can't do his own eye shots to prove he trusts Jinx with something sensitive is so kind and fatherly of him. Also, he didn't hesitate in the past about doing it, but i think he added shimmer to the shot and not really can't do it on his own.
Mel's control over Piltover is fascinating and is just as persuasive as Silco, only she uses it to keep some of the less honest counselors in line and protect Piltover from the war she came from.
I'm so proud of Jinx finally getting her inventions to work, but she does need to look into less destructive measures. She shot at people on her side and couldn't take out two important individuals to the Firelight's.
I've watched season 1 of arcane no lss than 5 times before season 2 released even a teaser, and for some reason, I never saw Jayce make his progress speech. Also, if your pet is afraid of an individual, I would be more concerned about what they are capable of, Heimerdinger.
Jayce, really didn't learn his lesson about leaving hextech/hexcores just laying around in the open where they could be stolen.
Caitlyn called for everyone to run and get out, but didn't even run herself. Girl, think through your actuons.actions.
Jayce is learning about the corruption of the counselor. Mel has chosen to give him more access to learning the corruption, and even joining himself. Heimerdinger knows something but held back.
Where is Jinx's hideout/workstation? It looks underground, and it it is big enough to launch explosives without worry. It's pretty cool.
Episode 5
Grayson deserved so much more. She wasn't corrupt, but had to bend the rules to keep the peace as much as possible. She could have taught Caitlyn so much. I wonder if Mel gave her more freedom to keep peace.
Was it love at first sight for Vi and Caitlyn or was it the first few minutes in the undercity that sold their unhealthy relationship? Vi, don't you know what a toxic relationship looks like? Caitlyn, you have always held some kind of position of power. Did your parents not teach you about healthy relationships?
Silco wants the nation of Zaun, but still calls himself a citizen.
Victor doesn't have time, but won't admit he needs the assistance of hextech, instead claims it is other people. The arcane calls for a sacrifice, and Victor didn't even hesitate.
Marcus gave a warning for Jayce to not rock the boat of the counselors, he doesn't seem to be worried about Silco and his dealings with topside when talking about the shipments. Just the shift in how the counselors will act.
Why was clagor made tiny, but Milo's lifesize? Jinx never had a hint of her trauma healed. Just used in Silco's favor.
How did Caitly catch up to Vi? She doesn't know the undercity.
Mel revealing the corruption and how she carefully controls it to Jayce is both smart and stupid. Jayce is dumb. He will not use that information wisely.
Jinx, what did affect crow ever do to you? Who did you think of? I don't really think it was the Firelights.
Caitlyn needs to watch what she says. This isn't her home, and very few are lenient with comments.
Mel is doing all of the heavy lifting, Jayce needs to step up. Poor Heimerdinger, I am starting to believe he doesn't know what his fellow counselors actually do.
Madam went from trying to seduce Clagger to being Vi's aunt. Vi also pimped out Caitlyn. I wonder how far Caitlyn went with the woman. And how she managed to leave after Vi abandoned her. Interestingly enough, it is the pilties who are committing unsavory acts in this scene and the one with Jayce. Those in the undercity are not shown doing anything, but Caitlyn watches what a couple are doing in the bubbles like a creep.
I don't think the people who used magic/arcane in the past were corrupt like Heimerdinger explained in earlier episodes. Based on what we see with Victor, and what seems to happen in season 2, it is the arcane that corrupts and takes over the minds of people. It absorbed and molded Victor's blood and called out to his mind.
Some scenes with Silco and Jinx are a little suspicious and gets close to the line of leave father-daughter relationship and leaning i to something more. This could just be i never had a great male role model and father who didn't want to connect with me like he did my brother, but that's what I am noticing. I know it never goes that way.
How does Sivika want to fight, but can't beat Vi, who has been locked up for years, without relying on Vi's me tal state being shocked at the news to really land a hit.
Silco does it to seem more approachable with others, but good on him for having a positive relationship with Makeup. Set good examples for the people of today and in the undercity.
Episode 6
This is clean water and near the surface, did it reach further into the undercity when Victor was young, or did it take building a filtration system for that to happen.
Heimerdinger contemplate the death of his friends, but he didn't say something I think he wanted to. That is the isolation immortality brings when everyone you care about will die long before you. Decades pass quickly for him, and so do the lives of his friends. He keeps moving forward, but he surely feels alone deep down.
Let's go with the headcannons the community has and Jayce talking about his first love Victor and his inevitable death to the physical relationship and love of Mel. Shame he said brother. I think a lot of people forgot that line. To be fair, my fiction class read my story, presumably closely, and completely missed the sentence explaining one character is 1000 years older than another.
Vi is a butch lesbian mess up and i can't believe Caitlyn let an injured person, under her watch, jump down and get more beat up. I saw someone else talk about how human and non human the characters are. I think they used uncanny valley as an analogy.
Silco, I know you needed to talk with Marcus and using his daughter makes sense. However, why bring this guy who apparently is learning to read while riding a tiny rocking horse. Silco can get away with being up there, but this guy should have been left in the kitchen away from her.
Victor is messing with plants and the arcane. I think he is the one who brought it the chance to fuck with nature, and Ekko's tree in season 2.
Caitlyn and Vi keep making statements that prove their relationship is toxic.
Heimerdinger can see that Victor is contaminated with the hexcore, but he seems to not realize what he needs to put into words for others to understand his worries. Because he is not in the know of the other councelors dealings, he has lost the support he once had, and Jayce took advantage of it.
Marcus is trying to warn Jayce still, but he needs to either come clean, or keep his mouth shut. He is about to overstep on both sides.
Jayce did Heimerdinger dirty. Jayce also put Mel in a position she was forced to agree. Because of her, it moved the others to agree.
People have done video essays on Silco and his tantrum, and i recommend to watch them. They do more than I could about his me tal state and what gies through his head.
Poor Sevika. She should have know what she was doing was stupid. Jinx is mostly holding on by a thread.
Jinx losing her mind and hearing voices was artistically beautiful
Episode 7
I love how this episode starts with a music video.
Something I have seen online is about Ekko is him missing from part of season 2, but the exact same thing happens in season 1. He is there in act 1, we don't know it at the time, so technically he is missing from act 2, and shows up again in act 3.
Ekko has a slightly different design compared to his childhood. As a kid, you could see the hair around the side of his head by the ears is dark brown or black. While the rest is white/platinum blond. I wonder if he does it, or if it like an inverted birthmark that made those spots grow black. While shaved, it seems shaved back further than the spots that had the dark hair.
How did Jayce become defacto head of the council? I thought Mel was the head. If Heimerdinger was the original head, because he had been there the longest, then Jayce shouldn't have become head. Whoever had been there loanger should have become the next leader.
Vi really didn't give a shit about what happened to Ekko. I wish we knew what really happened to Ekko after Vi ditched him. He gives a vague excuse but how long was he alone, hiding from Silco and on the run before he found the tree and made a home there. And just for my own e tertainment, what is Scar's backstory?
Jayce completely forgot Victor was from the undercity. He holds a lot of discriminative opinions about the undercity, and i don't know if they were enhanced after the theft, or if it was always there and we didn't see it until now.
Ekko is trying and good for him.
Mel is falling back on her past. She is looking for a defense, not war, but she does expect for war to be brought to Piltover.
Victor is right. They are not soldiers. Jayce forgot that when he spoke with Vi later on.
I love that Heimerdinger is sneaking across the river. I think this is the most crime he has ever done because he is not on the council anymore. Screw Jayce, I want his adventures.
I find it hard to believe people from the undercity are still not protesting on the bridge at this time.
I'm starting to believe The enforcers with Marcus are not really human.
Vi really called for Caitlyn instead of Ekko. This reinforces my belief that Vi is a shifty person. Ekko should have been her first thought. Why would Vi assume the enforcers would attack Caitlyn when Ekko is the one seen as a threat?
The callback to episode one and Jinx huming the song again.
His daughter didn't deserve this but Marcus definitely did.
Ekko is such a badass i love it. Where did the nickname Boy Savior come from. It happened during the time jump. And he lost the nickname Little Man.
There is a reference to a crow/raven behind the Little Powder memory. Did Jinx shoot the bird because reminded her of the past?
I can kind of see Vi thinking Ekko is dead and still running off to the council, but it should be implied that Jinx was killed too in the explosion. It isn't what happened, and she later knows Jinx survived, so why not assume Wkko survived too. She doesn't even go to the Firelights to let them know of the supposed death of Ekko. She literally said fuck it to everything Ekko worked for over these years.
Episode 8
The beginning scene is interesting, but also had to be traumatizing to see a girl Mel's age be decapitated.
When did Jinx steal the gem? Or did Ekko keep it with him and toss an empty container to Vi and Caitlyn? He said he would show the council, and i wouldn't blame him for still not trusting Caitlyn and being weary of Vi, but it also implies he was fully ready to kill Jinx and didn't know he would hesitate.
Jayce is weak. He shouldn't have gone to the bridge if he hasn't ever seen death in such a way. Mel should have prepared him at the least
"Sometimes death is a mercy." How many years did it take the doctor to understand and accept that? Good on him for saving Silco from more unnecessary stress with Jinx being hurt.
Fin needs to wear his jacket right, or have something to keep it from slipping off him. I feel like it would be easier to steal it from him like this. How many times has he lost it and just pretends it didn't happen?
Ambessa is hot. I will say that.
Poor Heimerdinger. He can't help the adults, he know that parents are untrusting, so he can't help the children. I can't wait until season 2 because i know they have better interactions. Ekko knows him, and I bet as a kid, he looked up to him for potential in his engineering.
Ambassador really stood up without Jayce giving consent to seeing her nudes. The creators didn't show him blushing, just looking away. He knows that is Mel's mother, and he slept with Mel.
Vi is going by undercity laws and customs, but she is with piltover council. He puked at death, then wanted more bloodshed which he can't even stand to see.
Why doesn't the council want to let the undercity become it's own nation? What is the benefit of people who you don't care about being called your people. I would argue civil war is worse than war against 2 different nations/cities.
Victorost the plot with the hexcore and should have talked more with Jayce about what he was doing. He doesn't want to create weapons, but he is turning his body into what could be used as a weapon. His actions killed Sky. Then the hexcre had the audacity to burp after its meal.
This is not my orignial idea, but some of it is my original words.
Canon Butch Lesbian Vi and headcanon bi disaster Jayce. Alone, they are fuck ups. But with their powers combines, and the help of hextech weapons, they are still 2 fuckups who can't do shit right.
The people in the suits, are they children too? And is it their job every shift to sit in them in case of an attack, or are they in the equivalent of a cryo pod until the putton is pushed and they are awoken and flooded with shimmer for the fight.
I think Kayce had 2 head on shots, and one of them was a kid. They didn't even die from it. It just numb them so they fell. The fall is what killed them.
What was the choice in deciding only women would be seen naked in showers?continuing with the show, specifically Caitlyn. She turned one handle which implies she had the water set to scalding and didn't react to it. She should be red with blisters trying to form from that. It implies their water temperatures are weak
Episode 9
Jayce really panicking about one direct kill and refusing to listen to Vi when she tells him the truth. That kid did know what he signed up for. His mother is pretty shifty for having him work down there and knowing the dangers.
How did Jinx find Caitlyn's home? They do not explore or inform us about this. Jinx was recovering when Vi went there and Marcus probably wasn't giving away information on where council members live.
The core killed Sky, and Victor can't bring himself to destroy it. It has control on him and he refuses to accept that.
Mel found out her mom stood up from the bath in front of Jayce and got pissed. On a more serious note, her brother doesn't get a name and Mel was disowned. Ambessa tries to be caring, but it is hard to believe that is what she means. Who are they talking about. It is easier to prepare for an attack if you know who it is.
The parallel between Jayce and Victor in their suicide attempt. However. Jayce was going to make his death everyone else's problem, and Victor was going to be kind to other and not show the city his mangled corpse. Jayce is outwardly egotistical, Victor has more internal desires and stays out of the spotlight with his actions.
Silco did believe he would die. He truly thought he lost Sevika's loyalty. But he is playing it off pretty well.
If Ekko made it to the council, I think jayce would have been more willing to arrest Silco instead of trying to get Jinx. Maybe there could have been peace in the undercity. I don't think Jayce really told them truth about giving Silco his nation of Zaun.
Ekko mentioned his life, and the other firelights, depended on it to create the home they have. I am more curious now if Ekko has always been hunted because he is a remnant of Vander's leadership. It's assumed that is why he took Vander hostage and knew the kids would come. And he was going to kill Powder. Maybe Silco realized he couldn't do the same thing with Ekko and he was a risk to losing Jinx so he was hunted down. That would explain partly why it is so secured, and it also helps prevent shimmer from being brought to the people trying to heal.
Did Vander say those words to Vi, or was that what she thought he would say. It's u fair her visions are not the same as Jinx.
Why did Vi thinking Caitlyn was under the little tray and Jinx could carry her with ease. Even with the gauntlets.
You know what is a shame? Jinx is so convinced that Powder can't exist at the same time as Powder, and that is Silco's fault. He didn't do something to help her. And insisted that Powder had to die and Vi is lying.
Even in death, Milo is beaten down. I don't blame Jinx, but still, she does it because of Vi and how she saw him treated and how she internalized all the name calling as him doing it.
Jinx's eyes are cloudy and a different color than normal. I think that is the sign she was getting too lost in her head, and outside voices just made it all worse.
Vi's refusal to believe she changed, even if she had a constant routine in prison, is frustrating. Nobody stays the same. She got the shit beaten out of her constantly and was isolated from the outside. She only beat the one innmate because she knew he was working for Silco and had beaten him before.
Ekko looks so happy talking to Heimerdinger, and he is listening thoughtfully to his ideas. That is so sweet. And the music is so sad.
How did Mel not die if she was pretty much the direct line of fire?
This is my conclusion on season 1. When I wake up and take care of business, I will sit down and watch season 2 and add my thoughts on that in a second post. While I doubt people will see this, or read the whole thing, I does feel nice to share with people who might care too.
I still believe this is all Jayce's fault. My reasonings will be more in the season 2 post than this one, but i need sleep
#arcane#arcane season one#heimerdinger#jayce talis#vi#powder#vander#Silco#caitlyn kiramman#mel madarda#ekko arcane#jinx#sevika#victor arcane#ambessa medarda#league of legends#hextech#hexcore#arcane zaun#arcane piltover#thoughts on a series I fell in love with years ago
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@wingsdreamt
It's a little like he just can't get past how very mundane the whole thing is. How-- No, "normal" is not and never has been the word, but familiar in a way that's almost nostalgic. While also being utterly and completely out of left field, and even knowing what he does, being what he is and was, knowing it's all... real...
He's glad to be distracted from thoughts spinning wildly around each other. Not spiraling downward, at least. If anything, it's... very much an upward trajectory. He i snot in any way willing to share this idea. "Repeating 'vacation' is in itself an answer." He doesn't fully argue; in part he talks just to keep the conversation going. "One of those words I am technically aware of, comprehend the definition for, and might even manage to recall recommended destinations in regards to, but I am not personally familiar." An answer. A terrible one, but Sephiroth is aware of that much. The one time he had leaned heavily toward finally taking personal time was--
Best left alone. They both have some knowledge of it, anyway. It's the barest moment before the danger of some devastating drop in mood can take place when he notices what Zack is about to do, with his teeth no less, when everything spins again. Shifts to a different direction, a different perspective. It's truly a thing he's only ever known Zack Fair capable of doing, and it's never been completely clear if he's even aware of it.
He's not going to ask. It's enough that he can't fully stop his lips from twitching upward, as if they feel the need to return the grin. Sephiroth huffs a short, indulgent sigh instead, teeth ultimately being used regardless. Not that there's a complaint to be made, really, leaning back on outstretched arms as he watches the other man work. It's not until Zack actually starts moving and figuring out the details that he fully realizes...
Ah. Does he mind the close quarters? He prefers not to think about it. At all. It seems like a shared realization, if Zack's face is anything to go by, which makes it--
Funny? It probably isn't, shouldn't be, but the little escaped half-laugh is impossible to hold back entirely. He can feel the heat on his own cheeks, knows it has to be unmissable since his skin tone remains light, but it is amusing. Helps him not to do the math in his head, how long it's been since he's even had close contact with another person. Sleeping next to someone is a different kind of-- Intimacy?
No, that will not be confronted or addressed. "I don't mind." Does he? Did he answer too soon, too easily? Does it matter? Does thinking about it matter? To hell with this entire thought process.
"If you don't kick. Or, I suppose... flap." He's aware that he's never been one to break tension or discomfort, and definitely not with humor, but at least he hopes it's diversion enough for both of them. Moving in as if they have a strategy to begin with, it's going to be awkward enough finding a comfortable position. Hopefully just not thinking about it will take him far enough, as general exhaustion should handle the rest.
The gray storm clouds gathering over the bluffs outside Midgar’s limits feels so fresh in his memory. Years ago. He was, unequivocally, absolutely, definitely dead up until recently. For all intents and purposes, he shouldn’t be here. Zack’s gaze briefly follows the movement of Sephiroth’s hand. Up, then back down again.
If their positions were reversed, he’d have been just as twitchy. Zack returns his attention to the matter of sleeping arrangements should Sephiroth feel the need to save face. Granted, having the opportunity to save face and feeling safe from future incidents worthy of embarrassment while in the presence of Zack Fair are not mutually exclusive.
“Repeating the word ‘vacation’ is not a real answer,” Zack politely reminds his companion as he feels about the joining panels of the sleeping bag and pulls them apart to search for the right seam.
He mentioned cutting, but he lacks actual cutting tools. Attempting to brute force separation and failing would be plain embarrassing, especially if he royally messed up by missing the grain and tearing the fabric at a horrible angle. Not only would they be out of a sleeping bag, but there’d be fluffy stuffing floating around everywhere. More tinder for the campfire, perhaps, though he already had a plan in mind as far as ensuring they were nice and toasty.
The sleeping bag is about halfway up to his mouth when Sephiroth gestures vaguely at his wings, and Zack’s entire face lights up.
“That is such a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?”
The stupid grin might suggest he did certainly think about it and that he was more titillated than anything that Sephiroth was the one to actually bring it up first.
“Alright, let’s try this,” Zack says, his voice distorted as he clenches his incisors over a thread and snaps it with a sharp yank. The fabric splits away without exposing any stuffing. Success! Teasing the sleeping bag apart doesn’t take long after that, and soon enough they have enough surface area on the ground for both of them to sleep on with a bit of mako residue to spare.
“Hmm…” Zack sizes himself up, then Sephiroth, then his own wingspan. Dropping onto his stomach on one side of the spread, Zack lifts the wing opposite and tries to envision Sephiroth fitting beneath it. “Like this, maybe? Orrr…maybe on my side? I think my wing still reaches…”
More thinking, more picturing, a bit of rolling around, and Zack comes to a sudden realization. Oh, okay. They’re going to have to be real close for this to work. Maybe he hadn’t thought this through as much as he initially believed. With a little extra color on his cheeks, Zack clears his throat.
“I mean, only if you want to.”
The weight of an unappended ‘sir’ lingers in the silence after his last word. Perhaps it’s obvious, the way his mouth hangs open a second longer than necessary. Funny, how old habits have a life of their own.
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I need to stop engaging in things that make me compare the attention I get with others. unfortunately if I want to exist on the internet at all I have basically no choice. sorry about that 😔😔
#Vents 🌧️#I think I may die (exaggeration. probably)#just. bad bad bad all around#unfortunately jealousy is rooted deeply into my heart. I love everyone so so much and I wish I got that love back#I feel like it's filling up my chest. its surrounding my lungs and tightening my body#I can't fucking do this anymore. I can't do this#every time I finally think I have enough of anything it's never enough because everyone around me gets more#it hurts. I can't fucking do this. but I don't know where else to turn to#am I supposed to take a break from the thing that was supposed to comfort me? the outside world isn't any better#perhaps I'm condemned to a life where I can do nothing but simply get over myself..#sorry. I didn't mean to. say all of this#I'll probably delete this later but I need this out of me now
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~ ~ ~
#I hate who I am when I start missing human contact and feeling lonely#I start missing someone who was awful to me simply because they were reliable in talking to me every day and at least sort of my friend#I start craving the connections that you see in media even though I know those types aren’t real#it seems like everyone else has more people and better people and closer people in their lives than me#it seems like everyone has best friends and partners that are closer to them and better for them#and idk it just feels like things are missing from my life#I have a partner but I can’t always talk to them when I need to because they can’t always handle a conversation#I have a best friend but he barely ever answers my calls and things feel distant between us lately#I have other friends but they’re not the kinds that I feel I could turn to for help when I’m lonely like this#I have my parents but neither of them are very good at comfort in these situations#and I just want to cry because I feel so completely by myself and I don’t know what to do anymore#I just want someone to talk to and who will listen to me when I need help and advice and be there for me#I’m starting to really miss the wrong people again even though I know I’m better without them in my life#but at least I could send them anything and get a response fairly soon when I needed to#at least for a while they were very close to me and i think that’s what I really miss most of all#just the closeness of another person since I don’t always feel that with other relationships these days#it’s times like these I wish I’d just killed myself at 16 so I wouldn’t have to keep dealing with this over and over forever#it’s times like these I wanna fade away#if I’m going to be alone anyway then why bother keeping others around at all? why not just break off and go be a hermit somewhere else?#but I can’t do that because I have too many responsibilities that I need to take care of#idk maybe I should just kill myself and get it over with#pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to make it this long in the first place#I mean I’m being facetious cause I’m not overly suicidal and I’m not actually going to do anything#just kinda wish I could in a weird sort of way#like missing the feeling of a blade slicing my skin since I stopped cutting a long time ago#just want more out of my relationships and from myself and from my life and idk how to get any of that#personal
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Curiosity Killed The Cat
prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.
pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
collection masterlist: Clingy Baby
word count: 5.1k+
note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.
warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.
Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.
You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.
Rooted.
But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.
You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.
This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.
You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?
Curiosity, indeed.
Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...
"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."
"And the jalapeños?"
"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."
"Cream cheese?"
"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."
Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."
"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"
"Lemme pick you up."
"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."
He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"
"Let's do a white tonight, please."
"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "
"Hang on," you pleaded.
"What's wrong?"
"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"
"We haven't been to Paris in months."
You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."
Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."
"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"
"So, is that a yes?"
"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"
"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"
"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."
"I'll bring the camera."
"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"
"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.
"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"
"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"
There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "
"It's 15," he growled.
"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."
"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "
"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."
"Don't hurt her - "
"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."
The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.
He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).
For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.
"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."
You sniffled, unable to respond.
He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"
You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."
The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."
"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."
"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."
You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.
At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.
"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.
"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"
You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.
Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.
And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.
You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.
Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.
Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.
So now... To hear this... You were devastated.
You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.
You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.
"She's different, man."
"How so?" Sam wondered.
"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "
"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.
"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."
"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.
"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."
"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."
"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"
Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"
"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."
"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."
"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.
"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."
"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."
"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"
There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.
So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."
"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"
You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.
"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.
"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"
"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."
"Peach - "
"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.
"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"
"Sure."
Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"
You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.
Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.
Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?
You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"
"Out with Nat," you eased.
He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"
"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."
His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."
"I know."
"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.
And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.
When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."
The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.
You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.
Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.
Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.
Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.
After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.
"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.
"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.
"What?"
"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"
"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."
"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"
"About...?"
"Me."
"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."
Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.
"Huh?" Nat wondered.
"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.
"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."
Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"
"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"
"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."
"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.
"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."
"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."
"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."
"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."
"They can take it."
"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"
"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.
"Bucky," she growled.
He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."
"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."
"Why lie, then?"
"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."
"No shit."
"Well, did you get into a fight?"
"No."
"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"
He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."
"You had to do something."
"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."
Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"
Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."
"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."
"I didn't mean - "
"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."
Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"
"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"
Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.
The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.
Clingy...
You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...
His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.
When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"
You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.
He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."
"I'm here."
"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.
"What's wrong?"
"You. You're what's wrong."
"What the fuck does that - "
"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."
You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.
"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "
"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."
"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."
You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "
"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."
You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."
"It's not."
"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."
He nodded, "What else can I do?"
"Nothing - "
"Peach."
You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"
"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.
"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"
"All right... Sure, okay..."
"And face masks."
He sighed, "Okay."
"And mani-pedis."
"Baby."
"You said you were making it up to me, right?"
He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."
"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."
"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."
"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."
"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."
You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.
Felt okay.
Appeared okay.
And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.
requesting rules and masterlist
Marvel masterlist
Clingy Baby collection masterlist
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel au#mob bucky barnes#mob bucky au#mob bucky x reader#mob bucky x you#mafia au#mafia bucky barnes#mafia bucky x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes hurt/comfort
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Cockwarming Simon as you two make out in his office.
From the request here
“I need it in ya, baby,” Simon gasps in between the breaks in your lips connection. “Just for a bit. Ya know ya fuckin’ want me in ya too.”
The tiny office is silent save for the deep groans and sharp breaths as Simon holds you close, you perched comfortably on his beefy thighs while he sits at his desk so that he can steal kiss after heated kiss, relishing in the feeling of your soft lips against his own. Rough hands run up the length of your back, following your spine over your shirt until they reach the back of your head where he uses them to draw your face in tighter until your mouth stings from the pressure.
Sitting in the middle of his lap you can feel his cock poking against the cheek of your ass, pulsing and throbbing as it strains against the fabric of his pants. It’s no surprise what he needs; it’s the same thing he wants every time he calls you into his office for a “meeting” during your lunch break, which is becoming more and more frequent these days.
You are a very addictive problem, one that he is constantly losing himself in and making every excuse in the book to spend as much time wrapped up in that he can. A pretty thing like you, how is he supposed to keep his hands off? If that means setting up a quick make out session to get through the day, then he’s gonna make it happen one way or another.
“Have training in a bit,” you mutter as you break from his mouth just for a split second. “Don’t want to be late.”
He’s right back on you before the last beat of your reply can hit, not wanting to be parted from you for longer than needed. It takes a minute before he tries to reason with you again. “Not gonna be late,” he reassures. “But how the hell am I supposed to stay outta ya, hmm? Not when ya feel so fuckin’ good. Just want ya to warm me for a bit and then I’ll make sure you’re outta here with plenty ‘a fuckin’ time.”
His hand rubs along one of your thighs as the other is still tangled in the strands of your hair, not wanting to give you the chance to get away from the barrage of his lips. Fuck, it’s getting harder to think straight the longer his mouth captures yours in that tangled dance that he seems to be an expert in. You lean into his embraces a bit more and Simon is sure he has you right where he wants you now.
There is not a chance in hell you are going to deny him. “You better make it up to me later,” you say breathlessly and you can feel his lips upturn into a smile against your own.
The grip on your hair tightens as he gives it a sharp tug. “Take off your fuckin’ pants.”
That gravely, heavily accented tone sends a full shiver down your spine. No one can make a demand like that sound so fucking good, especially now that he’s made you delirious off his kisses alone.
The officers building is full of people today so privacy is near non-existent and though you know this is probably a terrible idea, you can’t be stopped. Helping you off his lap Simon sets you on your feet to the side of the desk, giving you the space to do what you need to do. He watches with hungry eyes as you undo the button keeping your bottoms secure; goddamn you are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?
Adjusting himself, he sits back more in his chair. “Slower,” he demands firmly.
Instantly your movements become measured as you take your time undressing while you keep those beautiful eyes directly on him. He doesn’t break eye contact at all; instead his hand slips down over his abdomen to the crotch of his own pants where he tugs at the fabric tenting there before massaging the spot as he watches your little striptease. Those unflattering uniforms keep all those voluptuous curves hidden from his view and so any chance he gets to see you out of them is a treat indeed.
You drag the zipper down painfully slow, making sure to give him all the tantalizing he wants. As the front now hangs open, you slide your hands back to your hips where you slip your fingers into the waistband and begin to push them down until the top seam of the panties clinging around your hips are exposed.
Eyes unblinking, breathing stayed, Simon is caught in the moment, his hand pulling up the hem of his shirt just over his navel so that he can fiddle with his belt buckle until he can pry the damned thing loose. He grunts as he has to roll his hips back so that he can slip his hand between the bulk of stocky muscle on his lower abdomen and the seam of his pants to get it off. The metallic clink rings out and he quickly undoes the rest, plunging his hand inside to pull out his cock so that he can palm it and give it a proper stroke as you continue on.
Instantly you freeze as your eye catches that trail of sparse hair traveling down the line of his stomach below his belly button towards his member and your mouth begins to salivate and a hard, throbbing pulse between your thighs makes your legs feel like liquid. God, you are so down bad for your superior that it is bordering on pathetic the way that even that small patch of hair has you chomping at the bit.
Simon clears his throat as he catches your sight lingering and as you meet the glint in his eyes and the smirk on his kiss-raw lips, you refocus on the task at hand. These pants still have to go and time is of the essence. You continue on, pushing the fabric down over the curve of your ass to your thighs and then your ankles in the same slow fashion, only this time more unsteady as your heartbeat pounds. They hit the ground and those damned pants are finally off; there you stand before him in nothing but your panties.
“Off,” he hisses as his head nods down to the last article of clothing keeping you from being filled by him.
There’s heat bubbling in your cheeks now, making them flush, and though you are almost rendered dumb just from the tension alone there’s still a little fire in you yet. “What’s the magic word?” you ask with a good bit of sass.
A chuckle escapes his mouth as his hand strokes harder around his dick; he does love a bit of cocky pushback, but make no mistake that that will be remembered for later. His mouth yearns to devour your lips again and he doesn’t want to wait any more than he already has, so he lets it be…for now. Leaning forward in his seat he reaches out and his large hand wraps around your wrist to pull you back to him.
“Keep ‘em on all ya fuckin’ want sweetheart, don’t need ya to take ‘em off for what I wanna do,” he groans as he grabs onto your hips and forces you to move yourself back on top of him straddling over his lap.
Fair enough.
You can feel his warm fingers twitching with anticipation as they move in between your thighs and up against your clothed sex before his digits hook themselves into the crotch of your panties and wrench them to one side roughly. The seam digs into that soft area at your upper inner thigh as you loosely wrap your arms around his neck while a hand on your hip aligns your body at the perfect spot over top of him.
Holding the base of his cock, Simon pushes down on your hip and you don’t fight it. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl, now let’s get this in,” he praises as the tip pokes through your petals and against your entrance. A harder press on your body and his cock shoves its way inside, stretching you wide as it slips in and you whine inside your closed mouth as you struggle to take him in so quickly.
“F-fuck,” he exclaims, his body shuddering as you come all the way down until you are once again sitting on his lap only this time with all of him thrust deep inside you. “Isn’t this better? Goddammit, this is where ya fuckin’ belong princess.”
His forehead comes to rest on your own, staggered breath being siphoned between the pair of your lips before he leans up into you and crushes your mouths back together in sloppy kisses that leave you with a yearning that situates itself deep in your core. Your mouth is like candy, sweet and addictive, and each brush of your lips against his own only makes him vibrate with a need for more. Long fingers find their way back to tangle in your hair to grip it hard as he smashes his face in until your features are molded together.
Those soft, supple lips are his to ruin and he will, by fuck he will. With each fiery embrace he lays his claim upon your mouth as if he wishes to bind your faces together so he never has to do without their euphoria. Without warning his strong, thick tongue parts your lips with ease and plunges fully inside your mouth to dance and twist with your own, filling the orifice to capacity as he shoves it down the back of your throat.
You can barely intake air with your mouth full of his tongue, but it doesn’t matter. Suffocation feels like a dream when you are stuffed so overwhelmingly from above and below. Your pussy holds him tight, tight enough that the throbbing from the blood rushing to engorge his cock feels like he’s being stroked without any movement. Each throb has a visceral reaction and you can feel the wetness gathering by the second with every beat.
The dizzying intensity of his kisses and the pulsating of his cock are too much and leave you clenching your thighs, squeezing him in the process as you cannot help rocking your hips, but that is dangerous territory. Simon is already teetering close to the razor’s edge.
“Don’tcha fuckin’ move,” he says with a sharp hiss of breath, wrangling your hips down square against his pelvis with a heavy grip so that you cannot shift them at all. “We don’t have time to do this proper, just need to feel ya to get through this fuckin’ day and then I’ll do it right later.”
There is desperation on his lips something vicious and it can be felt in the way his embraces become more aggressive; through the haze fogging your brain you instinctively know he is holding on by a thread. Doing as he says, you do your best to keep yourself still to allow his cock to soak in you just as he wants.
Your arms around his neck tighten as you grip on to sanity and his hands travel back up your body to cradle your face between them. There’s nothing outside of the taste of your lips, the burn from the pressure of your mouths together, the throbbing from inside your tight pussy as it coats his cock in your nectar. It all becomes an insatiable blur as his mind numbs and he forgets everything else outside of the ecstasy of you.
The longer he’s buried in you the more your walls swell to squeeze him tighter and he does not realize what is happening. Simon forgets that he is getting too worked up, succumbing to all that pleasure that he cannot stop his body from its more primal instincts. With each passing minute the tension from the coil knotting in his abdomen is drawing closer together, threatening to snap at any second and send him coming and coming hard.
Eyes closed, mind gone, body so warm it feels like he is on fire, the feeling of your body driving him insane, it is all too much. That coil has tightened all it can and he finally becomes aware of it just as you accidentally rock your hips ever so slightly, but it is enough that there is nothing else he can do other than accept what is about to happen.
“Fuck,” he groans against your parted lips as he realizes that he has miscalculated just how much he can take. “Ugh…fuck, baby.”
It’s too late, this cannot be stopped and at the last second he reacts. With a sharp, loud grunt he picks your hips up and rocks his own back to pull out of you just as he pops off. The sticky, warm emission spurts out of him with force and up onto his exposed belly, catching the bottom half of his t-shirt in its intensity. His lips lock to yours in an effort to keep the noise from those deep, guttural whimpers down as he rolls his hips, milking every last out of the aching tip that he can as you grind against it.
A couple of minutes pass before his pace finally slows and comes to a stop with nothing left to give as that swift flow of exhaustion floods his body. Those bruised lips unlatch from your own as he falls against the back of the chair to sit limp as he works to regulate his breathing. Being so worked up is something he is still getting used to, losing himself like that is not a problem he had before you came along. But no one has ever made him feel as if he’d been struck by a live wire before: all excitement whenever you are around.
Just one of the hazards of being with such a vixen.
There is still a pulsing in you that causes your body to continue to ache, but as your wandering eyes land on the watch around Simon’s wrist you see that there are only a few minutes left before you need to be in training and you still have to make it across base. Carefully, you get up off of him and make your way to your pants, redressing fast as those brown eyes cling to your every move.
“See what ya fuckin’ do to me, sweetheart? I’m a goddamn mess for ya,” he sighs as he watches you fix your soaked panties back into place before pulling your pants back on, sad to see such a gorgeous sight be concealed once more.
“Seems like we have that in common,” you smile as you finish up and lean back into him, using his thighs as support as you give him one last, lingering kiss. You’re already gonna be late, might as well make it worth it.
Simon wants you to stay, to have you for the rest of the afternoon, but he knows that duty calls and if he doesn’t tell you to go then it’s only going to get harder to leave. “Best get outta here ‘fore I change my mind and do somethin’ stupid to get us both in fuckin’ trouble,” he says with a nod of his head. “We’ll finish this up later, I swear.”
You lean in one more time for a short peck before turning tail and quickly making your way out of the office. Simon’s gaze lingers on your form until you exit and shut the door behind you, leaving him alone to deal with the mess he’s made of himself while his raw lips are already craving yours again.
“She is a problem,” he chuckles to himself, “a very big fuckin’ problem.”
Tag list: @llelannie
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#ghost cod#ghost mw2#cod mw2#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon smut#simon#ghost simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost smut#ghost call of duty#ghost#ghost cod smut#cod ghost#cod mwf2#cod#call of duty modern warfare 2
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 22: I Won't Be Gentle
Summary: Things begin to develop in your new relationship with Simon, but luck is so rarely on your side.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 7,074
Warnings: Slight NSFW, suggestive content, kissing, dry humping, anguage, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, Ghost’s emotional constipation, angst, a wee bit of horror at the beginning, also a lot of feet in this chapter (gross), oh yeah and did I mention ANGST
A/N: Please don't hate me
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
It’s far too quiet. You can hear the air blowing through the vents, the quiet hum of the fluorescents in the hallway. You push yourself up to sit, the blankets falling around your waist. It’s still dark out, the blurry time on your clock reading just past 2 AM. You’re not quite sure why you’re awake, aside from the eerie silence that has settled over the barracks.
You push your blankets back, shivering as you leave the warm, cozy comfort of your nest. You shove your feet into your slippers to avoid the cold floor before standing, making your way slowly to your door. Something feels wrong, something feels off. You’re on guard, listening, waiting for a sign of whatever is causing such a reaction.
The click of the lock on your door might as well have been a gunshot in the silence, the sound almost echoing. Any chance of stealth is out the window, so you’ll have to be prepared to run in case something happens, in case something is waiting for you on the other side of the door. How something or someone could have gotten in without the guys noticing is beyond you, but you suppose nothing is impossible.
You crack the door open, peeking out through the gap, but you can’t see anything. No one’s moving around, no one’s waiting for you on the other side. The urge to hold your breath is strong as you step out of your room, the silence almost deafening. It’s too still, not even the sound of snores coming from the other rooms. The stillness is eerie, sending a violent shiver down your spine.
You take a cautious step towards John’s room, moving on your tiptoes to avoid making any noise. You don’t really want to wake him two hours before he normally gets up, but you can’t stand the feeling crawling beneath your skin. Even if you just slip into bed beside him, it’ll make you feel safer in this ominous atmosphere that’s settled over the barracks.
The sound of shuffling breaks the silence, making you freeze mid-step. Your breath catches in your lungs, muscles tensing as you pray it was just your imagination, or perhaps your own movements that disturbed the unearthly quiet. Time seems to still as you stand there frozen, your heart pulsing in your ears.
The sound of shuffling unmistakably echoes in the air again. You don’t care how much noise you make as you take off running to John’s door, throwing it open in hopes it wakes him immediately before whatever it is that’s creeping around the barracks finds you.
His bed is empty.
It’s made up like he’d never slept in it, the sheets tucked in pristinely, and the comforter perfectly in place. He’s not in the bathroom either, the door cracked and the light turned off. You walk backwards out of his room, wondering if you had read the time wrong after all, or maybe if he’d just not gone to bed in the first place. You opt for Kyle’s room instead, hurrying to his door before opening it.
His bed is empty too, made up just as perfectly as John’s. You’re beginning to panic, your heart thudding faster than it had been before. Your shaky hands fumble with Johnny’s door across the hall, his room empty and more organized than you’ve ever seen it. You even check Simon’s room, a place you’ve never seen, a place you’ve never been in, but it’s empty too.
Simon’s clock tells you it’s too early for them to be up, too early for them to go to their training. They wouldn’t just leave you like that, would they? Not even a word or a goodbye? You’re panicking, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you stand in the middle of the hallway. Maybe there was an emergency. Did they say anything about doing training tonight? Maybe this is training, maybe they’re testing you and what you’ll do if they ever disappear. Maybe they want to know exactly what you experienced when they left you the first time.
You turn as the shuffling sound gets louder, a quiet whimper leaving your lips as you spot the figure standing at the end of the hallway. It’s dark, the lights at the end of the hall off. They’re never off, the lights in the barracks always on no matter what time it is. Tears sting your eyes as you stare at the shadowy figure at the end of the hall. You can’t see their face, you can’t tell who it is, but something in the back of your mind whispers that it’s not one of your packmates. There’s nothing familiar, no comforting warmth at the sight of them.
Fear nearly blinds you as the figure begins moving down the hall, the lights going out one by one as he gets closer and closer. You’re hyperventilating, your brain screaming to run, but your legs are frozen. You’re alone and there’s nothing you can do. You’re alone and about to die, or worse, and no one will know. It could be days before anyone finds you. The thought of your pack returning to find your mangled body has a sob tearing from your chest, your scream dying on your lips as the darkness finally reaches you.
You jolt awake with a gasp, your heart thudding violently in your chest. You’re shivering, not just from the terror still pulsing through you from the nightmare. The blankets are still pushed down to the end of the bed, leaving you naked and unprotected from the eternally cold barracks.
There’s a heavy weight against your pelvis keeping you from shifting your position, or even sitting up. The aching in your hips and lower back is starting to register as your brain becomes more and more aware of reality. A glance downward reveals your legs are still tossed over Kyle’s shoulders, the position you’d been in before you fell asleep. Kyle is asleep too, his face squished against your pelvis as he snores quietly.
A quick glance at the clock reveals it’s just past 2 AM, your breath catching in your throat. The dream had felt so real, the sensations, the feelings. You pinch yourself, the pain in your back and hips not enough to make you believe you really are awake and not stuck in some nightmare still.
“Kyle,” You whisper quietly, trying to shift, but the hold he has around your thighs is stopping you. “Kyle.” You say a little louder, shaking him gently.
He lets out a quiet grunt as he jerks awake, lifting his head from your pelvis. He smacks his lips, releasing one of your thighs to rub at his face. You immediately free that leg from his shoulder, groaning quietly as you straighten it out. The crack of your knee is loud, Kyle blinking blearily up at you as awareness slowly returns to his brain.
“I think we fell asleep.” You say quietly, still shivering from the cold and the terror remaining from your nightmare. You’re tempted to reach out and squeeze Kyle, just to ensure he’s really real, really here with you.
“Fuck,” He breathes, untangling himself from your body, pushing himself up onto his kees as you straighten out your other leg, sighing at the relief of finally being able to move and stretch your cramped body.
He moves from between your thighs, giving you more room to move and readjust yourself into a more comfortable position. You push yourself up higher against the pillows, sighing at the ache in your lower back.
“Pussy so good it knocked me out cold.” He grins, settling himself down next to you, his hand coming to rest on your stomach. “Fuck you’re freezing.” He frowns, finally noticing the subtle shivering of your body.
He pulls the blankets up, tucking both of you in before wrapping himself around you like a koala. You turn onto your side, tucking yourself into his hold. He lets out a hiss as your feet touch his legs, his arms tightening around you. You press your cheek to his chest, listening to the quiet, steady beat of his heart. A shiver runs down your spine as the nightmare replays in your mind, feeling just as real as it did when you first woke up.
You’re not entirely sure it didn’t happen.
You know it couldn’t have. You woke up in the same position you fell asleep in, legs thrown over Kyle’s shoulders, his head between your thighs. He’d laid there, lazily lapping at your folds after making you cum three times until you both drifted off from exhaustion. It might have been embarrassing, had it not been for the time Johnny fell asleep still inside you moments after his orgasm. You had been stuck under him until he inevitably rolled away, starfishing himself as best he could across the small bed.
“Kyle?” You whisper quietly, not wanting to wake him again if he’d already fallen back to sleep.
He grunts softly, likely half asleep.
“You wouldn’t leave me without telling me, right?” You ask, not sure if you’re going to get an intelligible answer in response.
He shifts just slightly, his arms tightening around you. “Of course not.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll always tell you, love. Wouldn’t just disappear without letting you know first.”
His words end in a yawn, but they offer a sense of comfort to you. You know you might not always have much notice ahead of time. Sometimes they don’t even get a lot of time between finding out about an assignment and when they have to leave. John had warned you about that, that they might have as little as an hour between. They’ll always make sure you know, though. They won’t just disappear into thin air without so much as a goodbye.
It might be their last.
You push that thought from your mind, squeezing your eyes shut as you breathe in Kyle’s scent, praying for your mind to go blank.
It’s like being around a wild animal. You’re not quite sure what to do. You’re afraid to move too quickly, to startle him. Despite the confession, despite your intimate moment on the couch in the rec room, you still feel like you’re dancing around him a bit. You’re not sure where the boundary lies now, what’s okay and what’s going too far.
He sits closer to you now. On the days where you sit between him and Johnny at breakfast, you’ve been close enough to brush arms with him. He stares at you more now too, but less in the way one stares at an annoying fly buzzing around the room, and more in the way one stares at a painting or at the TV when they watch their favorite sports team.
He walks slower now, side by side with you, close enough his hand brushes yours every so often. The thought has crossed your mind to reach out and take it just to see what he would do, but you’re not sure you could handle the rejection if he didn’t want it. You feel very much like you’re tiptoeing around him, afraid to push too far but unsure of where the line stands.
You could just ask him, but you’re afraid he might laugh at you, that he might think you’re stupid for just not knowing. He’s so intune to you. You saw proof of that in the lingerie store, and how he always knows when you get uncomfortable in the mess. You wish you could read him like that, that you could be as intune to him as he is to you. It might be his training, his years of developing the skills to be attentive to every detail, every scent, every emotion. Or maybe that’s just him. After years of living the way he did growing up, you’d imagine he’d be good at knowing when someone is upset versus when they’re not.
He could probably read you like an open book, and yet he’s like a locked safe in an armored vehicle. You’d sooner be able to see through concrete than you would be able to figure out Simon Riley.
“You have to put your feet there?” The low timbre of his voice cuts through your thoughts and you look up at him from where you’re laying on the couch.
He’s staring at you from his seat in the chair, book in hand. You’re laying on your back on the couch, your legs propped up over the arm with your feet right next to him. You could probably reach out and touch his shoulder with your toes if you tried.
“‘S comfy.” You say, going back to your own book.
It’s quiet in the barracks, just the two of you occupying the rec room. John had taken Johnny and Kyle out to do some kind of training or something. You had only been half listening to Simon as he entered the rec room and joined you in the quiet space.
“Well, they stink.” He says, pushing them away from his arm.
“They do not stink.” You say, moving your book aside as you pull your foot towards your nose to smell it. “Liar. My feet are perfect.” You move it back over the arm of the couch, putting it closer to him than it was before.
“Eh,” He stares at your feet for a moment. “I've seen better.”
You gawk at him, looking offended. “Who's?”
He huffs out a laugh. “Johnny’s.”
You pause for a moment, thinking back to all the times you've seen his feet. “You're right. He does have beautiful feet. How does he manage it?”
“He gets pedicures every few weeks.” Simon says, staring at his book. “Usually goes when we return from assignments too.”
You gape at him. “And he's never invited me?”
“Don't think he's gone since you got here.” Simon shrugs. “Kyle was the one to put him on it. They go together sometimes.”
You continue to stare at him, mouth hanging open in shock. You wouldn't have guessed it. Kyle, it made sense for him. He takes better care of his skin and body than even you do, but Johnny too?
“He likes the massaging part. Says it makes his skin extra soft and smooth.” Simon shrugs. You can imagine Johnny trying to convince Simon to tag along, but the mental image of the giant, imposing alpha in a nail salon nearly makes you laugh.
You shake your head, picking your book back up. “I mean, it makes sense, taking care of your feet. They're a vital part of your job.”
“I think they're gross.” He admits, turning the page in his book. “Especially when they're so close to me.”
“Hey, my feet are clean.” You say, poking his arm. “I wash them every time I shower, thank you, and I change my socks every day.”
He pushes your feet away from his arm, letting out a huff. “Keep your trotters away from me.”
“I was here first.” You say, moving them back close to his arm.
“You're such a child.” He says, setting his book down.
“I am not-” The last word cuts off in a shriek as he suddenly grabs your foot, tickling the bottom of it.
You giggle and shriek, trying to pry your foot from his hand, kicking out with the other. He catches both, tickling the bottoms of your feet. Your book drops as you twist and wiggle, tears gathering in your eyes from laughing.
“Okay, okay!” You say, managing to pull away from him and sit up properly on the couch. “You win.”
You pick your book back up, curling up against the arm of the couch as you try and catch your breath. You know he's storing the fact you're ticklish away for later, and had you looked up, you would have seen the slight crinkle at the sides of his eyes indicating the smile hidden beneath his mask.
“Something’s going on with those two.”
“Yer right. It's odd.” Johnny says, leaning against the sink in the bathroom. “They're so...comfortable.”
“Not one tensed muscle or nervous glance.” Kyle says leaning against the wall.
“She's sittin’ close tae him too.” Johnny says. “I think my plan worked.”
“The panties?” Kyle's brow raises. “There's no way a pair of panties changed things this much.”
“It's not just the skids. Tha’ was the push they needed.” He smirks. “They did the rest themselves.”
“I can't believe it.” Kyle shakes his head. “What if it's just a fluke? She was there first and he chose to sit there by chance?”
Johnny shakes his head. “Simon always sits in tha’ chair.”
“What if she was too nervous to move after he sat there.” Kyle argues.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out what they’re really feeling.” Johnny says, moving towards the door.
Kyle follows him out of the bathroom and into the rec room. You don't look up as they enter, Simon barely glancing over the top of his book before going back to reading. Kyle and Johnny share a look before they join you on the couch, Johnny taking the seat next to you.
“Have a good afternoon, kitten?” He asks, stretching his arm across the back of the couch behind you.
You nod, glancing up from your book. “Yeah, just been reading.
“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, staring at you. “That all?”
“Mhm.” You hum, continuing to read. “You can turn on the TV if you want.” You say, not even giving him the chance to ask the question.
Johnny turns away from you, glancing at Kyle before grabbing the remote off the coffee table. Kyle shrugs, settling into the couch as Johnny flips through channels. You and Simon continue to read, your body curled up against the arm of the couch, closer to Simon despite Johnny’s arm still draped nearly across your shoulders.
A small smile tugs at Johnny’s lips, a pleased aura nearly radiating off of him. Normally you would be sitting as far from Simon as you could, and you would have leaned into Johnny as soon as he sat next to you. Now you’re sitting as close as you can to Simon, and staying that way. Johnny’s not even upset by you unintentionally ignoring him.
He’s just happy his plan worked.
It’s not just existing around Simon that has changed since his confession and your moment in the rec room. Training has also changed. Things feel different, stranger between the two of you. Despite the partial lowering of the barrier, it feels as if there’s a thicker one between you. Is he dancing around you as much as you are dancing around him? Are both of you fumbling to find where the new barrier lies? The thought is comforting, that he might be struggling with this as much as you are.
He avoids touching you as much as possible during training, only adjusting your stance when necessary. You haven’t done much on the floor either, instead his focus is on working on your kicks and punches again.
He’s as stone-faced as usual, the tenseness back in his body as you throw punches at the bag. Your knuckles hurt and you’re quickly getting tired between the lack of sleep due to your nightly activities with the other members of your pack, your nightmares, and also the thousands of thoughts causing turmoil in your mind. You just want to know where you stand, you just want to know where that boundary lies. You just want him to talk to you.
You’re tempted to throw a punch at him just to get him to do something.
You take a step back from the bag, taking a breath. You want to confront him, ask him every burning question in your mind in a place where it is less likely someone will walk in and see you or overhear. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand this, how much longer you can do this dance before you lose it. You need to know, you need to place that boundary somewhere so you can stop worrying.
“You’re in your head again.” Simon says, snapping you out of your thoughts. “That’s going to get you hurt someday.”
“Well maybe I wouldn’t have to be in my head so much if you’d just talk to me.” You snap, starting to get frustrated.
He shifts on his feet, his shoulders tensing just slightly. Your words and obvious frustration striking something within him.
“I just...I need to know what we are...where we stand,” You continue. “I need to know what we’re doing, what’s okay. I feel like I’m just tiptoeing and dancing around you and I can’t stand it.”
He shifts on his feet again, staring at you blankly. You need him to say something, anything. It’s not often he’s been quiet, speechless when you’ve confronted him. You know you’ve put him in a place like you did in the rec room, cornered him in a vulnerable position. You also know that’s where he’s most uncomfortable.
“I...I don’t know.” He says, obviously scrambling for words, for something to answer you with.
“Well, it would be nice if you figured it out, because you’re stressing me out here.” You sigh exasperatedly. “I just...don’t want to make you uncomfortable or do something that’s going to ruin things.”
“I don’t think you could do that.” He says, shifting on his feet again.
You blink at him in surprise, not expecting that to be his answer. “I-I don’t-”
All thought of moving or defending yourself is out the window as he moves, knocking your feet out from under you and sending you sprawling on your back. He’s on you instantly, pinning you against the floor. Your breath leaves your lungs as you suddenly find yourself face to face with him, close enough to see the shades of brown in his eyes.
“Do you know how long you’ve been teasing me, torturing me? How badly I’ve wanted to touch, to feel, to get a taste for myself?” His face lowers towards yours, and you’re certain if he hadn’t been wearing the mask, you could have felt his breath on your lips. “Weeks I’ve been forced to sit and listen to you with the others, wishing it could be me, wishing I could have that with you without the risk of breaking you, of ruining everything.”
“You’re not going to break me.” You say quietly, trying to reassure him like you did during your chat in the rec room. “I’m not made of glass.”
“I can’t...I can’t risk ruining things for everyone.” He shakes his head, pulling back just slightly.
“What makes you so sure you will? Have you even considered the fact that I want you too? I’ve been waiting for this for so long. Hell, I would be happy if you just wanted to be my friend. I’ve been trying so hard for weeks just for your approval. I never even thought...” You shake your head. “I never even thought you’d feel like this about me. I thought you hated me for so long.”
He’s silent for a moment, staring down at you, his eyes searching yours. “I tried to. I wanted to hate you, but I couldn’t.” He lets out a long breath. “It’s not fair to either of us, it’s not fair to the rest of the pack if we keep doing this. It’s fucking us up, I’m fucking us up. I can’t focus anymore. I damn near killed Johnny when I caught your scent on him after you fucked him before training.”
Your face warms at his words. Of course he’d smelled like you, of course they knew what he was up to. “Well, it’s more like he fucked me... It was his idea.” You shrug.
“Christ.” He breathes, his eyes darkening just a little.
“You don’t have to hold back anymore.” You say. “I-I’m sorry I never noticed, I didn’t figure it out sooner.”
“Wasn’t your fault.” He murmurs, leaning in close again. “My own damn fault for being so stubborn.”
“You don’t have to be anymore.” You breathe. “It’s never too late to start.”
You stare up at him as he hovers over you, chests brushing with every inhale. You’ve been this close before, been in this position before, but it’s never felt quite like this. The intensity between you is greater, not just a test of your will, of your strength when it comes to resisting an alpha’s imposing energy anymore. You don’t want to fight him, you’ve never wanted to fight him in this position. It makes sense now, every time he’s forced you out of that headspace during these moments hadn’t just been to keep you focused on training.
He’s been holding himself back.
“I won’t be gentle.” He says, his voice rumbling through you. His words are honest, spoken in truth. You can see it in his eyes, silently conveying the reality if you decide to continue. It’s a warning, a chance to turn back. He’s offering himself up raw and unfiltered.
“Maybe I don’t want you to be.” You counter, eyes fluttering as you stare up at him. “I don’t need tenderness, someone to comfort me, to pick up the pieces. I’ll go to John if I need that. Maybe I just want you to be yourself.”
A low growl rumbles in his chest at your words, his eyes darkening as he stares down into your shining ones. The back of your neck prickles as the energy shifts, the tension between the two of you coming to a head as the wall keeping the two of you apart begins to crumble.
“I’m not made of glass.” You say, snaking an arm around his neck, his eyes dropping to where your teeth sink into your lip. “Maybe I want someone to be a little rough with me.”
Another growl rumbles in his chest as he leans down even further. You automatically submit to him, tilting your head and bearing your throat to him as you’ve done so many times before in this position. He doesn’t stop you this time, doesn’t force you to turn away as he sinks down completely, pressing his face into the side of your neck. He breathes in deeply, taking in your scent from the source for the first time since your arrival on base.
His breath is warm through his mask as he exhales deeply, his body going lax as he practically squishes you into the mat. It’s not uncomfortable, the heavy weight of him a welcome sensation. It feels like a protective barrier against the world, a comfort knowing he’d keep you safe from any physical threat that might pose itself to you.
That is the difference between the two alphas. John can keep you safe from the horrors in your mind, offer you a comfort only your alpha can as he eases your fear and anxiety. Simon offers a protection against the physical, not that John doesn’t as well, but it feels different between the two of them. John would stand between you and a gun, while Simon would run headfirst towards the person wielding it towards you without a second thought.
Simon shifts just slightly, pulling away from you enough to reach up towards his mask. Your heart stutters in your chest for a moment at the thought of him taking it off, allowing you in enough to see his face. You’re nowhere near that close yet, you know that logically, but the idea excites you.
He tugs his mask up over his nose before pressing back into your throat, his hand slipping under your back to press you tighter against him. A shiver runs down your spine as his skin presses against yours, warm and slightly sweaty from training. You don’t care as he inhales deeply, taking in your scent unfiltered. His exhale is warm and shaky against your skin, his lips slightly chapped as they brush the side of your neck.
Something twists in your stomach as he drags his lips across your skin. Your hand lifts to cup the back of his head, pressing his face further into your neck. You don’t care if you suffocate him, and he doesn’t seem to care either as his body shifts just enough for him to press his thigh between yours.
Your breath shudders as he mouths at your neck, his tongue dragging across your scent gland. Your hips push up against his thigh in response, the friction igniting a fire in your veins. A quiet moan slips through your lips as he drags his teeth across your scent gland, your hips pressing harder against his thigh.
“Fuck.” He breathes against your skin, his hand dropping to grip your hip as you grind against his thigh, your body feeling electric from his touch.
Your head is spinning, your entire body alight with energy as he finally lets go, as he finally loosens that hold he’s been throttling himself with. The sensation of him is nearly overwhelming. His touch, his scent, the knowledge that it’s him. You’d let him fuck you right here in the training room, right on this mat, if he wanted to. You’re already wet, soaking into your panties as you grind against his thigh, his muscles tensing under his sweatpants. You're certain there’s going to be a wet spot against the fabric, something that can’t be explained away by training.
The thought of him finally wearing your scent thrills you.
His hand holds your hip, guiding your movements as you work yourself up. It would be perfect, him giving you your first orgasm just like this. Fully clothed in the training room, the place where your relationship has been tested, where the boundaries have been pushed the most.
Alas, you’re not so lucky. You’re never that lucky.
Both of you freeze as his phone alarm begins to go off, signaling the end of training. It forces you both back into the real world, the electric feeling beginning to fade as the moment ends and the mood in the room shifts. Simon lets out a sigh against your throat, slowly releasing your body as he pushes himself up onto his knees. His eyes are still dark as he stares down at you, your face sweaty, hair sticking to your skin as you lay there on the mat, probably looking absolutely ruined already.
You stare at his skin, the only part of him you’ve ever seen before. You’ve tried to imagine what he might look like, trying to piece together the rest of his face from what you’ve seen.
“We’ll continue this later.” He rasps, tugging his mask back down before pushing himself up to go silence his phone.
You lay there for a moment, catching your breath. You never thought it would feel like that, like straight energy coursing through you. He’d barely touched you and you could have cum from that alone had you been given a couple more minutes. His promise of continuing things later has a thrill running through you, a promise of this new relationship building between you.
Simon walks you to the mess, your face still warm from what had happened in the training room. His arm snakes around your back, his hand on your hip as he leads you to the line, his fingers tightening their hold on you every time someone passes too close. They all stare at you, all giving you looks. You can only imagine the smell, imagine what’s going through their heads.
They all know. They think you fucked him before coming to breakfast.
It wouldn't be the first time you walked in smelling like sex and a member of your pack. It’s just the first time it’s been him.
Your pack eyes you both as you and Simon take your seats at the table, you sitting yourself between Simon and Johnny again.
“Bit late today.” Kyle says, giving you both a look.
“Training ran long.” Simon says, pushing his mask back up over his mouth. Your scent flares a bit as you think about what those lips had felt like on your skin.
John eyes you both, all of them obviously picking up on the change. “I’m sure it did. Did you have a good time?”
“Would have been even better if we’d had a few more minutes.” You shrug, trying to hide your burning face in your porridge.
“Your punctuality has finally worked against you, Simon.” John says.
The alpha shrugs. “Didn’t want a grumpy, hungry omega on my hands.”
“I’m not grumpy when I’m hungry.” You pout. All four pairs of eyes at the table turn to look at you. “Okay, maybe a little.” You admit, spooning a heaping mouthful of porridge into your mouth, hoping the topic of conversation at the table changes so you can cool off just a bit.
Your face is still slightly warm as John walks you back to the barracks. He’s quiet as he leads you across the courtyard, and for a moment you’re worried he’s jealous, or perhaps upset that you’ve taken interest in another alpha besides him. He wouldn’t feel that way. Simon is part of the pack. It’s perfectly natural for you to feel a connection with him. It’s perfectly natural for you both to want to progress your relationship. Plenty of omegas take multiple alphas in a pack. Hell, many of them are claimed by more than just one.
“I’m happy you and Simon have finally worked things out.” He says as you stop in front of your door.
You turn to look up at him, a soft look in his eyes as he stares down at you. “About time, right?”
He chuckles quietly. “Yes, Johnny and Kyle were going to lock you two in a closet soon if things didn’t start developing.”
Your face warms again just a little. “Well, it is thanks to Johnny that we got here.”
“Yes, the skull-print underwear.” John says, smirking slightly. Of course he knows about that. Johnny can’t keep his mouth shut. He probably gave them all a detailed description of what happened at the lingerie store. “I much prefer those pink lacy ones myself.”
Your brows lift as you stare up at him. “What, these ones?” You tug the waistband of your exercise pants down just enough to show the pink lace against your skin.
A low growl leaves John’s lips as he stares down at them, his body crowding you against the door. “Yes, those ones exactly.”
Your breathing quickens as you stare up at him, your underwear still uncomfortably damp from your little tryst in the training room that had forced Simon to leave you high and dry. How no one else had tried to approach the table from the smell of horny omega you had been projecting through the entire mess is a mystery to you. Then again, perhaps it was your pack that had kept you safe. The threat they posed was enough for all the alphas in the room to resist the scent of your slick leaking into your panties.
You wonder how many of them got up to sniff the bench you sat on after you vacated the mess, pressing their faces against the plastic in an attempt to satiate the effect you had on all of them. How torturous it must be, knowing they’ll never have you. An omega right in front of them and their desperation, but they can only look, as the threat of dismemberment is not worth the risk of trying to touch.
The thought has your stomach clenching, more slick dribbling out of you.
“Got you all worked up, didn’t he?” John murmurs, pressing his face against your throat and inhaling. “Fuck, that’s a mixture someone could get drunk off of.”
The alarm on his watch begins to go off, and you half expect him to pull away, to leave you high and dry too, but instead he presses closer to you, his lips blazing a path up the side of your neck.
“Don’t you have training?” You ask, your voice trembling as he nips at your jaw.
“I’m in charge.” He says, pulling away to turn the alarm off before he grabs the waistband of your pants, tugging them down around your knees. ���They can wait.”
He spins you around, pinning your body against your door. You can feel him, hard in his cargo pants as he presses up against you, his breath hot against your ear. He drags his hips against your ass, the line of his cock brushing against the thin material of your panties.
“I’ve got more important things to see to.” He growls, slipping his hand down the front of your body to cup your dripping pussy through the lacy pink panties.
You should have known. You should have known things were too perfect, working out too well. Something always happens, something always ruins it. Something always comes between you, right as things begin to work themselves out, right as you begin to get comfortable.
“I’m leaving.”
You blink up at him, the words barely processing in your mind. “Huh?”
“I’ve got orders, shipping out within the hour.” Simon says, almost too casually.
It is casual to him, though. This is a normal event, part of his existence, part of his normal life.
“The others?” You ask, the words trailing off but you don’t need to finish the question.
“Just me.” He says, crossing the hall to open the door to his room. You follow, feeling like you’re wading through sand.
It almost feels sacrilegious, getting a peek into his room, into his personal space like this. You’ve never seen inside, the few times you’ve walked by as he’s exiting, you’ve averted your gaze, almost afraid to try and look, to see inside his most vulnerable area. The space where he gets to be himself.
Even now you find yourself looking away, turning your gaze down the hallway towards the door. The door he’s going to walk through and disappear for an unknown amount of time.
“How long?” You ask, fighting the urge to look as he moves past the door.
“Don’t know.” He answers, his voice slightly muffled as he stands behind the door, likely grabbing things out of his dresser. “However long it takes.”
You swallow thickly. Of course this is happening now. Of course he’s leaving right when things are starting to happen between the two of you, right when you’ve started to get closer, when he’s starting to allow you in. What will happen when he returns? Will things go back to the way they were before, or will they continue as they are now? What if he changes his mind with some distance, with a chance to clear his head?
What if he doesn’t come back?
Your teary gaze snaps to him as he steps back out into the hall, closing his door behind him. You want to beg him not to go, drop to your knees and convince him to stay with you. He’d never do something like that. He’d never give up his job, no matter what you said, no matter what happened. He’ll always be a loyal soldier over everything.
Even you.
“I’ll be back,” He says, tossing his pack over his shoulder. “Then we can talk.”
You stare up into his eyes, furiously blinking back the tears threatening to fall. “Okay.” The word is so small and broken sounding. You shouldn’t feel this way. He’s not even your alpha.
He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment, hesitating just briefly before he straightens up, heading down the hallway. You hold your breath as you watch him go, his figure blurring as the tears continue to well up. You should tell him, you should run after him and confess, confess to everything. You should hug him, hold him just one more time because you might never get a chance to again.
Your shoes squeak as you race down the hall, throwing the door open. The rain bites at your skin as you run out into it, the weather a perfect metaphor for how you’re feeling inside.
“Simon!” You shout his name, hoping he can hear you over the rain.
He turns back around to face you, both of you standing there in the rain, staring at each other. It’s soaking through your clothes, your hair sticking to your face. You can barely see him, your eyes squinting from the water dripping into them.
This would be the perfect moment, the scene when you run towards each other and collide in the middle in a passionate kiss that speaks of weeks of longing and desire finally being released. No matter how badly you want to run up to him and kiss him, you know you can’t. You want to shout at him, tell him you love him, that you don’t want him to go. You want to confess everything, let all the walls down and beg him to stay, to leave this life behind and run off with you somewhere safer, somewhere there’s no threat of him not coming back.
You wish you could see his face, you wish you could read his thoughts, know exactly what he’s feeling right now. Does he feel the same, or are you a fly buzzing around him again?
“Be careful,” You shout over the sound of the pouring rain, the things you want to say fading to the back of your mind. When he comes back, if he comes back, you’ll tell him. You’ll tell him everything. “And come home safe.”
He stares at you for a moment before nodding. “Always.”
You turn back to the barracks, your shoes crunching on the wet gravel. Your steps are slow, your body still feeling like it’s wading through sand. You turn back, looking over your shoulder one last time at his retreating form slowly disappearing into the heavy rainfall.
Johnny is standing in the doorway as you turn back around, holding it open. You approach it slowly, feeling like the wet, miserable rat you probably resemble. You’re glad for the rain soaking through your clothes and your hair, glad for the droplets streaking down your skin hiding the burning tears sliding down your cheeks.
NEXT ->
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#call of duty#call of duty fic#task force 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#Simon ghost Riley x reader#Simon Riley x reader#John price x reader#captain price x reader#John soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#Kyle gaz Garrick x reader#gaz x reader#a/b/o#omegaverse#alpha/beta/omega dynamics
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Funny Little Girl
Lewis Hamilton x Reader (+ daughter)
Summary: When Lewis' little girl gets sick while he's away, he starts contemplating.
Word count: 2.4k
Tags: female!reader, husband!Lewis, Dad!Lewis, fluff, little bit hurt/comfort, daughter is sick, Lewis is worried, hospital, not beta read
Relationship: Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Note: I wrote this in a spur of the moment at 2 am last night, no beta we die like men. It was genuinely supposed to be a blurb but my brain took over and ran with it. (Once again in my girl dad!Lewis agenda)
Feedback and comments are appreciated xx
Find me on Twitter!
Lewis was restless.
He hadn’t spoken to you since the morning, and usually, by this time you would’ve already texted him a good morning message or even a silly lazy picture.
He knew, obviously with him being away on a race weekend, it was natural that the time difference stood between you, but this time he wasn’t too far from home, just a few hours ahead, so he found it strange that you hadn’t texted him yet. He left a couple messages for you again, but they were only delivered. He tried to call once but it rang and you never picked up.
Then an hour or so later, when he was in the middle of a meeting, he got a call from you, a FaceTime call. Worried, he immediately interrupted the meeting, asking for a ten minute break and scurried off to his room.
He picked up as soon as he closed the door behind himself. On the screen, he could see you, still in your sleeping clothes, and Ivy was on your lap. Lewis stared at his daughter and from one single look he could tell she was not looking well.
“Hi, love. Sorry I didn’t answer your texts earlier…” You said first thing.
“What happened?” Lewis frowned.
“Ivy woke up a little under the weather today. She’s a little feverish.”
He looked at his daughter on the screen again, she wasn’t paying attention to him, her eyes red rimmed like she had been crying, in her hands, tightly held was Brendon the Kraken, her favorite plush toy, and her blankie. She had a beanie on and a pacifier. She was looking at the TV, not minding him or her mom.
“How’s she doing? Are you thinking of taking her to the hospital?” He asked, his heart tightening in his chest.
“Not yet, I think the fever might go down soon. If it doesn’t then I’ll take her to see the doctor,” you explained, rubbing Ivy’s shoulder as she snuggled up to you and Lewis wished he was home with you and Ivy, taking care of his little girl who was just a little under three, “how is everything going? Ready for the race later?”
Lewis bit back a comment of how he just wanted to go home to his wife and to his baby girl. How he wanted to snuggle up with Ivy on the couch with lots of blankets to keep her warm while watching silly cartoons. But instead, he smiled a little and talked about the race for a minute. He knew that if you knew he was sad, you were gonna be sad too, so he just pretended everything was fine and his heart wasn’t broken for being away from his family.
Ivy was a toddler, and he was aware toddlers were a little under the weather all the time and it usually wasn’t that big of a deal. Hell, he had been home a couple of times when his daughter had a little cold before. But every time it happened when he was away, it ripped his heart apart just the same.
“Will you keep me updated on Ivy?” He asked, looking at your sweet face on the screen.
“Of course, and if I take too long to reply, don’t rip your hair off with worry, okay?” You said with a fond smile. You gently nudged Ivy, pulling her pacifier out, “look, baby, say hi to daddy…”
Ivy looked at the screen, and her little lips turned into a pout, her eyes watering.
“Daddy! Want daddy!” She said, starting to cry as she made grabby hands to the screen.
Lewis felt like his heart was being torn open with a jackhammer, the pleading look in Ivy’s eyes, wanting comfort from her daddy and him being a couple of countries away, unable to teleport to her side to hold her.
“Shhh, it’s okay, love, daddy is coming home soon, isn’t he?” You said, trying to comfort your daughter, but she kept crying, fat tears wetting her chubby cheeks.
“I’m going home soon, sweetheart, I promise. Daddy’s gonna be there soon,” he said through the screen, but Ivy only seemed to grow even more agitated, her cries louder. He knew the fact that she was sick was probably playing a part in making her big emotions come out. He tried more comforting words, but both Ivy was agitated and you were trying to comfort as best as you could.
Lewis watched the screen for a few more seconds, swallowing a painful lump in his throat, seeing his daughter’s urgency in having him closer, her big brown eyes wet with tears and the grabby hands towards him as if he could just go home through the screen and pick her up in his arms.
“Sorry, love,” you said, picking up Ivy and she cried against your shoulder, “I’ll hang up to calm her down, okay? I’ll keep you updated.”
“If anything, anything really happens you can call me anytime.” He said, hearing your little whimpering through the screen, “love you two.”
“We love you, Lewis,” you blew him a quick kiss and hung up.
Lewis stared at the black screen for a long time, not really looking, just remembering the look on his little girl’s face as she wanted him close. He swallowed a couple times more, and he decided to text his dad and stepmom to go check on you and Ivy if they had some free time back home.
He went back to his pre-race meeting with a pit in his stomach. He had to make an herculean effort to be present on the race weekend and not let his mind wander back to you and Ivy. He checked a few more texts, and you kept him updated every once in a while. First telling him you got Ivy to eat something, then you sent him a picture of Ivy taking a nap on your chest, and she looked a little better, but you told him she was still a little feverish, but luckily her temperature hadn’t gone up.
Before going to the race, he warned one of the team’s assistants to keep a close eye on his phone, knowing you’d still be sending him updates on your daughter.
He finished the race P4, which wasn’t a bad finishing position but as soon as he was out of the car, he was thinking of Ivy again. When he checked his phone, your last text had been before the race started, a quick selfie wishing him good luck, but after that, there was not a single text from you, and he started worrying all over again.
“If my wife calls or texts, I need you to interrupt anything I’m doing and get the phone to me, okay? No matter what,” he said to the assistant, handing his phone again before going out to the post race interviews.
He was only half-heartedly replying during the interviews, worried that the assistant had not gone to him not even one moment, which could only mean you had not called yet.
Once the interviews were done, he went back to the assistant to check on his phone and he saw three missed calls from you and two from his dad. His stomach instantly dropped.
“I said to get the phone to me if my wife called,” He looked at the assistant who looked like a deer in the headlights.
“I tried, Lewis! The PR lady didn’t even let me through the door. I told her it was your wife and an emergency, but…” The guy defended himself, pointing to the F1 PR coordinator, who looked at Lewis with wide eyes.
“You don’t ever do that again, understood? My family is my priority and you shouldn’t have interfered when he was under explicit orders to find me as soon as my wife called.” Lewis said, he was calm but his voice was firm and left no room for questioning. The woman only nodded, spurting some excuse and apology.
He barely waved her off before finding a secluded little room to check his phone. In the texts, you had warned him that Ivy got worse and you were taking her to the hospital. He immediately called your phone but it went straight to voicemail. He tried a couple more times before trying his dad, who luckily picked up.
“Dad? Where are they?” He said.
“I brought your girls to the hospital, they put Ivy in a room and the doctor is checking her up now. We’re in the waiting room now, so as soon as I have any news, I’ll let you know. Your wife’s phone died, so it’s probably best to talk to me.”
Lewis exhaled, still feeling nervous but a little more comforted that you weren’t alone with Ivy in a moment like this.
“Can you send me the address of the hospital? I’m going straight there. And please, keep me updated.”
After hanging up, Lewis immediately went to find the team to let them know his daughter was sick and he needed to get home as soon as possible, rescheduling the post-race debriefing. He didn’t even get back to the hotel, since he had his suitcase with him at the paddock, he just called his connections and got himself a helicopter back home.
He arrived at the hospital you and Ivy were in a couple of hours later, going straight inside and finding his dad in the waiting room, chatting with a nurse. He hugged his dad, who told him you were inside with Ivy, and the nurse took Lewis and Anthony there.
Lewis entered the room where you were, sitting before the hospital bed, and Ivy was lying on the bed, holding her plushie with one hand and holding her mom’s hand with the other. She looked the same as she had in the FaceTime call that morning.
“Daddy!” Ivy squealed, and Lewis rushed inside, hugging her tightly, careful minding the IV drip in her arm. She smelled the same as always, baby shampoo and home. Lewis inhaled into her curly hair and kissed her cheek.
“Hi, baby… I’m sorry dad took too long to arrive. How is my baby girl doing?” He asked, gently putting her down on the bed, but she grasped his coat as if to stop him from leaving again. He leaned over the bed and pecked your cheek, “Hi, my love…”
You quickly explained to Lewis that that doctor had checked on Ivy and you were waiting for him to bring the results in. Lewis comforted Ivy for a moment, before walking around the bed to hug you. You looked tired, and he imagined you had spent the whole day dealing with a sick, fussy toddler.
“Have you eaten today?” He asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“In the morning,” You mutter, closing your eyes for a moment, enjoying the gentle caress of his knuckles on your cheeks.
“Wanna go home to rest and eat while I stay here with Ivy?” He offered, despite already knowing your reply.
“Of course not, I’m not leaving her side,” You said, rolling your eyes and he smiled.
“Dad, will you take my lovely wife to the cafeteria and make sure she eats something?” Lewis said to his dad, who was still chatting with Ivy. He immediately accepted, and Lewis removed his own coat, putting it around you, “We’ll wait here, okay?”
You nodded and left with Anthony just as Lewis turned to Ivy.
“Are you feeling cold, baby?” He asked the little girl, who looked fussy and sleepy, rubbing her eyes as she nodded.
Ivy made grabby hands, whispering for Daddy, and Lewis got into the hospital bed with her, pulling her to lay on his chest as he adjusted the blankets around her. Her skin was still warm to the touch, and he held her close, wrapping both arms around his little girl while she spoke about her day, whining about her day and about being sick. She was always extra clingy when he came back from his trips.
Lewis gently played with her curls while she spoke, muttering his uh-hu, and yeah, and his of course, baby, until she started slurring out the words and slowly falling asleep.
He smiled, despite the worry, he was glad to be there finally, to be with his wife and daughter.
When you came back to the room, Ivy was sleeping against Lewis’ chest just like she used to do as a newborn, Lewis gently rubbing her back and getting drool in his shirt. You handed him a coffee, and he drank without moving a muscle so as to not wake up your little girl.
The doctor came a few minutes later, checking on Ivy and making sure she was fine and the fever was subsiding, he said it was just a little cold and prescribed a couple of meds.
Lewis carried your little girl to the car seat, while you hugged Anthony goodbye and thanked him profusely for keeping you company when you were going to the hospital earlier. After that, you went home driving, Lewis in the passenger seat.
Arriving home, Lewis carried Ivy to her little bed, tucking her in and touching her forehead to make sure the fever was really gone. When he returned to the bedroom, you had taken a quick shower and was dressed in soft, comfortable pajamas.
“How are you, love?” He asked as you walked lazily up to him and he wrapped his arms around your mirror, pulling you into his chest.
“Just a little tired…” You mumbled, and he pecked your lips, walking you back towards the bed.
“Thank you for taking care of her today, love. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for most of it…” He whispered affectionately into your skin.
“It’s okay, you had work… I’m glad you came straight home to us.” You muttered as he placed you in bed, tucking you in.
“I love you,” He tugged your hand and kissed your knuckles.
He let you fall asleep while he took a quick shower too, changing into PJs before going to check on Ivy again. The doctor had assured that the medicine would take her out for the night, but she’d be totally better the following morning.
When he got in bed with you again, pulling you closer, his arm around your middle, his leg between yours and your face pressed into his chest, he finally breathed. He had been tense the whole day from being away from you and Ivy, worry gnawing at him, and guilt for being away in moments like these. Not only tough moments like this, but also the happy ones. He wondered what else he’d miss of Ivy growing up, and he had missed so much already.
That was the first time he truly contemplated retirement.
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula one#f1 fic#f1#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton fanfic#lh44#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton#lh44 x reader#Spotify
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Please please please I am in desperate need of Astarion comforting Tav.
Like Tav is always comforting everyone else, but there is never anybody to hold their hand when they are scared or hug them when they are sad. Please let them be scared. Let them be sad, let them be vulnerable and let them feel their own emotions.
Tav needs a hug :,)
a/n. no you're so right because I AM ALWAYS OPEN TO TAV LOVE!!!!! This ended up a lot more fluffy and lighthearted than I expected but I hope that’s okay! :) also this is not proofread pls excuse me for the grammar errors that are definitely in here.
You don’t mind helping others, really. You don’t mind guiding Shadowheart to escaping her evil goddess, you don’t mind finding a way to aid Gale’s ticking time bomb, and you don’t mind spending hours in battle to find a piece of infernal iron for Karlach. It’s natural after all, because they’re your precious companions.
But it’s also made the thought of being something else—the one being comforted—more shameful than anything.
It was just a bad day, honestly. Bits of your life being pricked at with needles. The whole week had been hellish, but today seemed to be bent on finally wiping you clean. A battle going wrong, the lake freezing over and preventing you from taking a bath, the pot of soup you were in charge of burning to cinders—they’re all small, but they add up. And when you find that your favorite pair of gloves are splitting at the seams, it’s your final straw.
You stumble into your tent, barely holding back tears as you close the flap shut behind you, signaling that you wanted to be alone. You collapse into your bedroll, face first as even the blanket beneath you isn’t enough to cushion you against the hard floor.
Gods.
You squeeze your eyes shut, begging your tears to leave. The others have a lot more problems at the moment—ones that wager between life and death—but you can’t help the overwhelming burst of emotions you’ve kept bottled in for weeks now. So many bad things are happening, but there’s no time for you to mourn, because the least you can do is stand beside your companions in their own grief. It forces you to constantly stay alert, keeping your heart open for them but shut closed for yourself.
It’s so, so overwhelming. It almost feels like it’ll swallow you whole.
“Are you alright, darling?”
You hadn’t even heard him entering the tent, and immediately your shoulders tense as you shoot up into a sitting position, wiping desperately at your eyes. You know they’re red, but you hope he ignores it. “No, I’m just tired. I’m turning in early for tonight, sorry.”
He stares at you, making his suspicion blatantly obvious to urge you to continue but you don’t, forcing your eyes to the ground. “No need to be sorry, my love. I was just making sure.”
You want to throw yourself into him. To let him hold you as you complain about the more mundane parts of life as well as the feelings wracking the sobs of your chest. To let him soothe you as all you can do is cry.
But you don’t. It’s just not what you do.
“Pity, these pretty things of yours,” he lifts your gloves that had been discarded on the ground with a cock of a brow. “I quite liked them. But…they don’t seem to be at a complete loss yet.”
You finally look at him.
“Why it just needs a bit of stitching and some polish. It’ll look even better than it did before with my handiwork,” he inspects the fabric closely. “Hm, I was finished with fixing Karlach’s shirt anyway, I suppose I could spare some time for your gloves.”
Despite his words, his eyes are gentle as they shift over to you, and it makes your lip quiver.
“I’ll ask again,” he says softly, and you know it’s an effort in vain to resist. “Are you alright?”
Like a river breaking through a dam, you fling yourself into him, tears already slipping down your cheeks as they smear against his shirt. You worry about the snot for a split second, yanking away, but he just pushes your head back to him, sighing with you practically wrapped on top of him.
“You should have told me before things had gotten this bad, my love,” he says, no true judgment laced in his words. If anything, he sounds amused. It makes you cry even harder as you wail loudly into his chest, with his hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.
It’s like a breath of fresh air.
“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks eventually after what seems like eternity, and your sobs have calmed to sniffles.
“…not now.”
“Very well,” he laces his fingers with yours, and you tilt your head up just enough to see the fond smile stretching on his lips. “I shall remain here until you’re ready. Until then, I have no quarrels with our current arrangement.”
You mumble against him as he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “…thank you for this.”
“You needed this,” he replies, as if it’s obvious. “I’m not you, of course, which is why comfort is not my strong suit, as charming as I am. I much prefer blowing off steam in a bloody battle, but this—“ he runs a hand through your hair, gentle enough not to pull at any strands. You resist the need to sigh into the feeling. “—this, I can do as many times as you need.”
#astarion ancunin#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion#bg3 x reader#fluff#bg3
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Hello! This is me! 𝕪/𝕟 𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕟! This is my tumblr in case you don't know me i have a youtube channel which I upload texting stories videos to it! And this is my first post here in tumblr (original)
Some male Hashiras + kagaya reaction to you sacrificing yourself for them
⚠ Warning : spoiler in kyojuro and kagaya, take of death, blood, injuries, crying, some of them are really short
Giyu Tomioka
You and Giyuu were fighting against 2 demons who used a blood demon art
You killed one and Giyuu killed the other one
Or so you both thought...
"You did well giyuu_san!" You said smilling putting your sword in place
While giyuu just nodded humming as a silent 'thank you'
This only made you smile even wider. You've been friends with giyuu with great amount of time now
You both actually gets along very well Despite your different personalities
So you got used to his comforting quiet gesture
"All right! Let's head back n-"
You suddenly stopped sensing that something is wrong While giyuu looked at you wondering why you fell silent so suddenly
"Wh-"
You breathed in sharply, catching a glint in the air watching it whizz towards Giyuu.
"not on my watch!"
You yelled, quickly drawing your sword breaking the unknown object in half.
Giyuu's eyebrow twitched, taking his sword out of its sheath.
"giyuu, there!" You shouted, pointing to the direction of the demon that was currently perched on one of the trees.
The two of you gave each other a knowing nod, rushing towards the trees and jumped landing on one of the branches,
"come back here you coward!" You barked, skillfully jumping from tree to tree, following after the demon.
The demon hissed, sending metal shards towards you and Giyuu, which the two of you dodged with ease
"breath of ice..." you mumbled taking a deep breath
"dance of frozen crystals!"
Streams of sparkling diamond-like figures flowed out your sword as you jumped upwards, holding your katana over your head as you swung it effectively cutting half of it's body;
sadly, not his neck, as he covered it with a steel-like substance.
"Y/n!"
Giyuu called out, causing you to look back at him wondering why did he sound so worried
You saw he was looking horrified looking at your chest rather than your face
'why did he sound so-'
You were caught out of your thoughts by yourself coughing something liquid out of your mouth
You looked down at your chest, a large sharp metal shard piercing through the middle of your chest
"uh.. F-fuck.." you muttered stumbling back and falling against a tree vomiting even more blood feeling it a bit hard to breathe
"y/n! No!" giyuu shrieked running at your slumbering and bloody figure against the tree
"giyuu.. The d.. emon" You mumbled, coughing out a worrisome anmountof blood, the crimson liquid spilling out of your lips in mouthfuls.
"i cant leave you..." he whispered as of scared of starling you
"i cant you are in_" "... Dying"
You corrected him. Mastering the last energy you had to cup his face with your bloody hand while lying in his embrace
"i am.. Dying, Giyuu..."
"no.. No you are not.. You can slow the ble-" "my lungs are... damaged giyuu"
Tears burned his eyes, hugging you close to his chest and placed his hand over your cheek
"i.. Love you... Giyuu... So... Much.. " you confessed as you started to lose consciousness and struggling even more to keep your eyes open
You took a deep breath but sadly... It didn't come out again...
"y/n.. Y/n... Hey.." giyuu said with shaky voice as a couple of tears escaped his eyes
"hey...don't do this to me, love... I–i love you too... Why did you do this... I–i don't deserve this..."he said as he closed your lifeless eyes with his fingers
"i am sorry i am too useless to be able to protect you..." he was now on full mode sobbing
Oh how cruel is it that you didn't even hear the person you love saying thing you wanted to hear from him the most...
Obanai Iguro
No...
No no no no...
That wasn't supposed to happen...
The hit was meant for him...
It was meant for him damn it!
Why did you have to take it for him
He doesn't deserve it
He doesn't deserve to live
Why would he live while you are here dying in his arms gasping and wheezing for air
He is enraged
His fear tends to come out as anger
So while you are literally dying he is shouting at you for how stupid you are, how foolish to waste your precious live over his useless one
His shouting you mutter out an Inaudible : 'sorry... '
Just then the anger turns into tears
"you idiot..." he wailed... Actually wailed.. Something you never thought you'd see, not that you wanted to in the first place
It was supposed to be him...
"don't you dare apologise..." he hugged you even tighter feeling you fading away from him as you tried to breath but it only come out as a horrible choking sound as you choked on your own blood
His cheek rested on top of your head
"o-oba... nai.. " you said chocking in the middle of word as the hole in your chest began seeping even more blood
"g–give them.. H–hell for m–me... Yeah?..."
Oh he would...
He would make them pay for taking you away from him
For making the only person who kept him moving forward...
Is now cold and limb in his arms...
Sanemi shinazugawa
Fuck!
Shit! Shit! Shit! Fuck!
He physically can't handle what he is looking at
As he refused to stop saving you even after you already stopped breathing
"shit! Shit!" he pressed harsher on the wound, the blood was slowing but not because of his relentless attempt...
You were gone... Not even being able to get a word out because of how harshly he was crying
For some reason... Even in your final moments you found it kind of comforting that he was try his best to save you
You felt your heart break looking at him from the other side hugging your cold, lifeless body... Trying to squeeze some warmth into it even though he knows its useless
Kyojuro Rengoku
You coughed out blood as akaza hand went through your stomach
"Y/N! NO!"
You took the hit for kyojuro
I mean... How could you not... You just couldn't let someone like him die
You just couldn't...
Gripping your sword harder, you slashed it against his neck making his eye widen
'she got in my way! And she still has the strength!
Akaza thought as he was amazed at how you still has the strength to even breathe
'Kyojuro, im going to die. I know. We had a life planned in front of us, but..l couldn't let you die. I just can't'
You thought as The demon tried to punch your face, but you stopped it with your other hand
"Y/N!!"
'you won't get away... Akaza!'
Looking behind the demon, but still applying force on the neck, you looked behind to see Rengoku with the boy from before charging at you with their swords.
A smile got onto your face.
'I wont ever let go off the sword ..Until I cut his head off!'
"INOSUKE MOVE! MOVE FOR Y/N-SAN!"
The boar now charged at you with speed His attack cut the demons arms, your sword still attached to his neck.
He was running away, clearly.
The boy threw his sword at the demon,.
stabbing him through the chest. Followed by Screaming of how he was a coward by running away and that both Rengoku and you were stronger than him.
You felt two gentle pair of hands gripping your back, drops of water, or tears, to your cheek as kyojuro took you in his embrace trying to stop the bleeding even though he knows it's a fatal wound
"Y/n.. No. No..please don't leave me! Please! I beg you! I will go down on my knees if it have to!"
"kyo... It's okay..." You say voice barely a whisper as you gathered all the strength you had trying to put your hand on kyojuro's cheek.
He quickly took your bloody hand in his and put it over his cheek
"no no... The hit was meant for me to take... Why did you have to get in the middle... Why.."
"i just couldn't.. Let–" vomiting blood "y-you... Die"
You said panting feeling like you can't breathe anymore...
Kyojuro the brust out sobbing burying his face in your neck as your body laid lifeless in his arms
It was supposed to be him dammit!
He was supposed to be the one protecting you!
Not the other way around!
On the other side tanjiro watching the scene feeling his heart break over and over again
Another love story between two lovers was ruined by those disgusting Creatures
Tengen uzui
after a long and hard battle you had ended up dangling off the side of a cliff barely holding onto an also seriously injured tengen.
He could feel your fingers slipping from his.
you were both tired and injured it was a tough battle and despite the demons head being cut off you had taken some heavy blows and now you were dangling off the side of a cliff, barely conscious as tengen held onto your hand with his
"dont worry y/n! ill pul you up Soon!"
you could see him struggling to hold your hand and knew that if he held on any longer he might go down with you
watching him struggle above you made your heart ache as you couldnt do anything to help
"Ten.."
the both of you made eye contact with each other
"thank you for being with me... I love you so much"
his eyebrows twitched at your words
"why does it sound like youre saying goodbye? y/n. You better hold into my hand!"
his jaw was clenched as he spoke to you
you couldnt leave him
if only he had killed that demon sooner
if only he could have protected you
in this moment he hated the gentle smile that was on your face
because to him it meant he had failed
"we both know we'll both fall if you dont let go, neither of us have enough strength left to do anything."
"its okay ten, im ready. i love you and I'll always be watching over you. live well"
he could feel your fingers one by one letting go of his hand and he tried as hard as possible to not let go
"y/n please! I.. I can't do this without you... "
you just shook your head
"im sorry ten but you have to, i know you can. you're going to do great things, with or without me."
"always remember that i love you... And i'll always be watching you"
With that, the last grip he had on you failed
the serene smile on your face was the last thing he saw as you fell to your probable death,
shattering his heart
he screamed your name on the top of his lungs as your hands disconnected followed by painful sobs
Not again...
First his siblings now you..
He lost so many loved ones
of course he knew that he was too injured to pull you up and the most he could have done was just hold onto you until help came,
If help came...
he hated this,
he hated himself
what was the point of being strong when he couldnt even save the one person he loved most in this entire world
"Live well" it was one of the last things you told him hed try his best to because you asked him of it but to him living well meant being by your side which was something he couldnt do anymore.
Muichiro Tokito
poor baby doesn't really know what to do
he's kneeling beside you with a worried look
he's sweating and his hands are clammy
he remains silent for the most part
"Y/n?"
He is right next to you, hand nervously taking your own
"Don't worry."
you give him a weak smile as scary as it was, just his presence was enough.
"|-what do I do?"
The fear in his face made your heart clench.
"Just stay with me. You dont need to do a thing..."
You squeezed his hand with the last bit of strength
you had, smiling softly
"Be careful okay? There are still a lot of demons left"
You didn't fear death,
but you did fear what would happen to those you
loved once it got to you.
Kagaya ubuyashiki
This took place before the explosion in the final battle era
Your husband's hand is cold in yours. You squeeze his
fingers and watch the moonlight bleed out the color of
his skin into silver.
"Are you well, love?" you ask quietly. A washbowl rests to your side, the cloth draped over the side dripping droplets of water down the floor. You take it and wrangle the water with one hand as best as you can,
laying it atop his forehead after. Kagaya closes his eyes and smiles beatifically. It looks painful.
"I will be fine," he says. A mere whisper; it runs wild in the echoes of the night. "| am certain... After tonight, everything will be fine again." You hum thoughtfully. Your heart turns like a clock,
mechanical, a slave to fate. You dare not tell him anything.
"I wonder. . " Kagaya starts. "How does the sky look tonight, Y/N?"
You looked up at the sky as the clouds moved to reveal the beautiful moon
"it's beautiful..." you said as he leaned into your hand as you caressed his cheeks
"he is here..."
A long shadow blocks the moonlight. You look up.
Plum red eyes stare back.
"It's finally nice to meet you, Kibutsuji Muzan," Kagaya says casually.
A chuckle flits in your ear, honey-thick and suave.
Muzan's jacket rests precariously on his shoulders,
and the wind picks up, as if trying to steal it away. The sleeves whip around him uselessly.
"Well;" he says. "You sure look terrible, Ubuyashiki."
If you do not look too closely, you can still delude
yourself into dreaming that this is a normal family.
Your twins have not stopped playing, and their
laughter mingles with the song.
*after the speech because i cant recall it 💀*
"Kibutsuji" You incline your head, a mockery of respect. "You may have prepared for everything.. But there is one thing you didn't prepared for.."
"and what would that may be?"
"this–" you pulled out teh explosion monitor and jumped on kagaya and just before it explored a room open under kagaya's bed and you both fell into a room underground where your kids were waiting for you to come and there was a secret door which led to outside
But it was quite the fall, but you shielded kagaya's body with yours as you he fell on top of you
"Uhmm... " Kagaya groaned from the pain of the impact but more at the though that you were hurt from the fall and his weight together
"it's okay... It's okay..." you said as you cradled kagaya's fragile body
"i just need you to hold on for me... Can you do that please?"
The explosion was loud on top of you but what was more terrifying was the piece of wood of the selling above you that was about to fall
So you quickly pushed kagaya out of the way just as the piece of wood fell on your lower body completely breaking it
"y/n! " Kagaya yelled as best as he could as he heard your crying of pain
"i am fine! I am fine!" You shouted as you tried to stop the tears from dropping from the pain
"kiriya! Listen! Take your father and run out of here!"
"b–but mo–" "no buts! This piece of seilling completely crushed my lower par! You won't be able to get it out! Even if you did i'd be just a burden! I won't be able to run! No go! Go!"
Kiriya quickly carried his father on his shoulder as best as he could
"no... Y/n... If we die... we die together.. That's a promise..."
"well.. Look like i have a change of plans, sorry love"
You said as you smiled sadly at him even though he can't see it
*time skip*
"CAW! CAW! KIBUTSUJI MUZAN IS DEFEATED! KIBUTSUJI MUZAN IS DEFEATED! THE FINAL BATTLE IS OVER! CAW! CAW!"
Kagaya opened his eyes at the sound of the noisy crow.. And for the first time in years...
He sees the sky clearly as the curse marks started to fade from his body...
He quickly tried to ran into the place where his estate is supposed to be with only one though in mind...
'y/n...'
He opened his eyes clearly for the first time in years and the first face he wanted to look at was yours
"oyakata_sama! Wait! You are not fully recovered yet!"
The kakushi tried to warn him but he just didn't care
He wanted to see you, to touch you, to tell you how much you mean to him even though words cannot describe, to make sure you are alright
But what he saw made him stop and his blood run cold...
The estate.. His home... Your home.. Is now crumbled to pieces with you under all that
he quickly took off and tried to dig into the rubble in hopes maybe.. Just maybe.. You are still alive...
"master..."
The kakushis and the remaining of the hashiras felt thier heart break looking at thier master like this...
Nevertheless, they started to help thier master find his wife.. I mean.. You were like a mother and a big sister to them all...
"I found something!" one of the kakushi shouted as he saw your bloody hand sticking out of the rubble
They quickly ran to where he was and started digging even more, just as they reached your head they all stopped and stepped back for thier master to take a look at you...
"oh my dear..."
Kagaya quietly knelt down where your bloody upper body only was visible
He caressed your bloody
cheek just as you did with him a few hours ago...
Oh how beautiful you looked... Even if you were cold and pale with your lips starting to get blue..
He missed you so much that he almost forgot the way you looked...
You looked even more beautiful than he remembered even with the black circles under your eyes and the few wrinkles that appeared on your face and the grey hairs despite how young you are...
"oh love... How many times did i tell not to worry to much about me..." Kagaya whispered as he caressed your cold skin with a few tears falling from his eyes "like this you will age before time..."
He hugged you one last time before the kakushis free your body completely from the rubble and take you to bury your beautiful body
Today the world won peace.. But he lost his...
#uzui tengen x reader#uzui x reader#tengen x reader#tengen uzui x reader#hashira x reader#kny x reader#kny headcanons#kyojuro rengoku x reader#kagaya ubuyashiki x reader#kagaya x reader#kyojuro x reader#rengoku kyojuro x reader#rengoku x reader#iguro x reader#giyuu x reader#tokito x reader#muichiro x reader#sanemi x reader
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In Her Absence: Lucanis/Rook/Spite.
A03 link! Female Crow Rook x Lucanis. Lucanis POV.
Takes place when Rook is in the fade prison, because 1) I love angst and am a big softie; and 2) I wanted to try to work out the logistics of what the team did in Rook's absence, and how they managed to reach her.
---
In the four days that Rook’s been gone, the Veilguard has devolved completely into infighting.
Taash wants to know why they can’t just “break into the fade and pull her out.” And no one really wants to hear Emmrich’s overly technical explanation as to why that’s not feasible, least of all Taash, who’s grieving and angry. Davrin keeps saying that it should have been him instead, which isn’t helping, and no one even wants to think about what’s happening to Bellara right now.
Harding is dead. Bellara is kidnapped by Elgar’nan and Maker knows where. They’re a mess as a group, angry and hurting. And Rook...
Rook’s gone.
Neve is the only person who remotely has their shit still together, and for that at least, Lucanis is thankful.
Because he absolutely does not have his shit together. Maybe the others can’t tell, since he’s not arguing or yelling or breaking down, but his thoughts are spiralling so badly that he’s barely said a word in three days. All he can think about is Rook.
He loves her. He loves her. And she’s lost somewhere, trapped and alone, and they have no plan whatsoever on how they’re going to get her back.
He never told her. It’s tearing him up inside. The thought that he might never hear her voice again. Never hear her make some stupid pun, or hear her teasing, or hear her give them all one of her legendary pep talks. Never hear her laugh again-
“Lucanis,” Neve’s voice is firm, dragging him out of his despondency, “You need to focus.”
How can he possibly focus? “You’re right,” he says instead, voice tight, because Neve is right. Standing around brooding isn’t getting them any closer to getting Rook back. What he needs to do is act- but how?
Solas is a God, and even he couldn’t break out of that prison. This isn’t the kind of problem Lucanis can solve with a dagger. He can’t stab at the prison walls until they crumble away- but Maker knows if that could work, he would stab until his daggers shattered and his body collapsed.
What is he supposed to do? What can he do? How can he help them, when all he knows how to do is kill things?
No. Spite says to his left, his voice hard and determined, No! We will find Rook. Won’t leave them there.
Neve puts a hand on his shoulder, and gives it a squeeze.
“When has Rook ever been content to sit and wait to be rescued?” Neve says, and he lets out a long, even exhale, because it’s exactly what he needs to hear. “I’m worried too. But Rook would chew off her own leg to escape a trap. If there’s a way to get out, she’ll find it. Have some faith in her. In all of us- and in yourself.”
“Thank you,” he murmurs, voice quiet. After a moment, he adds, “…Someone should let Viago and Teia know.”
That, at least, is a burden he can bear.
But the days stretch into weeks. Elgar’nan seizes control of an already broken Minrathous, and even Neve has a hard time keeping herself together after that one.
Lucanis is in no place to offer comfort. Without Rook’s leadership and steadfast optimism, the lighthouse has gone dark, leaving them all ships to smash into a rocky coast. He won’t soon forget the way Viago’s eyes widened when he told him what had happened to Rook, nor the look of horror that flashed across his face before his expression settled into stony devastation.
Strangely, it’s Spite that keeps him from falling apart completely. He refuses to accept that Rook is gone. Every time that Lucanis’ mind whispers to him that this happened because he wasn’t good enough, and that he’ll never see Rook smile at him again- Spite cuts him off with an angry, defiant hiss of NO.
Rook is strong. Rook is smart! Rook will not allow herself to die in a prison. She would not let you die in prison, either. We will not let her. We will find her. We will find her!
He repeats the words in his own head, holding onto them like a buoy. Right, yeah. She’s good at prison breaks. It’s enough to make it through the day.
Sometimes- although Lucanis would never admit it to the others- he realizes that Spite is the one who has been moving his body, keeping him working while he’s been stuck in his mind, ruminating and aching with missing her. It’s been Spite that’s forcing him to eat, to bathe, to sleep. Spite is keeping him alive.
Will not let you do this to us. Rook needs us.
It’s that thought that ultimately gets Lucanis to snap out of his despair.
It’s not over yet. He agrees, finally. Rook needs us.
Finally! Spite snaps back.
---
First, they try to make a copy of the dagger. Something that will be able to slice through the fade prison, so that they can cut Rook out of it. That’s how Solas left, after all- by tricking her, and stealing the dagger to cut himself free.
But a dagger of pure lyrium isn’t exactly easy to replicate. Brilliant as they are, Emmrich and Neve can only do so much. So after days of meticulous work, they end up with a dagger that looks identical to the real thing, but doesn’t actually work. Great.
Next, Emmrich hypothesizes that in order to get to Rook in the fade, they’ll not only need to figure out how to access the fade prison, but also to figure out where the prison actually is, physically within the fade.
It is, apparently, not as simple as yelling out “ROOK? CAN YOU HEAR US?” from the top of the Lighthouse, which has been Taash’s strategy. Spite, too, is ready to start just travelling through the fade, for as long and as far as he needs to until he finds her. Lucanis is doing what he can to support the group, cooking the meals and making sure Emmrich and Neve are able to stay on their feet.
Word gets to them that Solas is in Minrathous, keeping the rebellion alive. The news poisons Lucanis so thoroughly with hate that he nearly can’t stomach it. Spite has been so determined to save Rook that Lucanis almost forgot how it felt when he was really, truly spiteful.
Hearing Solas is pretending to be a hero in Tevinter, after consigning Rook to take his place in a prison? Yeah. That’ll do it. The things he’d wanted to do to Illario after his betrayal had left him conflicted. He is not remotely conflicted about what he wants to do about Solas.
What they want to do. Spite agrees with him on this one. He hurt our Rook.
Finally, Emmrich and Neve work out a real plan, with the help of the Veil Jumpers. It’s based largely on luck, but it’s something. It’s a sliver of hope. It’s enough to keep them all going.
First, they need to find a spot where the veil is particularly thin, where the fade peaks through the seams of reality. Then, they need to use an artifact of the Veil Jumper’s to do… magical, fade, location-y… stuff. Emmrich actually uses a bit of Rook’s blood for this part, located on some stained clothes that Assan had dug out in her room.
Blood magic. Ordinarily, Lucanis would be opposed. But no one says a word against it. They are all desperate for this to work.
The first day they try it, it doesn’t work. They make some adjustments, and try again.
The second day, it doesn’t work. They make some more adjustments, and they try again.
On the fifth day, Spite says it in his ear, voice sharp with excitement.
I can smell her- I can smell Rook!
Lucanis’ heart feels like it’s about to burst from his chest. He’s yelling, “Rook?” into the rift before he can stop himself, but the team’s caught on already that this isn't like the other times they’ve failed to make their plan work. The rift is spitting and spasming sparks of magic, and they can see through it in a way they’d never been able to before. They can see a light in the rift.
Emmrich seems to throw caution entirely to the wind, rolling up his sleeve and plunging his arm into the rift. The energy is wild, unrestrained, and they’re all calling out to Rook, reaching and trying to get to her.
“I’ve- I’ve got her!” Emmrich yells out, and Lucanis swears he can see Rook’s wavy form on the other side of the rift. Like looking through a fishbowl, or the walls of the Ossuary.
He reaches in too and grabs her hand with Emmrich, and they yank. Rook stumbles out, collapsing onto the ground.
“Varric’s dead,” she says, voice hollow and wobbly.
Neve shoots Lucanis a confused, concerned look, but he’s too relieved to care. He’s grabbing at her shoulders, pulling her into a tight embrace, and his throat feels like it’s closing up on him. Tears prick at his vision. She’s safe. She’s alive, she’s free, and she’s safe. She’s back with them.
They all want to hug her, and make sure she’s actually, really okay. But Lucanis gets to first.
Told you. Told you, told you! Spite repeats, ecstatic, She’s back!
“Are you okay?” He murmurs, pulling back and looking her over critically, trying to see if she’s been hurt or if anything has changed. But no. It’s just her. Like not a day has passed.
Rook nods slowly, and Lucanis smooths a hand down her hair, before cupping her cheek in his hand. All he wants to do is hold her, but he can’t be that selfish and drag her away from the others. Not yet, anyway.
Pulling back, the others take the moment to rush in, making similar careful assessments and doting over Rook. The last few weeks have been almost unbearably difficult. There’s been little to celebrate. But this is joy again. Hope. With Rook back, not everything is completely fucked.
Davrin pulls her into a crushing hug, and Taash joins in, and they’re all hugging and crying a little. The trip back to the Lighthouse is a blur, with Rook thanking the Veil Jumpers and swearing to them she’ll get Bellara back.
How she can already be so determined, so ready to act, Lucanis will never know. He is, as he has so often found himself, in awe of her ability to forge forward, the light cutting through the swathes of dark that seem to surround them.
Spite is just about ready to try to crawl out of their skin in impatience, but they have work to do first. They all brief Rook on what has happened in her absence, and learn- horrifically- that she’s somehow been brainwashed into believing Varric has been alive, for months, by Solas.
Not for the first time, Lucanis feels anger and spite bubbling in his veins and vows to himself that he will not let Solas get away with hurting Rook. God or not. He finds it hard to fathom why he would mess with her head like that, if he wanted her to succeed in at least stopping Ghilan’nain. It reminds him too much of the mind games that his captors would play on him when he was in the Ossuary, tormenting and confusing him for no other reason than to break him down. Was that what Solas had tried to do to Rook, too? To break her down mentally, so she’d be easier to manipulate and trick?
It seems to take forever, but finally, Lucanis gets to see her alone. She’s lying down when he enters her quarters, her eyes closed, but the words spill out of him before he can even consider leaving her to rest.
“I cannot believe we found you,” he says, voice soft. All of the fear he’s felt for weeks, the doubt and the despair that Spite had helped him just barely keep at bay… the relief, now, is making him lightheaded.
“I’m a little surprised too, honestly.” It’s a testament to the gravity of the situation that she’s not trying to make light of things. The words aren’t meant as a joke.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” he admits.
“And I didn’t think I’d ever get out of there,” Rook tells him in turn. It leaves him cold, to think of her there, alone and believing she might never be found. “How do I know if I really did? This could be... more of the fade.”
Lucanis realizes then, that he’s never seen her vulnerable like this before. Emotional, yes, but lost? Frightened? Rook has always been the solid centre of the group. Unmoving, unyielding, steady. Utterly dependable.
It’s almost surprising that she’s not actually invincible. She’s so consistently been their guiding light. But more than shock, more than anything else-
He wants to protect her. He wants to hold her until her worries melt away, to chase away the horrible memories of the last several weeks and see her smile at him. He wants her to know that he won’t let anything hurt her. He wants to kiss her until she feels safe and warm again.
So he does. Kneeling down in front of her, holding her hands in his own, Lucanis reassures her she is real. There’s so much he wants to tell her, that he’s been praying he’ll get the chance to say. But now that Rook’s in front of him again, he can’t seem to find the words for everything he’s been feeling.
So he kisses her. So, so gently. And when he keeps kissing her, pressing her back against the chaise as she wraps her arms around his neck? It seems Spite is right there with him, because the wings unfurl right in that moment, curling around them both protectively, like he wants to help shield them from anyone in the world who might try to hurt them.
#lucanis dellamorte#spite dragon age#lucanis x rook#rookanis#spite x rook#antivan crows#dragon age#dav spoilers#dragon age spoilers#dragon age the veilguard#veilguard spoilers#dragon age rook#maybe i'll write a smutty p2. but not tonight!#have i mentioned i love lucanis and spite#my writing
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the call || platonic grid & gr63
☆ summary: y/n y/l/n gets a call up to race for alpine with 6 races left in the 2024 season and she’s got something to prove.
☆ pairing: platonic!grid x crush!george russell x rookie!female!reader
☆ fc & warnings: no fc. some hate comments and poor grammar on my end
☆ a/n: i was inspired by franco and liam getting called up to race for the remainder of the season and here we are. no hate to este bestie, just pretending dw. this is not supposed to be accurate to exactly how things have been playing out. smau mixed with writing!!
part 2
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
f1 has made a post
liked by ynuser, pierregasly, landonorris, georgerussell63, yourbff, ynupdates, and 867,234 others
f1: 🚨 breaking: y/n y/l/n will be racing under the number 95 for alpine for the remainder of the 2024 season alongside pierre gasly. y/n’s first race will be the united states grand prix. this is the first time since 1992 that a woman has raced in a grand prix format - this will be a historic weekend.
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user1: this is the best thing to ever happen to me you don’t understand
pierregasly: ready to attack the rest of the season with you ynuser!!
ynuser: here’s to a strong finish 💪🏻
alpinef1team: we can’t wait to have our girl on track!
user12: they really think a woman is going to be any better than what they had??? please….
user1: oh you are miserable. get out of here
georgerussell63: epic! ynuser i am so proud of you
ynuser: 🤍 see you in austin
user2: i can’t believe im witnessing a woman f1 driver in my life time. i am crying real tears of joy
landonorris: from our karting days to f1. you are amazing ynuser! looking forward to being on track with you
ynuser: so glad to be racing with you again lando 🤍
user3: this is monumental
user6: we got a woman in f1 before gta6
✿
you sat in silence staring down at the paperwork in front of you. everyone had long since left returning to their duties, allowing you to process what you had just been told. “it’s really happening,” you whispered feeling tears welling in your eyes. you were about to become an f1 driver - a real life f1 driver!! and no, not just a reserve driver who did nothing but the sim all day every day. your shoulders sagged as you blew out a sigh. “it was all worth it,” you thought back to the years of blood, sweat and tears put into racing — from leaving the comfort of your childhood home to go karting in europe, to watching your parents give up everything to make sure your dreams came true, to finding yourself in f1 academy where you won the championship, to fighting for a chance to race in f2 and becoming the only woman to finish in the points - you had given everything to this sport and you were finally getting your chance.
you picked up your phone and dialed your best friend. “y/n? hi! did you have your meeting yet?!”
“i’m going to drive the rest of the season,” you said softly.
“WHAT?!” your best friend practically screamed into the other end of the phone.
“i’m taking the second alpine seat!!! im going to be starting in austin.” the tears of happiness started falling now.
“oh my god y/n/n!!!! YOU DID IT BABY YOU DID IT!” you could hear your best friend jumping up and down in excitement.
“i did it.”
✿
ynuser has posted to their story
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user1: i can't explain to you how excited i am to see you on track this weekend y/n
pierregasly: jealous you got the media duties with the horses and not the american football team like i did.....
ynuser: HAHA idk why they didnt send us together
pierregasly: they knew our joint slay would be too much to handle
user7: as a young woman in a male dominated field... thank you for representing us. i love you and i am so proud of you
yourbff: my flight lands in exactly 1 hour and i am shaking with excitement
ynuser: if you think you're shaking with excitement you should see me... just got word im in the pre race press conference with george and max v......... pray for me girl
yourbff: okok we knew this was going to happen. of course they'll want to talk to you!! you're the new face on the grid
ynuser: is it bad to admit im afraid?
yourbff: admitting you’re afraid just means you’re human y/n. you're allowed to feel
ynuser: idk what i'd do with out you
yourbff: you'll never have to know! now go get ready!! i'll be there just in enough time to make the conference start.
yourbff: p.s your media day fit absolutely ate that dress and the cowgirl hat was lethal. f1 should be thanking you for being such a baddie
georgerussell63: howdy ms y/n
ynuser: howdy georgie --- see you at the press conference 🙂↔️
georgerussell63: looking forward to it
landonorris: NEIGHHHH
ynuser: lando?
landonorris: sorry was pretending to be one of those horses so you'd pay attention to me
ynuser: hahahahaha you muppet. ive missed you
landonorris: i missed you too y/n/n! believe it or not i miss fighting it out on track with you too. ready to smoke ya just like i did in our karting days
ynuser: i mean you are in a mclaren and have a lot of practice so id certainly hope you were faster than me
landonorris: well when you put it like that its not as fun.......
user9: bought an alpine hat and am bedazzling a shirt with your name on it as we speak
✿
the alpine pr team had wasted no time sitting you down as soon as you got to austin. they ran through what to expect from your media duties, how to respond to any and all questions that might be thrown your way and how to save face if needed but somehow as you sat down on the iconic white couch and looked out at the crowd of reporters forming in front of you, you felt all of that training start to fail you. the nerves were taking over as george and max took their spots to your right. you were thankful when the british driver gave you a reassuring smile and a slight nod letting you know it was ok.
"good afternoon and welcome to the 2024 united states grand prix!" the interviewer beamed at the camera before turning his attention to the three of you. "today we are joined by max verstappen, george russell and formula 1's newest driver, y/n y/l/n."
the interviewer started by asking max about the championship and how he was feeling about lando continuing to close the gap. you used that time to steady your breathing, knowing a question was headed your way at any moment. "y/n, first of all, i want to say congratulations!" the interviewer grinned and you smiled back. "you are coming into this season with only 6 races left and a rather tall order to get up to speed quickly for some points and fight for a seat on the grid in 2025. how are you feeling about it all?"
you sighed, relieved at an easy first question, "thank you! i'm trying to take it all in stride. it's definitely a tall order because these guys have had 19 races to get a feel for their cars, work with their teams, and solidify their standings… i'm going to have exactly one free practice to learn everything before heading into sprint qualifying and i think that puts me a little bit on the back foot. though, i am more confident than ever that i can pull out some points and finish this season strong for alpine."
the interviewer nodded along intently as you spoke, "do you think being the first female in formula 1 since 1992 also puts you a bit on the back foot?"
this. this was the type of question you were dreading. you knew what it was like to be questioned about your skills purely because you were a woman, it had been happening throughout your entire life but that didn't mean it still didn't get to you. you picked your mic back up but before you could say anything into it, george was already speaking, "i don't think thats a fair question to ask. her being a woman has nothing to do with her racing, let us not forget that she is here for a reason. y/n has an incredibly impressive resume and i'd be happy to recite it for you if you need the reminder."
*george fcking russell. the man that you are* you thought as a smirk formed on your face. "thank you george," you said managing to keep your voice steady as you continued, "i don't think being a woman puts me on the back foot at all. it's 2024 - i think we're past the point of asking questions like this. I may be the first woman in way too long to race in a grand prix but i certainly will not be the last." you put the microphone down, daring the interviewer to say something in return but instead he turned his attention back to max and kept it there for the remainder of the session which you weren't mad about at all.
✿
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ynuser: p9 baby!!!!!! i scored two points!!!! cota - thank you for the love and for an incredible first weekend in formula 1. i will never forget you 🤍
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user9: best weekend of my life!!!! first gp i’ve ever been to and i got to meet you at the fan zone!! i couldn’t have asked for more
alpinef1team: try not to say goat challenge failed
ynuser: 🤍🩷
user10: i sobbed watching you cross the line
pierregasly: points points points points
ynuser: you next bestie!!
pierregasly: we’re going to both score big this triple header i just know it
user13: i love how these two have become instant friends. i hope alpine doesn’t split my family up in abu dhabi
user44: history - we’re watching you make history
francisca.cgomes: i don’t think you understand how attached i am to you now y/n
ynuser: and i don’t think you understand how much i love you kika. legally you have to come to all the rest of the races please and thank you
francisca.cgomes: for you? done!
pierregasly: um? hello?
ynuser: im sorry p.. look away
yourbff: i have no words. i love you more than life itself
ynuser: i love you - thank you for being there
landonorris: statement MADE
ynuser: 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
georgerussell63: i’m so proud of you im about to openly weep
ynuser: we can openly weep together
carlossainz55: congrats y/n!
ynuser: thank you carlos 🤍
francolapinto: viva y/n!
ynuser: viva franco!
lewishamilton: 🤍🤍
ynuser: 🩷🩷
user15: noticing so many of the drivers here supporting her is everything
user4: and the fact that so many of them are praising her efforts and talking so highly of her in interviews 🥹
user15: everyone loves her (except for the rbr duo, did you see her and checo having words after that race?)
user4: omg yeah grandpa was pissed but honestly he’s probably just worried she’s going to take his seat
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user9: pretty, talented, smart … you’re the whole package
landonorris: hell yeah it does. the car will be here in about an hour! meet us in the lobby?
ynuser: yes!! assuming we shouldn’t come down too early since we run the risk of people being down there?
landonorris: yeah, no more than 5 mins before
user10: hottest person on the grid no doubt
georgerussell63: blimey i’m excited
ynuser: me too! i need a drink after this weekend
georgerussell63: you better get used to it y/n! this is your life now
ynuser: and i’m glad it is 🤍
user14: i think i have a crush on you
oscarpiastri: hi
ynuser: hi oscar!! did lando send you the details for tonight?
oscarpiastri: yes he did!
pierregasly: me and kika are ready to GO
ynuser: me and y/bff are too! let’s get this party started
user11: keep this momentum going into mexico y/n!!
user4: we needed a chronically online it girl in this sport so bad im so glad you’re here
✿
george poured you another glass of champagne as you giggled, "i should really be sick of champagne by now but i don't know that i ever will be."
"well thats good y/n/n! you're going to be drinking a lot more of it soon enough," george said loud enough that you could hear him over the music. the club was packed with more people than you would've expected for sunday evening especially a sunday evening in texas but here you were in a packed club chugging champagne with old and new friends. oscar, lily, carlos, rebecca, lando, george, pierre, kika, franco, charles and alex all came out with you and y/bff and you were honestly a bit shocked by the turn out. though you should've known that lando and george were not going to let you celebrate by yourself.
you had grown up with the two of them on the karting track and you even managed to be in f2 in the same year george won the championship. they meant a lot to you -- you looked up to them since the start so to have their unwavering support now that you made it to f1 meant more than you could express. none of this was going to be easy but being surrounded by a strong support system would make it a lot less painful.
you smiled up at george as he downed the last bit of his cocktail, intently watching as the last little bit dripped from the side of his mouth. you took a big gulp reminding yourself of the room of people around you. that was another thing that was around since your karting days... your massive crush on george. while you both had seen other people between now and then, there was no doubt that it was still alive and well. but as far as that was concerned, it was a bit of a one sided crush. it's not that george had ever told you outright that he wasn't interested, you just never had the guts to tell him and he only ever made one move and has been ignoring that it happened since. the closest you two ever got to something more than friends was the night after he won the f2 championship. you two were inseparable during that season so when he asked you to come with him back to his hotel room after his massive party, you didn't think twice about it. you two flopped down onto the bed with your takeaway meal fresh in front of you and the tv turned on to some animated movie you couldn't remember the name of. george was sitting close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of his body from where he gently was resting against yours. "y/n/n," he whispered causing you to look up at him, "i love you." you smiled, having heard him say this many times.. he was your best friend after all. "I love you too!" you responded and before you could process what happened, his lips were on yours. and unfortunately for you, thats about where that ended. george realized what he was doing and absolutely panicked, begged you to forgive him and to not talk about it again so thats what you did. but on nights like this one, where he was looking fine as ever... it was hard not to long for him.
"helllooooooo earth to y/n!!!" lando almost shouted pulling you out of your thoughts.
"yes, yes! hi!" you rolled your eyes taking the drink out of his hand.
the rest of the night passed in a blur of celebrations, laughs and champagne. things were looking up and you couldn't be more excited for what the future held for you. you had done it. your dream had come true.
✿
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alpinef1team: 1 down. 2 to go. mexico city, here we come!
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: omg if you made it this far... thank you for reading!!! likes and reblogs are massively appreciated. i'm thinking of making this a series with y/n racing in the last few races of the season. if you liked this, let me know so i can judge if this will get a part 2!! much love 🫶🏻
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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I was rewatching s1e3 and something finally clicked for me..
Please forgive me if this seems obvious to you. It helps me to type out my thoughts, but I'm sure I'm just an idiot and no one else needs this explained to them, lol. That said - I was always slightly confused by the emotional weight of the holy water arc during the flashback sequence. Particularly I was confused by how angry Crowley got when Aziraphale referred to their relationship as fraternizing in the 1862 fight. I mean, "to associate or form a friendship with someone, especially when one is not supposed to" is exactly what they are doing, right? So why the 80 year breakup?
Crowley says he wants the holy water for if "it" all goes pear shaped. The phrasing is necessarily vague, and could mean lots of things. Since I know what he eventually uses it for, I was thinking about it in the context of Armageddon, or maybe more generally and vaguely about Crowley not always choosing to go along with Hell, and associating with Aziraphale. But there was not much reason for Crowley to already be thinking about Armageddon back then.
As we know from the full diary entry Neil posted, the timeline of the Edinburgh entry, and the cut bookshop opening scene, it seems like Crowley and Aziraphale were spending A LOT of time together by the 1800's. When Crowley is pulled back down to Hell in 1827, he learns that Hell is paying more attention to him than he'd previously thought. Crowley realizes at this point that spending so much time with Aziraphale is actively putting him in real danger. He recognizes that, and instead of breaking things off, or seeing Aziraphale less, he doubles down. If this relationship is dangerous, then he wants the tools to fight for it.
That's what I think I didn't get about the holy water request. It's not just general insurance, it's specifically insurance for if Hell finds out about him and Aziraphale. It's also a super vulnerable request because in making it, Crowley is openly acknowledging how important their relationship is to him. Aziraphale casually brings up the arrangement at the beginning of the conversation, and that's part of it, right? Because the whole basis of their relationship is the arrangement. It continues to be the pretense under which they meet, despite the relationship clearly having developed beyond that. And the arrangement, as Crowley proposed it in 537, is born out of convenience, and the assumption that Heaven and Hell would never notice anyway.
Crowley's request for insurance breaks that facade. He's acknowledging that it's not convenient, or safe, but he wants to do it anyway, despite the risk.
Aziraphale, on the other hand, is not ready for the screen to be taken away so abruptly. To make it worse, he assumes Crowley wants the holy water as an escape, rather than a weapon. Suddenly he is confronted with both the danger their association poses, and the idea that Crowley might choose to take his own life. He can't imagine the guilt of being directly responsible for the latter.
I also think the strength of his own emotional response to the thought of losing Crowley catches Aziraphale off guard. He hasn't admitted to himself how much he actually cares, and it scares him. Worrying about Heaven is more comfortable and familiar, so he falls back on that and switches to "If they knew I'd been... fraternizing!"
But bringing up the threat of Heaven reads to Crowley as Aziraphale saying "You may be willing to put yourself at risk for the sake of our relationship, but I am not." The word choice of "fraternizing" comes off as a dismissive and demeaning way to describe a relationship that Crowley just admitted he would risk his life for.
It's an unintentionally deep cut when Crowley is already at his most vulnerable, and so he lashes out. As far as we've seen, this is possibly the first time Crowley has truly lashed out at Aziraphale. So yeah, 80 year breakup makes sense!
And what makes this so much worse is what happens next. Crowley reaches out again in 1941 with a dramatic gesture (rescuing Aziraphale from the Nazis, saving his books). It's clear they've missed each other. They don't discuss the fight, but it's there subtextually. Aziraphale, tentatively and thrillingly, refers to them as friends, for the first time ever. He tells Crowley that he trusts him.
And then, that very same night their worst fears are confirmed. Just when they've finally reconciled a fight over the dangers of their relationship, and just when Aziraphale has finally admitted that it is not a relationship of convenience, but genuine friendship, they are exposed. Crowley is going to face punishment from Hell, explicitly for being Aziraphale's "trusted confident", and he doesn't have insurance. If Aziraphale's trick hadn't succeeded, Crowley would have had no way to protect himself.
idk it just makes me feel things ok
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"I know I'm not who you wanted to spend the night with, but I am here." Alexia Putellas?
a night alone || alexia putellas x reader ||
You felt like an idiot. No matter what you did, you always seemed to fail miserably with love. Tonight hadn't even really been about finding "true love" or anything of the sort. It was supposed to be a hook up with someone you met on a dating app that Alba told you about. Even over a year after breaking things off with her sister, you and Alba were thick as thieves.
Your date had been cute, and the two of you had hooked up before. Sometime in between tonight and your last hook up, she had found out about your ex. It was wild that Alexia was still fucking things up for you after so long. You were only just getting back to Barcelona after your year-long loan to play at Roma.
A knock on your door pulled you away from the dangerous thought tangent that you were headed down. You had texted Alba about your date being a bust, but you hadn't expected for her to come and see you. "Alba, it really wasn't necessary for you to come all the way down here. It's nothing a bottle of wine and some alone time can't f-, oh Alexia."
"Alba is busy, and I know that I'm not who you wanted to spend the night with, but I am here. You shouldn't drink alone, and neither should I." Alexia held up a bottle that you recognized somewhat fondly. There had been countless nights spend on vacation that neither of you remembered much of aside from some drinks and drunken sex.
"Fine, but I'm making you sleep on the couch," you told her. Alexia looked like she wanted to argue with you on that. You stepped aside to let her in, and almost immediately, she started looking around like she was searching for something. "Benny is at my mother's for now. I'm picking him up on Saturday."
"Who is supposed to cuddle with me on the couch now? You know how I get when I drink." Alexia looked up at you with a pout. It was kind of wild how quickly she shed her 'Captain Alexia' persona with you and turned into 'Ale' the woman you had loved since you could remember.
A few shots in, and the two of you had migrated from the living room into your bedroom. You tried your best to take your makeup off and change into comfortable clothes, coming back to see Alexia in a pair of your shorts and a sports bra already asleep in your bed. You took a makeup wipe to her face and gently wiped away her makeup before you got into bed with her. It wasn't the way you had imagined getting lucky that night, but if you were being honest, you thought this was much better than that.
#answered#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso blurbs#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader
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