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queenmuzz · 14 hours ago

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A Chain Unbroken Chapter I

A link in the chain.

Read it HERE on Ao3

It’s winter time, and Emmrich wants to go out, wants to skate the frozen river, he wants to go out to play with friends. Twilight is fast approaching, but he doesn’t care. He’s eight years old, he doesn’t need his mother to go with him anymore, he’s a big boy, the dark doesn’t scare him anymore.

But he’s also a dutiful son, the only child of the Volkarin household, so when his mother tells him that he can only go out after supper, and that supper takes place only after his father returns home, he bites his tongue and completes his chores. Tend the fire, and set the table. The latter he does eagerly, the sooner his father could sit down to eat, the sooner he could go out. Hopefully his friends wouldn’t have wandered off in boredom, leaving him alone. He hated being left alone.

The former chore, keeping the hearth alight, was much less fun. It was the only thing that kept their creaky, drafty tenement house warm, but he had it drilled into him that he couldn’t just dump wood into it willy nilly, fuel was hard to come by, especially in the depths of winter. He had come to realize at an early age that his family could not afford simple things that others could. Yes, his belly was always full, and he would never lack for clothing, but he had noticed that his parents were thin, their clothing was patched and shabby. But they were happy together, with their matching set of wedding rings, the way they both told him he was destined for great things, and he could never deny that they loved him more than anything in the world.

And that’s why he did his best to use the least amount of fuel to keep the fire burning. He might not be able to bring in money, like his mother cooking, but he could help by saving a copper or two.

The door opened, bringing a gust of cold air as the tall lanky figure of Rupert Volkarin came in.

“Father!” He throws himself at the man who laughs, catches him and spins him around.

“How’s my little Emmi doin’?” He sets him down with an exaggerated groan. “Not so little now either, eh?”

“My name is Emmrich!” He pouts even as he still clings to him like a toddler. Unlike other nevarran children, he has no repulsion of the scent that permeates the man’s clothing. Yes, had heard enough from the older kids at school, the insults about his father’s profession. He really didn’t care. Sure, his father was a butcher, but that didn’t make him any worse than any father. He was just doing what he had to survive. He remembers seeing a Dalish Caravan passing through the countryside, and the way they revered the forest and trees, and yet they chopped down trees when need called for it.

“Well ‘Emmrich’,” his mother’s stern, yet loving voice comes from behind. Your father is tired, and probably wants to clean up before supper. Would you be a dear, and heat up some water in the kettle? Enough for the wash basin and to steep the tea?”

He nods as he runs over to the fireplace and shoves another log into the hearth, stoking the flames. His father walks over and embraces his mother, sweeping her in a tender kiss as they make their way up the narrow rickety stairs. He smiles at how much they adore each other. Some of his friends’ parents can’t seem to stand each other. Not his. They were so deeply in love, despite their humble situation. When he grows up, he’s going to find his special person. No matter what it takes.

He lugs the water to fill the kettle. It’s going to take a long time to heat it all up, and it’ll use up a lot of wood.

Emmrich thinks hard. He wants to go out with friends before bedtime, and he doesn’t want to use the precious fuel that his father and mother work so hard to afford. What if there was a way to…

His arm tingles, and he reaches towards the fire. He’s had dreams like this, urges to unlock something within him. That he could tap into the energies of his dreams, bring them to this world and create flames without using wood. He closes his eyes and tries to replicate the action he’s done while he slumbered.

Three things happen: An explosion of hot air, so powerful that it knocks him back across the room, into the wall.

The creak of the ceiling beam, always noisy on windy days, begins to shriek and crack..

And most alarming of all, a figure, cloaked and masked has suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The only distinguishing feature is piercing grey eyes that are locked on him.

The beam above him screams as it wrenches from its support and begins to plummet. He tries to shield himself with his arms, knowing that it will be in vain. He closes his eyes, waiting for the inevitable pain.

It never comes. Instead, he hears a grunt. He cracks his eyes open to see that figure standing over him, straining to hold the beam.

It’s hard to make out their features, aside from those grey, almost silver eyes.

“Emmrich…” their voice grunts out, clearly tiring from the effort. “The fire…put it out… it’s gonna spread.” Already flames are licking a fallen piece of plaster on the floor. He scrambles and takes the kettle of water and dumps the contents on the flames, smothering them and coating the room in darkness. Above the hiss of steam he hears the screams and protests of wood and masonry, the smash of pottery and glass. The world is literally crashing down upon him, and there is nothing he can do about it…he’s gonna die here.

He hears an anguished roar, and then arms grab him out in the darkness. More things fall as he feels himself rolling across the tilted floor. He’s reminded of the time when he got in a fight with one of the older kids at school, which led to them tumbling down a hill. Except instead of exchanging punches, this stranger holds tightly, shielding him from the impact of falling wood, plaster and brick. The sounds are terrifying to him, it’s like the world is about to end. But the mysterious stranger holds him tightly, shielding him from the worst of it.

After what seems like forever, the roar dies down to nothing, save for the pounding of his heart, and his laboured breathing. Two sets of laboured breathing.

“You alright?” There’s a voice on his right, and he turns to look, but sees nothing.

‘Oh yeah, you can’t see in the dark like me…not yet at least. One moment.” He hears the rustle of cloth, and then a snap, similar to the sound of an ember popping. A sudden blast of soft blue light illuminates the area. It takes him a few seconds to look around. They’ve managed to roll under the kitchen table, which is propped up against the wall like a tent. It gives him just enough space to move his limbs to let the blood flow moving, but little else. And there’s the other person, this mysterious cloaked figure, their eyes reflecting silver blue.

“You alright, Emmrich?”

Their voice is soft, and even through a whisper he can tell that she’s a woman, probably as old as his mother. Maybe one of her friends? But he’s never heard that voice before, even as he’s served tea when her neighbors come over to gossip. It’s hard and unyielding, but not unkind. It reminds him of his Uncle Bernard, a traveling mercenary, a voice that has seen much action.

“Fine.” He admits. Right now his heart is pounding heavily, thrumming so much blood that it still sounds like his house is collapsing around him. But she doesn’t need to know how utterly terrified he is. He’s eight years old, he’s brave and strong. He needs to distract himself.

“Who are you?”

She stills, then her eyes look to the side.

“You can call me… Rook”

“How do you know my name? I don’t remember meeting someone like you.”

She shifts uncomfortably, and those eyes dart away momentarily before returning to him. “I heard your mother call your name, something about heating up tea water.”

The thought of his mother suddenly makes him remember his parents. They’re upstairs, most likely in the bedroom. His mother is probably folding the fresh laundry, checking to see what clothes need mending, chiding his father for getting a particularly hard to clean stain out on his best shirt. He’d probably laugh and give her a kiss, and they’d forget all about the stains.

Surely they would have felt the floor collapse, and come out running… unless, the roof followed the floor and they were cru-

No, he thinks, they are searching for him right now. They wouldn’t let me stay here in the dark.

“Father?” He calls out into the dimly lit space. Nothing. “Mother?” The only response is the distant trickle of masonry.

What if they are hurt? He needs to go to them. He needs to help them. He’s not sure what he can do, but he needs to find them.

“Emmrich…” Rook's voice is soft and sad, and he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like what it implies. He feels a surge of panic flow through him.

“I NEED TO FIND THEM! I NEED TO SEE THEM!” He moves quickly, kicking at the table above them, using all his weight to try to push the table up, to heave it so he can dig his way up and out. It was twilight when the collapse, there might still be light, the green veilfire lamps would just start being lit. He would be able to navigate his way to find his parents.

“Emmrich, no… stop!” Rook tries to force him back down, but he’s full of adrenaline. He won’t let this weirdo cloaked figure stop him from finding his parents. That same prickling feeling that he felt before flows down his arm. If he willed it, he could blast that table to smithereens, he knows it.

Suddenly, something shifts and the table comes down, carrying the weight of the house on it. Faster than he would ever expect, Rook rolls over to shield him, not that it would save him, he knows. They’ll both be killed by the collapse. For a brief moment, a terror fills him.

He doesn’t want to die.

A spark lights up, a green flash lights up the area, even overpowering the blue, and the collapse stops, mere inches from Rook's back, held up by a green bubble. He gasps, both in surprise, and then in exertion as it takes all his dwindling reserves of energy to keep the bubble up. He knows that it’s the only thing keeping him from getting crushed to death.

Rook, to her credit, wastes no time, and rolls off of him, finding anything, wood, brick, stone. Anything that will prop up the table, as he gasps and sweats at the effort.

“I think… I think you can let go now…” her voice is ragged, and he’s not sure what she means, but it doesn’t matter, whatever energy he had is sapped, and the last thing he remembers is her silver eyes shifting from reflecting green to blue before everything goes dark.

He wakes up groggy, like a nap cut short. Which is odd, he HATES naps. Naps are for little kids. But this… this feels comfy. He’s surrounded by a warm fluffy blanket that smells odd. He keeps his eyes closed, hoping that he’ll drift back to sleep.

Then he hears a voice, soft and gentle, speaking, her voice murmuring something as if it was a recitation.

“Let them be found worthy to pass through the veil,

Let them go into the Fade, hand in hand,

Free of trouble.

Free of pain

And let their memory endure in those that yet live”

It sounds solemn, and sad… he’s heard it before, but he can’t remember where exactly where or when.

He opens his eyes, expecting to see the wooden beams of his small bedroom ceiling, but instead, he sees, mere inches from his head, an unfamiliar wooden panel lit not by the warm light of the rising sun, nor of the green veilfire of the lamp outside his window. This is blue. He’s confused, and then feels the blanket moves on its own, a sharp intake of breath.

The past rushes back towards him, and his heart races.

“How long?” he croaks, his throat feels scratchy and dry, like cracked plaster.

“You’ve been asleep for probably a good six or so hours,” Rook’s voice explains as she pulls away from him. Was she holding him as he slept? He feels the chill seep into his bones almost immediately, and he longs for her to hold him again. It’s oddly comforting, considering he doesn’t know her at all.

“My parents-” he tries to talk, but he can’t, his throat feels so dry, he coughs, and Rook rustles around something in her cloak, and pulls out a squarish thing.

The sound of a lid being unscrewed, and her voice, equally raspy, orders him, “Take a sip. But only a small sip.”

He obeys, and feels some liquid that drips down his throat. It burns, causing him to cough, but there's a comforting hand on his shoulder, and her silver blue eyes regard him sympathetically. “Sorry, it’s just Anderfel Brandy. Not really the stuff a kid should be drinking, but it should be enough to wet your lips.” She’s right, that after the scorching heat burns his throat, it feels better, like a freshly plowed field that has the first shoots of wheat popping out.

“My parents,” he repeats, and she freezes just as she’s about to take a sip, “They haven’t come for me yet?”

She decides to forgo taking a swig, and screws the top before placing it in her cloak. “Emmrich…” she takes a soft intake of breath, before she looks him in the eye. “Your parents aren’t coming.”

That makes no sense, his parents would never abandon him. Surely his father is going through the ruins of their hours, screaming his name as he pulls the building apart brick by brick. His mother would be pushing aside old furniture, working her fingers bloody to scrabble her way to him. Unless… what Rook means is… no… she couldn’t mean that?

“You could find them!” he says hopefully, before clarifying, “You’re strong, I saw you hold up that beam! You can dig your way out of here! You can find them! You can…”

Rook's eyes look sad, and shakes her head. “I can’t…” Her voice is a strangled whisper. “Even if I was strong enough to move mountains, there’s no way I could bring them back…”

The way she says it, he can read between the lines. And the chill that was settling in now freezes the marrow in his bones.

“No…” he gives out a strangled denial, “they can’t be… can’t be…” the word goes unsaid, but it echoes in the air, bouncing off the bricks, the wood, the shattered pottery, the scattered knives his father uses as part of his despised profession.

Dead

He can’t breathe. His heart is beating so fast it feels like it's going to burst. His fingers are beginning to go numb, and he’s not sure if it's because of the cold. His parents are gone, beyond the reach of anyone, and he’s stuck here, in this cramped area with some stranger he can’t even see the face of, with his parents above him, their bodies crushed to…

“I can’t- I can’t-” he tries to tell Rook, but what air leaves his lungs is not replaced, and his whole body is now numb and cold. Maybe he’s dead already. Maybe he’s been squashed like a tomato by the house, and he doesn’t know it yet.

Maybe Rook is the Guide that Nevarrans talk about, the one who guides souls across the Veil, into the Fade. They’re supposed to be a cloaked masked figure that often travels on a black horse. It’s supposed to be comforting, to know in your final moments, you’re not alone. But to Emmrich, it's terrifying. He doesn’t want his parents to die. He doesn’t want to die. Not here, in the dark and the cramped space.

He doesn’t want to know that he did something that killed them all…

“Emmrich,” Rook's voice intrudes into his spiraling thoughts, and he feels warmth on his shoulder. “May I hold you…?” He nods numbly, and he feels warmth and feeling seep back into his body as she pulls him towards her, an embrace that is comforting and oddly familiar. It’s not the tight strong hugs his father gives him, or the soft encompassing hugs his mother gives, but he swears he’s felt it before… or maybe he WILL feel it. Which makes no sense. How can he know a sensation he won’t experience until the future? The weirdness of it all partially breaks the spiral of panic he’s been stuck in, and he’s able to take a gasping breath.

“Breathe with me,” she tells him, and he complies. “One breath in… hold it in…3…2…1, let it out. Breathe in again… hold… 3…2…1, let it out…”

They complete the cycle a dozen or so times, each one becoming easier. He can feel her heartbeat reverberating on his chest, fast but steady, and his heartbeat begins to match hers. He can’t help but clutch her cloak, and he feels something hard and cold in the fabric.

“Ah…she says,” and pulls away for a brief moment, after she thinks he’s calmer, and he hears a metallic ‘ clink’ . She shows what he found.

It’s a beautiful golden brooch. The shape of a grinning skull, with gems in its eyes that match Rook’s eye colour exactly. He’s entranced by it, the coolness of the metal that quickly warms at his touch, the sparkle that sends out out dazzling sparks of blue silver into the little cramped space, and for a brief moment, he thinks he’s laying out with his father on the roof of his home one summer night, looking up at the stars.

“You know,” Rook says as he plays with it. “It’s brought me great comfort when I was in trouble, just holding it kept me calm. Maybe…” she says with some effort, “maybe it’s time it helped you.”

His head snaps up. Surely she can’t be serious. He might not know much about how money works, but this brooch would probably cost more than his father earned in a year! And she just wants to give it to him?

“No..I can’t…” he tries to shove it back to her, but she is insistent.

“Keep it, Emmrich…Please” Her voice is sad, and so desperate, that he feels compelled. And as he nods at her, her eyes seem to sparkle like the gems in the skull.

Suddenly, there’s a pop, and the blue light goes out, the twinkling stars vanishing with it. A great cold darkness sweeps in.

He hears her mutter something, possibly a swear word as she seems pats down a pouch at her waist. ��Spirits consume me! I don’t have any more Lyrium tablets…”

He can’t see anything now, and that panic that lay slumbering roars back to the surface. He’s going to die here, forgotten and alone. This place will be a tomb for him and his family. There will be no one to remember him. No one to perform the rites to send him and his parents into the Fade. His breathing becomes ragged and his heart begins picking up speed. He feels cold and clammy. His hands become numb, save for his left palm, which clutches the skull, and as he feels the texture, he swears it exudes a warmth from within. He tries to focus on it, that as long as he can feel it, it means he’s still alive.

Breath in… hold it in…3…2…1… let it out…

He’s not sure if she’s telling him to do that, or if he’s doing it on his own. All he knows is that she holds him tightly, curling her body around him, enveloping him with her softness and warmth/

“You will live, Emmrich, I swear it…” she whispers in his ear, her oath as certain as if it was written in Nevarran granite. “You will do great things. You will face almost insurmountable hurdles, and you will clamber over them. It will be hard, but you won’t be alone, even when you feel like you are. And I…” she stops herself. He tries to look up at where she is, tries to make out those silver grey eyes, and for a brief moment, he swears he can see them.

‘And I… ‘ what did she want to say? Why couldn’t she say it?

“Would you like to hear a story?”

He’s far too old for stories, but right now, aside from her embrace and the little brooch, her voice is the only thing that keeps him from panicking. He nods, and despite it being pitch black, she somehow can see him, because she starts talking.

“So, there was this group of people that joined to save the world…”

He dozes in and out while she tells the story. It’s not that it’s a boring story, far from it. But her voice is so entrancing, it lulls him to sleep. He suspects that was her intention. Every minute he sleeps, he’s conserving energy, he’s not panicking, he’s a minute closer to rescue. But he remembers snatches. There’s dragons, and a hero who hunts them. (He’s Nevarran, he can’t help but be entranced by stories about dragons.) The hero also can breathe fire. (Okay, now the story is not true. Dragons might have been gone for a long time, but at least they existed). There’s an Antivan Crow, who is possessed by a spirit of Determination that’s been tormented until it changed its nature. (That’s just silly, only mages can be possessed, and almost all of them turn into monsters) There’s a brave grey warden with his Griffon, a dwarf who can cast magic (now he’s getting insulted about this story. Everyone knows Dwarves can’t use magic!) An elf that can make old machines move on their very own, and a brave woman from Tevinter that uses her magic to help slaves escape their cruel masters. He doesn’t really hear about what happens, but he seems to think there’s a hole in the story, characters that don’t get mentioned but play a very important part. He doesn’t mind. He feels safe and warm in her arms.

She’s talking about a dragon that attacks Treviso, when she stops suddenly.

“Listen!” She hisses, and his ears prick up at the sounds of thumps, and is that… voices? Yes! There’s voices, muffled, but they are distinct, at least three of them.

“HEY! DOWN HERE! HELP US!” he yells, and resists the urge to kick at the table. It would be very unfortunate for him to get crushed when help is so close.

For a moment, there is silence. He panics, maybe he scared them off. Maybe they’re looters that fled. And then the thumps and voices increase volume and speed. He can even make out a few phrases

“I’m tellin’ you Lukas, I swore I heard a voice!”

“You’re probably drunk again…there’s no way anybody would be alive for so long down here!”

“I’M HERE!” he screams at the top of his lungs, “I’M NOT DEAD!” Another spell of silence!

“Caspar’s Bones! That’s Rupert’s boy! Keep diggin’ lads! Lukas, get your old lady over here with some blankets, and some of her soup. We’ve got a live one!” The thumping continues, and he can make out the sounds of grunts as masonry is chucked.

And then the darkness is dispelled by a hole, the size of his fist lets in the early morning sunlight. He scrabbles out of Rook’s arms, and presses his face against the hole, breathing fresh cold air.

There’s a gasp from the two men pulling the rubble away, he recognizes them as a couple of his neighbors.

“Emmrich? You alright lad?”

“YES, I WANT TO GET OUT OF HERE!” He’s on the cusp of tears, but not panicking. After everything, he just wants out.

“Patience lad…” the older one of the two. “We dig any more, we’re liable to have this whole thing crashing down on you and I. Give us a bit to get more people to help. Don’t worry, we ain’t about to abandon you,” his face grows sombre, “I owe your parents that much, at least.” The man disappears and there’s silence for the moment.

Emmrich doesn’t quite get what he means, but he’s waited hours so far, he can wait a bit longer.

“Rook!” He turns around to see her, “You were right! We’re gonna get out of here! We’re gonna li-” There’s something off about her, she seems to be glowing… like sparkles from the gems in the skull are within her.

“You’re right. You’re going to live. You’re going to survive. But…” she looks at her gloved hand, which he swears is see through, like a sheer curtain. “You’re going to have to do it without me… Her eyes glitter, but not because they are gems, it looks like she’s about to cry. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to me… but knowing that you’re alive makes it worth it…” She pulls him in close, as if to give him a hug.

Impulse takes over, and he grabs her mask off, revealing her face. He needs to see what she looks like, even for just a moment. Maybe he’ll recognize her! She reacts by yanking back, her hood falling off from the sudden motion, and he gasps. It’s not a face he’s ever seen before. It’s pale and silver strands of hair frame it. She looks… beautiful. Like a princess from one of those fairytales where the chevalier fights a dragon. Except, in her tale, she’s the princess braving the flames to slay the beast. He takes in every feature, from the tiny scar above her left eyebrow, to the dimple in her cheek. The way her hair shimmers like moonlight. He’s going to remember every little bit of her, he’s going to treasure it. And if she disappears, he’s going to find her.

“Oh Emmrich…” she says and there’s something in her voice, a sense of love and longing that is different from what he’s experienced from his parents.. She pulls him in one more time to hold him, and then he feels the oddest feeling on his forehead. It takes him to realize it's her lips giving him a gentle kiss. “We’ll meet again, I promise.”

And then a gust of winter wind blows through the hole, and she’s gone.

He doesn’t really remember much afterwards. Multiple hands grabbing rubble, yells to prop up stuff, the hole getting larger and larger, until it's big enough for him to scrabble through. There’s cheers, blankets, and a cup of hot soup thrust into his hands. It doesn’t taste half as good as his mother’s… speaking of which… he asks where his parents are, and no one says anything, won’t look him in the face.

That’s when he finds out he’s alone.

Uncle Bernard never shows up for the funeral, never comes to claim his nephew, and when his magic shows up a few months later, he’s promptly shipped off to the Circle. And when it is found out that he has a very particular set of magic skills, he gets shipped off again, this time to the Mourn Watch. The place terrifies him, these reminders of death, and it keeps him awake at night, awoken by nightmares of being crushed under the accusing bodies of his parents, blaming him for their deaths. And every time he wakes up in terror, he forces himself to calm down, he uses two familiar techniques.

Breath in… hold it in…3…2…1… let it out…

With a shaky hand he pulls out the golden skull, his greatest treasure, from his breast pocket, and strokes it, while he calms down and settles back to dreamless sleep.

Rook is an ever present thought in his mind. He searches census tomes the moment he has access, but comes up empty handed. He travels the Fade in his dreams working on a hunch that perhaps she was a Spirit. What type, he can’t say, her beauty transcends anything the Fade could offer. Nothing. He does find a Curiosity wisp that follows him around while he dreams, even deciding to cross the Veil to accompany him.

He makes friends with colleagues, including a brilliant but ethically challenged student. He falls in love. He falls out of love. His friendships cool, and he finds out about a way he can banish the fears of death, permanently. The path is long and arduous, but he is certain he can accomplish his dream.

He’s in his mid 20’s when he hears about a living newborn infant found by the undead in the long extinct Ingellvar family crypt. This curious fact, that the spirits inhabiting the undead were able to identify the infant, knew that the baby was in a precarious state without a living being to take care of her, and delivered the child to Vorgoth for safety, all on their own. It makes him wonder if he can create an undead that is able to learn and act independently .

He's getting tired. He’s getting old. He’s getting lonely. His best friend is gone, banished for pushing too far in her discoveries. His Curiosity wisp now has a body of his own, but it’s not quite enough for Emmrich. All that he can look forward to is taking that final, possibly fatal, step to Lichdom. Ironically, his fear of death is the reason he hasn’t crossed that last threshold. That and Rook… he still wants to find her.

He receives a letter from Myrna, stating that his knowledge is required for an urgent matter, that one of his long distance colleagues, a lovely elvish lady named Bellara will be coming to visit. He’s delighted, as she is full of curiosity and her intelligence for her young age astounds him.

‘Mourn Watcher Zea Ingellvar will be accompanying her as an escort’ Myrna adds in a postscript, ‘Due to the urgent matter Bellara will speak to you of, Ingellvar has been given limited privileges to return to the Necropolis. Please do not hold her previous actions against her’

He wasn’t planning to. Her actions in the War of the Banners were heroic and saved countless lives, and he’s always thought it was a travesty of justice to exile her, even if he’s never met her. He’s always admired people who thumb their noses at the living nobility. It’s why he and Hezenkoss got along so well before her expulsion.

Bellara is just as lovely and polite as he imagined, shaking his hand excitedly as her eyes glow with admiration.

“It’s an honour to finally meet you in person, Professor.”

“Please…” he insists, “Just call me Emmrich.” He has a sneaking suspicion he’ll have to remind her that multiple times.

“Oh," she jumps as if she just remembered something she has forgotten, "I should introduce my friend. Not sure if you’ve met, this is Zea Ingellvar”

His heart stops. That dimple. That small scar above her left eyebrow, the silver hair that shimmers like moonlight. The silver eyes that match the exact colour of the gems in the skull he keeps close to his heart. All this time, she’s been here, under his very nose.

“Charmed.” She greets him, the same voice that lulled him to sleep over forty years ago, “But you can call me Rook.”

After all this time, he’s finally found her.

#dragon age the veilguard #veilguard spoilers #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #emmrook #my writing

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sarcasticdolphin · 10 months ago

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#Adding to the fic idea list #which is already too long but anyway #I was thinking about dark souls #specifically Ornstein #and idk I kind of want to write a #Nameless King/Fem!Ornstein #fic of some sort #it would be set before the linking of the flame #just lots of sparing #Gwynsen totally having the hots for Ornstein #when they spar #he's the god of war after all #and probably nothing gets his attention more than the first time #some random knight of his father's beats him #then they go dragonslaying #and get very close #leading to some sort of conflict #b/c Gwyn wants his children to marry #each other a la Greek Gods #and he wants his knight to serve him #idk #the idea is both quite vague and oddly specific #like on the one hand I want Gwyn and Ornstein saying some prayers for Gwyn #then some prayers for Gwyn's wife #then some for Gwynevere #then when it is time for Ornstein to pray to Gwynsen #instead of the normal way of praying #kneeling at his feet or something #Gwynsen has her in his lap #just close as can be

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mostlysignssomeportents · 25 days ago

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Happy Public Domain Day 2025 to all who celebrate

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/17/dastar-dly-deeds/#roast-in-piss-sonny-bono

In 1976, Congress set fire to the country's libraries; in 1998, they did it again. Today, in 2024, the flames have died down, and out of the ashes a new public domain is growing. Happy Public Domain Day 2025 to all who celebrate!

For most of US history, copyright was something you had to ask for. To copyright a work, you'd send a copy to the Library of Congress and they'd issue you a copyright. Not only did that let you display a copyright mark on your work – so people would know they weren't allowed to copy it without your permission – but if anyone wanted to figure out who to ask in order to get permission to copy or adapt a work, they could just go look up the paperwork at the LoC.

In 1976, Congress amended the Copyright Act to eliminate the "formality" of copyright registration. Now, all creative works of human authorship were copyrighted "at the moment of fixation" – the instant you drew, typed, wrote, filmed, or recorded them. From a toddler's nursery-school finger-painting to a graffiti mural on a subway car, every creative act suddenly became an article of property.

But whose property? That was on you to figure out, before you could copy, publish, perform, or preserve the work, because without registration, permissions had to start with a scavenger hunt for the person who could grant it. Congress simultaneously enacted a massive expansion of property rights, while abolishing the title registry that spelled out who owned what. As though this wasn't enough, Congress reached back in time and plopped an extra 20 years' onto the copyrights of existing works, even ones whose authors were unknown and unlocatable.

For the next 20 years, creative workers, archivists, educators and fans struggled in the face of this regime of unknowable property rights. After decades of well-documented problems, Congress acted again: they made it worse.

In 1998, Congress passed the Sonny Bono Copyright Act, AKA the Mickey Mouse Preservation Act, AKA the Copyright Term Extension Act. The 1998 Act tacked another 20 years onto copyright terms, but not just for works that were still in copyright. At the insistence of Disney, Congress actually yanked works out of the public domain – works that had been anthologized, adapted and re-issued – and put them back into copyright for two more decades. Copyright stretched to the century-plus "life plus 70 years" term. Nothing entered the public domain for the next 20 years.

So many of my comrades in the fight for the public domain were certain that this would happen again in 2018. In 2010, e-book inventor and Project Gutenberg founder Michael S Hart and I got into a friendly email argument because he was positive that in 2018, Congress would set fire to the public domain again. When I insisted that there was no way this could happen given the public bitterness over the 1998 Act, he told me I was being naive, but said he hoped that I was right.

Michael didn't live to see it, but in 2019, the public domain opened again. It was an incredible day:

https://archive.org/details/ClosingKeynoteForGrandReopeningOfThePublicDomainCoryDoctorowAtInternetArchive

No one has done a better job of chronicling the fortunes of our fragile, beautiful, bounteous public domain than Jennifer Jenkins and James Boyle of Duke University's Center for the Study of the Public Domain. Every year from 2010-2019, Boyle and Jenkins chronicled the works that weren't entering the public domain because of the 1998 Act, making sure we knew what had been stolen from our cultural commons. In so many cases, these works disappeared before their copyrights expired, for example, the majority of silent films are lost forever.

Then, in 2019, Jenkins and Boyle got to start cataloging the works that were entering the public domain, most of them from 1923 (copyright is complicated, so not everything that entered the public domain in 2019 was from that year):

https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/publicdomainday/2019/

Every year since, they've celebrated a new bumper crop. Last year, we got Mickey Mouse!

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/15/mouse-liberation-front/#free-mickey

In addition to numerous other works – by Woolf, Hemingway, Doyle, Christie, Proust, Hesse, Milne, DuBois, Frost, Chaplin, Escher, and more:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/20/em-oh-you-ess-ee/#sexytimes

Now, 2024 was a fantastic year for the public domain, but – as you'll see in the 2025 edition of the Public Domain Day post – 2025 is even better:

https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/publicdomainday/2025/

So what's entering the public domain this year? Well, for one thing, there's more of the stuff from last year, which makes sense: if Hemingway's first books entered the PD last year, then this year, we'll the books he wrote next (and this will continue every year until we catch up with Hemingway's tragic death).

There are some big hits from our returning champions, like Woolf's To the Lighthouse and A Farewell to Arms from Hemingway. Jenkins and Boyle call particular attention to one book: Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury, its title taken from a public domain work by Shakespeare. As they write, Faulkner spoke eloquently about the nature of posterity and culture:

[Humanity] is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance…The poet’s voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail.

The main attraction on last year's Public Domain Day was the entry of Steamboat Willie – the first Mickey Mouse cartoon – into the public domain. This year, we're getting a dozen new Mickey cartoons, including the first Mickey talkie:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mickey_Mouse_(film_series)#1929

Those 12 shorts represent a kind of creative explosion for the Disney Studios. Those early Mickey cartoons were, each and every one, a hybrid of new copyrighted works and the public domain. The backbone of each Mickey short was a beloved, public domain song, with Mickey's motion synched to the beat (animators came to call this "mickey mousing"). In 1929, there was a huge crop of public domain music that anyone could use this way:

Blue Danube, Pop Goes the Weasel, Yankee Doodle, Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush, Ach Du Lieber Augustin, Listen to the Mocking Bird, A-Hunting We Will Go, Dixie, The Girl I Left Behind Me, a tune known as the snake charmer song, Coming Thru the Rye, Mary Had a Little Lamb, Auld Lang Syne, Aloha ‘Oe, Turkey in the Straw, My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean, Habanera and Toreador Song from Carmen, Lizst’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2, and Goodnight, Ladies.

These were recent compositions, songs that were written and popularized in the lifetimes of the parents and grandparents who took their kids to the movies to see Mickey shorts like "The Barn Dance," "The Opry House" and "The Jazz Fool." The ability to plunder this music at will was key to the success of Mickey Mouse and Disney. Think of all the Mickeys and Disneys we've lost by locking up the public domain for the past half-century!

This year, we're getting some outstanding new old music for our public domain. The complexities of copyright terms mean that compositions from 1929 are entering the public domain, but we're only getting recordings from 1924. 1924's outstanding recordings include:

George Gershwin performing Rhapsody in Blue, Jelly Roll Morton playing Shreveport Stomp, and an early recording from contralto and civil rights icon Marian Anderson, who is famous for her 1939 performance to an integrated audience of over 75,000 people at the Lincoln Memorial. Anderson’s 1924 recording is of the spiritual Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen.

While the compositions include Singin' in the Rain, Ain't Misbehavin', An American in Paris, Bolero, (What Did I Do to Be So) Black and Blue, Tiptoe Through the Tulips, Happy Days Are Here Again, What Is This Thing Called, Love?, Am I Blue? and many, many more.

On the art front, we're getting Salvador Dali's earliest surrealist masterpieces, like Illumined Pleasures, The Accommodations of Desire, and The Great Masturbator. Dali's contemporaries are not so lucky: after a century, the early history of the works of Magritte are so muddy that it's impossible to say whether they are in or out of copyright.

But there's plenty of art with clearer provenance that we can welcome into the public domain this year, most notably, Popeye and Tintin. As the first Popeye and Tintin comics go PD, so too do those characters.

The idea that a fictional character can have a copyright separate from the stories they appear in is relatively new, and it's weird and very stupid. Courts have found that the Batmobile is a copyrightable character (Batman won't enter the public domain until 2035).

Copyright for characters is such a muddy, gross, weird idea. The clearest example of how stupid this gets comes from Sherlock Holmes, whose canon spans many years. The Doyle estate – a rent-seeking copyright troll – claimed that Holmes wouldn't enter the public domain until every Holmes story was in the public domain (that's this year, incidentally!).

This didn't fly, so their next gambit was to claim copyright over those aspects of Holmes's character that were developed later in the stories. For example, they claimed that Holmes didn't show compassion until the later stories, and, on that basis, sued the creators of the Enola Holmes TV show for depicting a gender-swapped Sherlock who wasn't a total dick:

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2020/dec/22/lawsuit-copyright-warmer-sherlock-holmes-dismissed-enola-holmes

As the Enola lawyers pointed out in their briefs, this was tantamount to a copyright over emotions: "Copyright law does not allow the ownership of generic concepts like warmth, kindness, empathy, or respect, even as expressed by a public domain character – which, of course, belongs to the public, not plaintiff."

When Mickey entered the public domain last year, Jenkins did an excellent deep dive into which aspects of Mickey's character and design emerged when:

https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/mickey/

Jenkins uses this year's entry of Tintin and Popeye into the public domain to further explore the subject of proprietary characters.

Even though copyright extends to characters, it only covers the "copyrightable" parts of those characters. As the Enola lawyers wrote, the generic character traits (their age, emotional vibe, etc) are not protected. Neither is anything "trivial" or "minuscule" – for example, if a cartoonist makes a minor alteration to the way a character's pupils or eyes are drawn, that's a minor detail, not a copyrightable element.

The biggest impediment to using public domain characters isn't copyright, it's trademark. Trademark is very different from copyright: foundationally, trademark is the right to protect your customers from being deceived by your competitors. Coke can use trademark to stop Pepsi from selling its sugary drinks in Coke cans – not because it owns the word "Coke" or the Coke logo, but because it has been deputized to protect Coke drinkers from being tricked into buying not-Coke, thinking that they're getting the true Black Waters of American Imperialism.

Companies claim trademarks over cartoon characters all the time, and license those trademarks on food, clothing, toys, and more (remember Popeye candy cigarettes?).

Indeed, Hearst Holdings claims a trademark over Popeye in many traditional categories, like cartoons, amusement parks, ads and clothes. They're also in the midst of applying for a Popeye NFT trademark (lol).

Does that mean you can't use Popeye in any of those ways? Nope! All you need to do is prominently mention that your use of Popeye is unofficial, not associated with Hearst, and dispel any chance of confusion. A unanimous Supreme Court decision (in Dastar) affirm your right to do so. You can also use Popeye in the title of your unauthorized Popeye comic, thanks to a case called Rogers v Grimaldi.

This all applies to Tintin, too – a big deal, given that Tintin is managed by a notorious copyright bully who delights in cruelly terrorizing fan artists. Tintin is joined in the public domain by Buck Rogers, another old-timey character whose owners are scumbag rent-seekers.

Congress buried the public domain alive in 1976, and dumped a load of gravel over its grave in 1998, but miraculously, we've managed to exhume the PD, and it has been revived and is showing signs of rude health.

2024 saw the blockbuster film adaptation of Wicked, based on the public domain Oz books. It also saw the publication of James, a celebrated retelling of Twain's Huck Finn from the perspective of Huck's enslaved sidekick.

This is completely normal. It's how art was made since time immemorial. The 40 year experiment in life without a public domain is at an end, and not a minute too soon.

You can piece together a complete-as-possible list of 2025's public domain (including the Marx Brothers' Cocoanuts, Disney's Skeleton Dance, and Del Ruth's Gold Diggers of Broadway) here:

https://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/cce/

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0mg-bird · 2 months ago

Text

Bombshell of the BAU

Early season Spencer Reid x Fem! Agent! Reader

Summary: New to the team, the others can’t help but be drawn to you…well, not in the way Spencer Reid is.

Warnings: heavy flirting, 18+ content, smut, fem receiving oral sex, teasing, mentions of guns.

Part two is on my page but link doesn’t work to get to it

The only reason why the BAU works so well at their job is because of the simple fact that not one member is alike. Their differences are advantages, all different mindsets that help work cases.

Spencer knows that his team isn’t alike…

But no one is quite like you.

He’s no stranger to strong woman agents, he seen that spark in Elle, in JJ, he’s come to see it in Emily, but here you were with more than a spark. You had a flame, compared to the other women.

Crushes are so high school, so he’s not going to label this fascination as that. Maybe he was slowly losing his mind? He knew it would happen eventually, but he hadn’t expected his decay to be at the perfectly manicured hands of a new agent that transferred from another branch of the bureau.

Hotch told his agents not to ask too many questions because you weren’t supposed to disclose too much information about where exactly you came from. In that, he set you up for allegations.

Morgan was the most creative, he came to a conclusion that you came straight from the White House, that you were a right hand man for the secret service and were in Witsec for awhile because of it. Emily made a joke that maybe you were a Russian spy and he took it literally, vowed to never fully trust you.

That was before he officially met you.

One bat of your eyelashes and a cunning smile tossed his way, he practically laid down and rolled over like a dog.

The team had similar reactions, and that’s because you were so enticing, so genuine, so easy to jive with. And you did your job well, really well.

You looked good doing it too.

That’s a thought Spencer kept to himself. To him, you had everyone reminding you of that fact, so why should he be one more person?

Really, you scared him, so he thought that if he just kept his distance, you wouldn’t eat him alive.

He might enjoy that, though.

While he was busy creating a bubble of friendly distance, you were busy placing yourself inside said bubble.

Now, Morgan was fun. He matched your flirtatious energy, he always had a come back because he was just that kind of guy. Nights out at bars with the team, he was fun to dance with, he was easy to be so fluid with because he knew this whole attitude of yours didn’t mean anything.

Derek Morgan was great.

But Spencer Reid? In your eyes, he was perfect.

You can’t necessarily put your finger on it, maybe it was just everything he put off. He was dorky and sweet and funny, he was a bashful kind of handsome. The best part of him being gorgeous was the fact he didn’t have a clue. All these guys have egos that ruin it, but not your Reid. No, he just spews facts like he’s a fucking search engine and it could practically be used as foreplay.

Maybe it’s a flaw, because he looks at you with those brown eyes and it’s like your hard attitude crumbles. Call it some corruption kink, but the way he quickly looks away when you catch him looking, or how he gains a stutter and goes red when you give him your attention, it makes you want to paint a permanent smile on your face.

No, it’s not a kink, you don’t want to ruin him. You want him to stay this perfect. You’d never do anything he wasn’t okay with, if he told you that your flirting made him uncomfortable, you’d probably stop speaking entirely.

Your whole persona would be compromised if anyone knew of this submission.

And the great thing about this whole situation was that Spencer wouldn’t say one single word you didn’t like. Mostly because he didn’t say many words you wanted him to say, but after a few months of this cat and mouse game, he’s getting better at it.

You selfishly think it’s all because you’re skillfully crafting him, making improvements to his perfectness.

Spencer sits down at his desk with his coffee mug, and waits.

You always arrive eleven minutes after the last team member does, which usually is Morgan, who thought he’d forever hold the title of fashionably late. Spencer doesn’t even have to watch the door, he knows the signs when you’ve entered the bullpen.

Heads turn, murmurs follow. He can hear the click of whatever form of heels you have on, and when you enter his atmosphere, his senses are filled with you. The perfume you wear is expensive and distinctive.

Yves Saint Laurent, he’s come to know.

“Good morning, handsome.”

Ah, there you are.

He looks over at you with a smile, watching as you set your purse and go bag down and then come to lean against his desk. He hands you your mug of coffee he took the liberty of making, and you gasp in delight.

“You’re too good to me, Spencey.” You declare, making him scrunch his nose at the silly nickname you insist on using.

You take a drink, then set it back down. He looks at the print of your lipstick on the mug, then down at your heels. His eyes gracefully float up your legs, taking note of your smooth stockings that disappear under your appropriate skirt length, then up to your blouse and shoulder holster where your gun resides. Finally, he meets your face, enticing eyes, thick lashes, a gleam in your smile.

“I like when you wear blue.” You playfully hum, brushing your hand over his shoulder, feeling the material of his shirt.

His heart beats wonky.

He’s come to learn that you have this OCD tic of sorts, it’s a habit he’s noticed. You make sure that things are prim and proper. You’re the first to fix Emily’s hair, you clean up the edges of JJ’s lipgloss if it gets messy. You sweep dust or lint off the back of Morgan’s shirts and you have to fight the urge to fix Hotch’s cufflinks because he hates being prodded at. You might come off as vain, the way you check your appearance when others don’t, but in all actuality, it’s just to soothe nerves.

Reid’s guess is you had a mother who was adamant about things being proper.

Whatever it may be, he can tell it irritates you when you can’t control the urge. It’s a bad thing to have when you look at crime scenes every day and can’t clean things up or make things perfect.

It has to be stressful, and that’s why it does not bother him when you poke and prod and adjust him. You adjust his glasses, then ask him if his contacts got messed up again. You place his hair perfectly, in a way that always makes him look the best, then nudge your finger under his chin and decide your work is done.

Often times he goes into a spiral, wondering why him. You have all these guys who’d become fools for you, why must he? He always comes to the same conclusion. You aren’t forcing him to do anything, but it’s your fault. You give him the attention he can’t admit he’s craved, you have a big heart that you don’t like others to see right away, you have a beautiful mind that others don’t appreciate. They see a pretty face and a great body and fail to appreciate your knowledge, and Spencer thinks that’s a shame.

It’s your fault that you’re this great and he could probably just lay down and let you walk right over him.

He’s dealing with these confusing feelings while you go and have every man in the bullpen wrapped around your finger. Everyone knows the rule, bureau members aren’t supposed to have romantic relations with each other, but he’s constantly trying to find loopholes like he has the guts to confess to you.

He can’t do that, so he settles for being the subject to your witty remarks.

In the round table room, JJ briefs the team on the reason why they are heading to L.A.

You sit with your legs crossed, scanning the case file. The Unsub was particularly brutal, they alway are, but the murder of three teenagers? And one that’s still missing?

It’s brutal.

It makes you rethink your choice wording when you go to claim the jet ride as such.

You sit at the window section , across from Spencer, leaning onto the table where he plays cards by himself. Propped up by your elbows, you lazily watch him as your source of entertainment.

He knows you’re staring.

Of course he does, he could be in a room full of people and find your gaze in a single second. Though he plays it cool, he has a sort of twitch about him. Often times he feels as if he’s being dissected under your careful eye, not saying you do it on purpose, but it’s how he imagines prey feels when it’s being stalked.

No, that’s too harsh of a comparison.

You’re not looking to maim, you’re just…memorizing his outline.

A perfectly normal thing to do with colleagues.

He flicks his eyes up from the cards in hand, catching you.

“Can I help you with something?” He asks, brows lifted but without amusement.

You smirk. “You could help me with a lot of things, baby.”

Logically, his mind tells him that you’re just being your teasing self, playing the Morgan and Garcia game.

Emotionally? He’s internally groaning at how much he likes you saying those things.

That pout on your lips doesn’t help, his mind is filled with visions of touching you softly.

“I’m bored, Reid.” You practically whine.

He simply deals you cards without another word.

There was often duos in the team. Morgan and Garcia, Hotch and Rossi, Prentiss and JJ.

And you and Reid.

It was satisfying in that way, knowing you weren’t an outsider to the team anymore because you had your lover boy, your crime fighting partner. And in that, Spencer and you had a dynamic that sometimes didn’t need many words.

You waist time playing go fish and other childish things, then when the boredom strikes again, you throw the cards down and huff.

“What now?”

Angel. Is what he wants to add to the end of that question.

“You’re doing a pretty bad job at entertaining me.” You declare, tracing shapes onto the table top with your nail.

“Didn’t realize that was in my job description now.” He laughs, which makes you grin.

Because when Spencer’s happy, you’re elated. Odd, how it works that way.

“Should’ve read the fine print, stud.” You banter, squinting your eyes before smirking and pulling a piece of gum out from your purse.

You offer some to the man who’s trying not to focus on the way you chew slowly. Truly, he isn’t bored, how could he be bored when he has the view of you in front of him.

Fluffing your hand through the roots of your hair, he starts speaking off facts like he normally does when he finds a connection.

“Did you know that the topic of oral fixation is a popular discussion point in the psychology community? There has never been a percentage done of how many adults have an oral fixation, but it’s not something that you normally come by. Actually, it starts as a child, during the months when your mouth is your stimulant. It’s how you get nutrients, it’s your first tool, so if you’re not given that stimulation you need, the somewhat teething behavior lingers in your adult years.” He explains dutifully like you asked about it, and normally he wouldn’t get this far in a one sided discussion because someone would always stop him.

Not you, you love when he “talks dirty” to you, as you call it.

Chewing your gum, you hum, slipping your finger over the surface of the table and onto his hand, continuing to draw you invisible shapes.

“So you don’t want a stick of gum?” You ask, though he doesn’t answer, just continues to go the long way around a point he’s trying to make.

“Usually it’s more serious, but it often can appear in moments of boredom or nervousness. You chew gum when there’s nothing else to do because it’s an action that makes you focus on something. You have a fresh manicure, but you usually toy with your fingers in your mouth when you do paper work, you suck on pen caps because it’s comforting. That shows that during your infant months, you probably weren’t given the proper care, a formula baby who probably was weaned off pacifiers too early-”

He’s borderline insulting your mother right now but that ‘matter of fact’ crease between his brows is so cute, he talks with his hands often, so you opt to follow his free hand with your eyes.

You sigh contently, not feeling immense boredom any longer.

“Spence, if you wanted to tell me you often look at my mouth, you could’ve just said it.” You say with a joking behavior, making the team mates that were paying attention to the two of you, laugh.

Spencer blushes, immediately fumbling his words, claiming that’s not what he meant at all.

There’s an assurance that you have to have an ugly personality just because you’re pretty gorgeous.

But Spencer wants to declare it’s wrong. You’re insanely kind to every kid you talk to on the case, you listen and reassure them of their safety, that you were here to help stop the one who was doing this.

At the end of the long, hot, day, you sit in the passenger seat of the SUV as Spencer drives to the hotel. Everyone could take a deep breath now that the missing girl was found safe and the UnSub is now in custody.

“That last girl we talked to had a crush on you.” You say to him with a pouted lip of cuteness. “I miss being fourteen and being in love with guys who are too old for me.”

Spencer looks over at you, relaxed against the seat with the first couple buttons of your blouse undone, and he chuckles.

“I don’t really feel comfortable knowing I only attract minors.” He says, looking back to the road so he doesn’t crash from staring at your side profile for too long.

“Oh come on, you don’t just attract teenagers.” You scoff, reaching over and squeezing his bicep.

Goosebumps cover his skin.

He shoots you a look as if to say ‘I don’t believe you’, and you shoot him one that says ‘we’ve been over this’. You have had this conversation about him being a total catch before, of course, but you’re happy to do it again.

“You’re very smart, baby, but you’re so so ignorant sometimes. It’s like you’re blind to women looking at you with desire.” You state, adjusting the hem of your skirt as you push your legs further open in a more relaxed position.

“No, I think you just think everyone looks and everyone with desire because it’s a look you’re used to.” He speaks, focusing on your stockings for a moment.

Usually you have to keep your suggestive comments to a minimum because others are around, but now it’s just the two of you. You could say whatever you wanted.

“Someone besides me needs to let you know that you can easily make a woman hot, I think that’s what is going to ease you.”

He almost swerves the car off the road at the way your words register in his mind.

“You get… flustered?” He questions meekly, testing the waters that are getting impossibly deep.

“Of course I do, are you kidding?” You laugh, staring at nothing but him. “You show up looking so good all the time, saying all this smart stuff, always proving how good you are to me. It makes me have to remind myself that HR would have my ass if I proved you have a swooning effect on me.”

His heart beats in his ears, his nose pink.

He wades deeper into the inappropriate water.

“HR, huh? Sounds like that’s some serious violations you think about.”

It’s not supposed to be that dirty, but to you? It sets you over the moon.

“Oh trust me, handsome, the things I think about probably shouldn’t leave my mind, even if I want them to.”

There.

That was a real statement, not just a joke. Right?

It’s finally registering in his mind. Before, he played it all of as you just being funny, that you flirt with everyone because it’s like your form of communication and you’re friendly, that you say these things without meaning and his feelings are one sided. You choose words carefully and it’s not so scary or real to him.

But you just flipped the script.

‘Even if I want them to.’ You had said.

Over and over, your voice echoes in his head. He sits on the hotel room bed and it consumes him.

It’s dark outside, he should be in bed. He’s showered, he’s dressed and ready for sleep and it doesn’t come.

He has to ask, he has to hear you debunk his assumptions that you meant more than you did.

To hell with what the clock says, he swiftly leaves his room, trailing down the second story balcony, past room doors. The air is cool against his skin as he remembers your room number. All the team’s rooms were scattered and he’d hate to come knocking on Morgan’s room instead.

With adrenaline, he knocks on your door and waits, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. He’s brave, that’s what he tells himself. He could leave, feeling totally embarrassed and pathetic but what’s new?

You open the door and the air leaves his lungs.

Clearly, you were in the middle of unwinding.

And undressing.

Lingerie hidden under the robe you hold closed, you look up at Spencer with concern at his frantic face.

“Spence, everything alright?” That silky voice asks with care and concern.

He can’t.

He can’t do it anymore.

“What did you mean, before?”

“What?” You ponder, a breeze catching you, making you pull the robe closer.

“You said that your thoughts shouldn’t leave your mind, even if you want them too. Is that you just toying with me? The lines are getting a little blurred now.” He doesn’t hear the way he sounds, so desperate.

But you do, and it makes your heart ache. You look into his needy brown eyes and know he’s finally doing something about this sexual tension you know he’s been dealing with, that both of you have been dealing with.

Without a word, you let the robe fall open, exposing a vast more amount of skin Spencer hasn’t seen from you before.

“There’s never been lines to blur, Spencer, it’s just been me and you.” You say softly.

His mouth goes dry and he can’t speak. You watch his eyes drift down your lace covered chest, down your stomach and over your panties, all the way to the second gun you always carry, strapped to your thigh, just above the lace top of your nylon thigh high.

He could drop to his knees for you, hold the backs of your soft thighs and press his head to your stomach, declaring he’ll be whatever you want him to be.

“I don’t…I…” He stammers, looking deep into your honest eyes.

“This isn’t a ploy.” You state.

You can see the moment he decides he wants to risk it all. With a large step forward, his cradling your jaw between his large hands and brushing his lips to yours. Welcoming it with a satisfied sigh, you walk him back into the room. He manages to slam the door shut, pulling back hesitantly as you drop the robe.

“This means you like me, right?” He clarifies. “I’m just…making sure.”

You bite your lower lip to suppress a laugh. “Yeah, Spence, this means I like you. I’ve always liked you.”

“Good.” He breathes, bringing you closer once more.

All those times you wondered, you know now that Spencer is so deep with his actions, even if he is uncertain. He’s gentle, but you grip his sweatshirt in your hands and deepen the kiss, showing that you’re sure about this. The moment your tongue slips between his lips, he’s lost all calm.

This can’t be happening, but it is and his heart is pounding.

Stumbling towards your bed, you blindly feel for the edge of the mattress so you can sit. He looks down at you, face red and sweat pants growing a little tight suddenly.

“We don’t have to do anything.” You say so kindly, smiling to ease him.

“I want…no, I want this.” He says. “I’ve wanted this for so long, please.”

You shift your thighs together.

“You don’t have to beg, I’ll let you.” You promise.

A little awkward, he nods, sitting beside you. His finger tips glide down your thigh, unstrapping the holster and walking it to the table.

“We should probably get rid of the firearm before anything bad happens.” He laughs, making you chuckle.

Pushing yourself further up the bed, you motion him to follow. The thing you’re learning with Spencer is if you give him an inch, he’ll take a mile and you love it. He’s kissing you with more hunger now, running his hand down to one of your stockings before slowly pulling it down your leg.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

You nod with a smile. “You don’t have to ask before touching me, I want you to.”

It’s better than Christmas day.

He leans back as he pulls the nylon off your left leg, then turns and does the other, leaving a small kiss to your knee in the process.

It’s slow, the way he lays between your legs, how you make out sensually, how you’re running your hands through his hair and the noise he makes when you let his hands wander.

He wants to be able to memorize you, every curve and shape that you are.

He wants to burry his head between your thighs and you might just let him.

“Baby, wait.” You tell him as he takes his glasses off and sets them on the nightstand. “It’s a lot, you really don’t need to.” You say.

“I want to.” He says as he sucks at your neck.

“Have you ever done it before?” You question, knowing it’s not necessarily something for beginners.

“I’ve read a lot of things.” He tells you genuinely.

He researched oral sex.

You gasp lightly. “Do you know how hot that is?”

He grins bashfully.

You don’t have high hopes, but if he wants something, how can you tell him no? So you coach him at first, thinking you’ll be of help.

Your words die quickly as his tongue is on you.

Spencer Reid, your nerdy coworker, your sweet, awkward boy, is eating you out better than anyone ever has. He does it like he’s been doing it for years, like he knows your body. He is liked a starved man.

Chest arched off the bed, your head falls back, hand in his hair, holding him there as you shudder and curse out.

“Fuck, Spence, oh fuck.” You sob out, struggling to not close your thighs around his head.

He’s having the time of his life.

All of those times he’s imagined it, it’s way better, you sound so much better, taste so good.

It hasn’t even been that long and you’re shaking, hips thrusting up against his face. You gaze down at him, how he flicks his eyes up at you, how he smiles.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum, oh shit.” You whine out, trying to hold onto reality while the burn in your stomach gets hotter.

Toes curling, you can’t control the moans coming from your throat. It makes a delightful sound mixed with your heavy breathing, Spencer wants to hear it for the rest of his life.

It’s safe to say this is his new favorite thing to do in the entire world.

As you mentally float into outer space, your heavy limbs drop and for a moment you’re convinced you’ve left your body. It takes a good solid minute for you to come back and remember how to breathe properly.

A sharp whimper leaves you from the sheer sensitivity you have, that’s when you have to pull Spencer away before he pushes you through a second orgasm that would have had you blacking out.

He looks so appealing, hair tousled, lips wet from your slick, and he gives you a drunk and goofy grin, all you can think is ‘I’m going to eat him.’

“C-come here.” You say with a hoarse voice, pulling him up to you.

You taste yourself on his tongue, kissing him with gratitude and affection.

“Was that okay?” He questions, wiping the remaining mess off his face.

“Okay?” You question. “That was amazing, Spence, like really amazing.”

Rubbing his cheek, you go to let your hand travel down his chest and torso.

“Do you want me to make you feel good too?”

He looks away for a moment, awkwardly chuckling before looking back to you.

“I, um, no. I already…I’m good.”

It takes a second for you to put together what he’s trying to say, but when you do, your eyes widen.

“You’re the perfect man.” You claim.

He likes that thought. After getting cleaned up and lying with you, he likes the idea that to you, he’s more than enough.

He has something now that’s just his. You both agree that the team won’t need to know about this dynamic you share, it’s a secret he likes knowing he has.

His fingers trail up and down your arm as you relax into his chest.

“Were you a spy before you came to the BAU?” He asks into the quietness.

You can’t help but chuckle. “I was an intelligence agent, working in hand with members of the CIA, representing my branch of the bureau.” You explain so casually.

Spencer nods. “…So, a spy?”

Kissing his jaw, you nod. “Yeah, handsome, whatever you say.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #mature #smut #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom

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reidsdimples · 7 months ago

Text

Requested by @reidsdaisies

“would you be up for writing another dom!spencer fic (a little more of the softer dominance side) with punishment. maybe the reader does something in order to make him jealous (wether purposely or not) and when they’re in comfort and privacy, he reminds her who she belongs with. if you do want to write this, could it possibly involve some spanking? unless ofc it makes you uncomfy"

A/N- love this idea! Hope you enjoy!

A Not So Gentle Reminder

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

18+ ❤️‍🔥 MDNI ‼️

Your attempts to make Spencer jealous work.

“Oh he’s going to eat his heart out when he sees this!” You gush at Penelope as you tug down the short red dress which is riding up your thighs.

“Told you I have good taste!” She winks at you. “And punish him, he’s acting like a jerk.”

The two of you are in her apartment, preparing to meet the rest of the team and whomever their dates are at a bar. You and Spencer had an argument over his inability to give you the proper attention you needed outside of work.

You were wrapped up in work too, both of you being in the BAU but he was so stubborn once he set his mind on something. You had stormed out of your shared apartment and told him you’d meet him at the bar later.

You had a feeling he’d be upset, but not as upset as he was going to be when you showed up in this dress. You smirk in the mirror and ensure your cleavage looks perfect.

When you and Garcia walk in with arms linked, it takes a minute to find the team. JJ and Will cancelled last minute to be with the baby but Emily and Derek were conversing at the bar.

“Damn!” Derek praises as he strolls up to greet the two of you. He spins Penelope around to inspect her dress before holding your arm up and doing the same to you. “You still with Pretty boy?” He playfully flirts with you like always.

“She is,” comes Spencer’s voice from behind you as he presses his entire body against your back. His hand snakes around your waist and you feel him inhale you deeply.

“No Hotch either,” Emily waves her phone around. You frown.

“Rossi?” You ask and step out of Spencer’s grasp.

“On his way,” she smiles.

“Frozen Piná Colada please,” you ask the bartender and lean purposely over the bar. You feel your dress ride up slightly and Spencer’s eyes burning into you.

“They’re fighting,” Garcia whispers to Derek and Emily.

Spencer is still lingering some distance away from you when you pop up on a barstool with your drink. You stare into his eyes when you gently place the tip of the straw into your mouth and suck.

He’s seething, you can see his fingers twitching. He’s thinking, calculating how exactly to respond. You knew he wanted to punish you, he had a thing for it. Not that you minded, in fact giving in would be him playing right into your little game. He knew it.

He avoids you and stands on the other side of Derek, effectively putting the whole group between you.

Someone you don’t know lands on the empty barstool on your other side, Penelope’s eyes going wide. Even Rossi raises his eyebrows as if to see where this will go.

“Another frozen drink for the lady,” the attractive man buys you a drink.

Spencer doesn’t miss it, you see his shaggy hair shift as he turns his head to listen.

“And who are you?” You purr and turn to him as you throw one leg over the other.

You were pretty sure you were going to burst into flames from the heat of Spencer’s eyes burning into you.

“Hey how are you,” Penelope wraps an arm around you and greets the stranger. “Boy genius is turning red, wrap it up,” she whispers in your air.

The bartender slides her the other drink just as she finishes the first one.

“Kyle, what’s your name?” His eyes scan your body and he turns so his knee grazes your leg.

“Y/N,” you offer him a sultry smile.

You hear commotion behind you when the man places his hand on your leg and trails is slowly up your thigh.

“Woah,” Derek hums and he’s got Spencer by the crooks of his arms, hauling him backward.

His gaze meets yours, something between anger and heart burning in his.

“Thanks for the drink, I don’t need it,” you push it towards Kyle and stand to leave. Perhaps you took it a little too far.

Spencer and Derek are arguing in the dim hallway leading to the bathrooms when you approach.

“I’m out,” Derek throws up his hands and walks away.

“Too far,” he growls. “I don’t mind our little games but he put his hands on you.” He’s pacing, running his hands through his messy curls. “And this dress? I can see your ass!” He grabs your forearm and pulls you into him.

“I just wanted-“ you whimper.

His breathing is harsh, rapid against you. He backs you into the wall and kisses you hard. It wasn’t sweet, he was claiming you, pinning you to the wall beneath him.

“Go get in the car,” he shoves his keys into your hand and walks quickly back to the group.

You do as he says, heat pooling between your legs. You loved seeing him like this, jealous, angry, just slightly out of control.

It takes a few minutes but he finally drops into the drivers seat. He doesn’t say a word as he revs the engine and speeds off.

“Spencer-“

“Quiet,” he shuts you down. Okay, still mad.

You wondered what he was going to do to you, what kind of punishment he was dreaming up.

When he trails behind you into the apartment, it isn’t wrath or heat in his eyes but something closer to disappointment.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’m sleeping in my office,” he sighs and turns on his heel before sauntering away.

That… that was new. You truly had taken it too far. You knew it, and you hurt him. That’s why you wanted him to hurt you physically, you deserved it. He needed it. Didn’t he?

You go to your shared master room and shrug out of the cursed dress. What are you going to do?

You decide to give him time to calm down before padding gently into his office. You’re wrapped in your black silk robe and your hair is pulled back. He’s lounging on the couch reading War & Peace, a “light read” for him.

“I was wrong. I’m sorry, Spence,” you exhale slowly.

He looked utterly wrecked, you didn’t know that man would touch you but you really didn’t expect it to have such an effect on your boyfriend.

He closes the book and sits up straight on the couch. He looks up at you with sad brown eyes.

“I understand you wanted to entice me. But to flirt with someone else do boldly in front of me, in front of the team…” he inhales sharply and tenses his jaw in frustration. “I promised I would never lay a hand on you in anger.”

“But, but I want you to punish me. I crossed a line,” you plead. “ I deserve it,” you whisper.

He pulls you towards him, his hands on the backs of your thighs until you’re standing between his legs. The touch of his fingertips ignites your body, making you aware of everything.

“What is it you think you deserve?” His hands trail up and squeeze your ass, slightly parting the cheeks. No underwear might have been a good call. “Do you think you should be gagged? Spanked? Should I use your mouth to make myself cum and leave you with nothing?” His words drip seduction as his voice drops an octave.

You just nod. Any, all of it. You don’t care.

He seizes you suddenly as you stare it him with wide eyes. He lurches you from between his legs before bending you over his lap in one swift motion. Your robe scrunches up, pooling around your hips so that your ass is exposed. He places a hand gently there, rubbing thoughtfully.

“Please,” you whimper and arch your ass up. You know he loves to hear you beg.

He brings his hand down with a sharp slap, causing you to jolt. He twists your ponytail around his other hand to pull your head up. He keeps you at an awkward angle to force you to be still.

He slaps you harder now, in the same spot, drawing a whimper from you. He groans in appreciation at the swelling and redness of your ass on the fourth and fifth slap. You’re grunting as tears sting your eyes. It hurts but it’s causing your pussy to throb.

He circles his fingers down down down as though he’s about to touch you where you need it most, but then his hand flies up and he strikes you again.

“No one else touches you like that,” he demands and strikes you again. He drops your head and allows you to writhe in his lap.

“Yes sir,” you whimper.

He flattens his hand on your ass, and leads with his middle finger down to your entrance. He pokes against it gently but you can feel your arousal greet him.

“Do you think someone else can make you feel this good?” He muses.

“No,” you shake your head. It was true, your body had never been so worshipped before Spencer.

He pulls you up to stand on wobbly legs. He stands too and you’re unsure what he’s thinking when he leads you to sit with him on the soft rug in front of the fireplace.

His eyes stare into yours as his nimble fingers untie your robe, allowing it to fall open and off your shoulders.

You hurriedly help him out of his button down and watch hungrily as he undoes his pants. His pretty cock is pulled free, causing your mouth to water. He takes it in his hand and watches you as he strokes it a few times.

“Is this what you want? Is this why you’ve been such a brat?” He taunts as he leans back on one palm and stretches his long legs.

Your pussy aches to be full of him, to feel him inside of you. The tip glistens with precum and you’re entranced in the way his hand fits around his girth, his length. His curly hair is pushed back perfectly, he looks breathtaking. Like a Greek god brought to life.

“Yes,” you whine.

He lays back and you think you’re going to ride him when he redirects you.

“You’re going to sit on my face while I fuck your throat,” he rasps.

You swallow hard and nod. He grips your hips and pulls you backward until you’re hovering over his face. You had never done this before, the feeling of his breath fanning across your pussy causes you to twitch. He presses a hand to your back and pushes you forward.

You greedily gather his hard cock into your hand and squeeze as you pump it. You lick your lips before taking it into your mouth, drooling to soak it so your hand can pleasure him too.

Finally after you set a teasingly slow rhythm with his cock, does his tongue greet you. He presses it flat against your clit before trailing it up and into your soaking wet hole. You moan around his cock and pause, sitting up over his face.

“I said sit,” he growls and pulls you fully onto his face.

You can feel everything, his tongue, his lips, his nose prodding into you, the stubble of facial hair and he laps and licks against you. He thrusts his hips upward, slamming his cock into the back of your throat to remind you of your part in this.

How were you supposed to focus when he’s sucking on your pussy like a dehydrated man? But you do, you bob your head and suck hard, allowing him to thrust deep into your throat. You’re amazed at the skills he possesses to fuck your mouth while fucking your pussy with his tongue.

You’re moaning around his cock, it feels too fucking good. You starts twisting your hand around him and sucking his cock faster, earning a sharp slap across your ass when he moans. You’re losing yourself in pleasure and your climax approaches.

You know he’s getting close, his cock red and angry. You swirls your tongue around him, tasting his sweet silky skin. Until finally his hips stutter and he breaks his mouth free of your cunt to moan.

He pushes his hips upward and shoots cum into your throat. It keeps coming in hot streams and you swallow all of him with a satisfied moan.

“Good girl,” he praises but turns his attention back to your pussy.

He sucks your clit into his mouth in the way that drives you crazy and makes you sit up, somewhat straightening your back.

You find yourself shyly thrusting against his face but stop, embarrassed at how good it feels. You cry out but then he starts guiding your hips to rock against his perfect fucking face.

You can feel the shape of his sharp jaw against your thighs, it’s so hot. He greedily buries himself in your pussy until you’re crying out, shaking as your orgasm crashes through you.

He doesn’t stop, he moves his head to keep his face buried deep and you’re wondering how he’s breathing. The room is filled with the wet sounds of him devouring you but you don’t care how filthy it sounds. You throw your head back and ride him as long as he’ll let you.

You know what he’s doing, he’s showing you that you’re his. The your pussy is his, that no one else gets to taste you, no one else gets to make you cum.

“Spencer!” You’re crying out as he sends you over the edge again. He’s filthy is all you can think, he’s prefect.

When he helps you off of him, he sits up and looks at you.

“Here,” you hand him his shirt to wipe his face. He huffs a breathy laugh but does so.

“I love you,” he caresses your cheek. “You just needed a reminderthat you belong to me.”

“Always. I love you too,” you take his hand in yours and kiss him deeply. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

He smiles, relieved.

“Now let me run you a bath and give you a massage,” he kisses your forehead and stands.

#spencer reid #mgg #criminal minds #mgg pics #dr reid #spencer reid one shots #spicy spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x y/n #Spencer Reid softdom #soft!dom spencer Reid

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tojipie · 2 years ago

Note

BABES i love ur writing sm ugh can i request a how prisoner toji met the love of his life? mwah thank you

prison bf series linked here !

content: (p in v smut, car sex, fluff, angst, fem!reader)

you met toji on a weeknight during the short time you worked as a waiter in the city.

the restaurant was empty, save for him at a table in the corner. it was 30 mins before closing time, and the older man showed no signs of leaving. whether that was to your chagrin or your delight was still unclear.

“so that’s the foie gras and the bottle of La Grande Dame?” you ask sleepily, setting the meal down with a shaky hand.

“that’s right.” the raven haired man tells you, pouring himself a glass of the ridiculously pricey wine. “thanks kid.”

to say that you were nervous would be an understatement, you were terrified. the man in front of you was gorgeous, broad with raven hair and a deep scar running the height of his lips. you’d be blushing if it weren’t for the fatigue that’d settled throughout the length of your body. 9 hour shifts were no joke.

toji glances over at you, taking in the tremble of your hands. you’re a sweet little thing, probably new to the college you attend, working past midnight to pay off whatever you still owe from last semester.

“hey.” he whispers, motioning to the table, “sit down for a little.”

you glance around the restaurant in horror, he’s not talking to you right? he can’t be. you slowly let him lead you into the chair that lies opposite to his, sighing at the relief you feel in your thighs and shoulders.

“thank you.” you mumble, laying your head down on the cool wood of table. he chuckles at that, watching you rub the aches from your neck and shoulders. you don’t care who sees, much less if this interaction costs you your job.

“tired?” he teases, pushing his plate towards you.

“have some, pretty girls need to eat.”

“mm no thank you. i don’t like duck.” you mumble, letting the deep bass of his laughter lull you right to sleep.

you were fired within minutes, that much is obvious. doomed to hand in your little name tag and apron while the raven haired man bickers with your manager at the door.

“you call yourself a businessman? you work her like a fucking dog and you think that makes you a pimp or something? i told her to nap. she fucking needed the sleep!”

you tug on the sleeve of his suit jacket, urging him to follow you out the door. toji sighs, running hand through his hair.

“it’s ok.” you tell him, “i was gonna quit before spring break came anyways.”

sleeping on the job at a Michelin star restaurant probably wasn’t the best course of action. though it wasn’t all bad, you did end up receiving the best fuck of your life that same night.

“oh my god—fuck! oh my god.” you pant, digging your fingernails into the driver’s seat headrest. the raven haired man ruts into you from below, wrapping both hands around your waist to use as leverage.

“shit, you’re a nice piece of ass kid.” he mutters, reaching down to rub your little button with the pad of his thumb. you feel your stomach erupt in flames at the crude compliment. why hadn’t you tried fucking customers before?

you hang onto the back of the seat for dear life, wailing as you drip all over his thighs.

“look, that’s all for me?” he asks, pulling your cheeks apart to see where the two of you connect. the older man leans forward to suck on your neck, voice shaky with the force of his impending climax.

“you’re gonna make me fucking cum, you know that? fuck.” the way he holds you so sweetly deeply contrasts the filth he spews right into your skin. you’ve never been this cock-drunk in your life, babbling nonsense in the back of a horrifyingly spacious bmw while a man you met an hour ago pummels your cunt open.

it’s quiet as the two of you drive back to your place. toji’s suit jacket is draped around your shoulders, shielding you from the frigid night air. the windows are cracked to let the cold in, no doubt to try and get all the glass in the car to unfog.

jesus. you just want to go to bed.

“this is me.” you tell him, gathering your bag from the floor to enter your apartment. the raven haired stranger slips you a card with a number on it. you pocket it and thank him, giddy at his implication of seeing you again.

“i had fun tonight.” you tell him shyly, leaning over to peck the scar on his mouth. he groans, pulling you towards him to kiss your forehead.

“you take care of yourself ok? no more dead end jobs.” you nod, kissing him again.

“here.” he says sternly, slipping a rubber-banded roll of cash through the opening in your purse.

you pause, stomach turning sour at the gesture.

“i’m not a hooker, you don’t need to pay me just because we had sex.” you mutter, digging in your bag to give the money back.

“you know that’s not why i gave it to you.” he tells you plainly. tucking a loose strand of your behind your ear.

“do what you need to do, pay off what you need to pay, and then call me so i can take you out on a real date.”

you pause, looking at the ground shyly.

“ok?” he asks.

you nod, reaching to intertwine your fingers.

“ok.”

tag list ! <3 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies

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dev1lm4n · 2 years ago

Text

moth to flame

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: you're pining over wicked fantasies or who you recently discovered to be mr. miller, even when it's indubitably wrong.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: explicit (18+), pre-apocalypse, accidental voyeurism, masturbation, age gap (joel's in his mid 30's and reader is in her early 20's), reader is an exchange student but nationality is not mentioned

notes: set in 2013. do reblog or comment if u enjoyed it!

Turbulent wind pushed on the pickup truck to no avail. That, paired with the soothing rhythmic grunt of the ignition created a perfect moody atmosphere. It was the peak of summer; yet somehow, for whatever reason, Austin was looking awfully somber. Gray and bland like the taste of soaked cereals. Sarah was bound to return to school despite the hefty weekends she’s spent with the newest addition to the Millers, and she didn’t like it at all. She’s making it real obvious too for everyone. Cheeks puffed up like she is five and always a loud thump following her every move.

She landed her dad’s coffee on the table with a loud thump. She stormed back into her room with a louder thump. She swung the pickup truck’s door with the loudest thump you’ve ever heard, before making her way over to the school’s gate. Her small pout remained on her face despite your cheerful wave and words of encouragement from behind the rolled window.

She’s a cute kid, you decided.

You’re sure things would link perfectly between you and your host family if it weren’t for the fact that you practically avoided Mr. Miller like he’s the goddamn plague. Everytime you slipped out of your room, you had to make sure he wasn’t in a five meter proximity. You’d rather be dehydrated and starved than to meet him after his day-time job (which you’ve recently learned was a contracting gig), lingering around the kitchen with a stale sandwich up his mouth. Similarly, you treated Sarah as a trusty messenger for every message you had for her dad. Whether it’s a leaky sink or a hefty request to drop you off at your college.

It’s a genuine miracle Sarah never questioned you on your abnormal behavior, nor did Mr. Miller. Was this your streak of luck?

You tucked your phone back in your pocket after a quick run through your texts, eyes focused back towards what laid ahead of you. Mr. Miller’s broad shoulders stretched across the length of the car’s cushioned seat, moving with a steady pulse at every breath of air he claimed. Your careful eyes watched over the seams of his shirt; the correct side up after Sarah’s clever remark earlier that morning. Slowly, you traced along the nape of his neck with your bare eyes. Further and further, right until you could finally spot the dark brown strands tangled in with hints of gray. It looked soft.. much like how it appeared to be on his videos. You wondered how it’d feel like to run your hands over it, feel it through the ridges of your knuckles, and pull on‒

“Hey, you listenin’ to me?”

The man’s baritone voice penetrated the thick silence and you were left aghast. Soul sucked out of your body as your eyes flickered towards the rearview mirror, eventually catching the small smile playing on his dangerously charming face. He’d be the end of you that’s for sure. This was a bad idea, asking him to drive you to college just because taxi rates are crazy high this time of the year, leaving the two of you alone. Alone and hidden under the privacy of his truck, you were fucked through and through. You just hoped he wasn’t clever enough to somehow figure out your utterly shameful thoughts.

“Sorry.. um.. I was thinking of something. What were you saying, Mr. Miller?”

Yeah, that’s right. You were thinking of how nice his hair would feel when you’re gripping on it for dear life, but he didn’t have to know that.

“No worries, kiddo. Just.. I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

At the last syllable he uttered, you were already rigid. Parched, feeling like your tongue magically turned into sandpaper; you’d always consider yourself to be an excellent debater at all parts of life, but his lone question left you high and dry. Your eyes darted back onto the rearview mirror and instead of his candid expression, you were met with his scintillating gaze. Curious and prodding into the deepest part of your head. It enthralled you, encouraged you to say the truth.

“You’re always scurrying off when I’m around,” he gave a thought to what he’s about to say. “I get that Sarah is friendlier and a lot more relatable to talk to. Talkin’ to an old man isn’t exactly preferable, is it?”

He let out a polite set of laughter, which was met by a deafening silence. You crumpled under the tension. Awkward and wanting nothing more than to escape the car like some fugitive in handcuffs. Killing Me Softly With His Song by Fugees continued to play faintly in the background, once again becoming a fitting ringtone for your impending response.

“No,” you denied slowly. Effectively lying, but it was as obvious as a kid trying to pocket candies from the cash register. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

His expression eventually twisted into one of mirth; brows quirked with interest, a tight smile edged to unfold. He’s probably finding the telenovela-inspired reply hilarious, but the man’s polite enough to store all his witty comments in the back of his head.

“What I mean is,” you paused to inhale deeply. What were you even supposed to say? You used to watch all his explicit videos and therefore you couldn't look him in the eye without getting reminded of every single scene? Lying has never been your forte, but the other option was far too humiliating. Even for you. “I’m naturally awkward, Mr. Miller. I.. I feel embarrassed when approaching you. Feels like I’m bothering you or something.”

That was half a lie. A white lie, you’d conclude.

“Oh sweetheart, you never bother me.”

The way he said that nickname had you sweating buckets. Seconds away from throwing up your entire breakfast menu out of sheer nervousness. You knew he meant it in a platonic familial-bond type of way, but God did it remind you of what he calls all his pretty co-stars.

“You and Sarah are my number one priority now. You know that, right?”

“Right. Thanks, Mr. Miller.”

“I’m home.”

Exhaustion trailed after your every step as you made your way through the empty hallway. A result of caffeine-induced studying paired with the buzzing busyness of commuting in peak-hour. This was all easily avoidable. You should’ve accepted Mr. Miller’s offer in picking you up after his gig up West, but the fear of making a slip up is overriding your desire for convenience. You wouldn't want to make things even more weird than it already is. Your most prized possession, the laptop you’ve owned since the beginning of time, weighed your shoulder down exceptionally as you trudged through. A loud grunt passed your lips as you stumbled across; appearing exactly like the hunchback of Notre Dame.

“Oh! You’re here!”

You took a step back to meet the feminine voice, bubbly and hearty from the girl sitting in a criss-cross manner in front of the TV. Sarah was smiling. A big toothy smile that was too hard to resist, despite the fatigue weighing your shoulders down. You’re just soft when it comes to the little girl.

“Dad’s giving me a massage. Do you want one too?”

You must’ve been dog-tired, because you foolishly didn’t notice the large figure looming over her from the sunken couch. It was admittedly dim in the living room, but he was as obvious as an elephant, big and rigged with muscles out of a need for his profession. Both his contracting gig and his other.. scandalous endeavors. Breathing was all that you needed to focus on for now, and perhaps schooling your expression. You’re almost entirely sure you wouldn’t be able to speak no matter how hard you try.

A small unsure quirk of your head was what you settled with and Sarah, being the nicest girl you’ve ever known, quickly ushered you to sit by her side. On the wooden floor. For a damned massage from Mr. Miller.

You complied, of course. Even when you look mildly petrified by the idea.

“What’re you up to all evening?”

His voice grazed your eardrums, alike to a powerful gust of wind, as you seated yourself on the foot of the couch. Sarah by your side, looking fondly in your direction, giving you all the more pressure to appear put together when you could simply falter at the bare sound of his voice. You needed to get your shit together. Mr. Miller’s an actual man, for fucks sake, it’s horribly immoral to think of him as the Wicked Fantasies in these kinds of setting.

“Studying.”

“Is that why you’re so pent-up?”

No. You’re pent-up because you’ve spent the entire week trying to be on your best behavior, trying to act like you’re not openly thirsting over this sweet girl’s father, trying to act like you’re not tipping into insanity from merely being placed in the same room as he is, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Think so,” you hummed softly.

“Poor thing.”

Anticipation almost killed you right there and then. You knew he was going to place his calloused fingers over your shoulders, knew that it was the basic requirement to give someone a shoulder massage, but you couldn’t help but develop butterflies in your belly at the thought. It wasn’t beautiful nor poetic, instead, it was an absolute nuisance to conceal your thoughts. When he began to place his hands on your upper back, you flinched.

A hitch in your breathing, then a throaty groan.

You were sensitive, touch-starved, and his touch practically confirmed that.

Mr. Miller’s touch was expertly firm yet gentle, the way you imagined it for a long time. His calloused fingers glided along your trapeze muscles with finesse. Fluid and seamless, as if he’s a master to the human body. Your eyes fluttered shut as he focused on the tension points. The nook between your bones which was constantly weighed down by your bag didn’t go unnoticed. His skilled fingers kneaded away every knot and tightness, making you surrender to his ministrations.

You didn’t want him to stop.

You wanted him to touch you more.

To have each one of his rough fingers stroke every soft bend of your body, like how he treated May and Sadie as if they were his own personal ragdoll.

To feel him under the constraints of your thin t-shirt, without a veil separating the two of you.

You craved him so bad, even when it’s wrong.

“You feel better?”

When he spoke, his raspy voice was magnetic to the core of who you were, as if he's able to resonate with all of you when others can barely achieve a fraction of it. It sounded sincere, like he truly cared about your well-being and not to simply feed into your secret desires. He meant well and you’re here acting like a starved pervert. The thought made you cringe ever so slightly.

“Yeah. Much better.”

“Good then, kiddo.”

The nickname turned you sour. You're more than willing to debate him on it, unlike last time.

“I’m not a kid.”

“No?”

He was so smug about it too. Even when you're looking all pissy.

“No. I’m a fully grown adult, Mr. Miller. Do note that I’m in my twenties,” you schooled him persistently.

“Twenties? Wow, you’re truly ancient.”

“Yeah and you’re a dinosaur, Mr. Miller.”

The silly quarrel you’ve gotten into with the older man made Sarah burst into laughter, breaking your tenacity and effectively making you laugh along with her.

It was the first time in forever that the Millers laughed that hard together.

As the evening sun painted the kitchen in sepia hues, you stood before the cutting board; a bunch of onions staring right back at you, waiting to be transformed. You have always been passionate about cooking as you viewed it a stress-relieving activity, similar to those medley of coloring books marketed for adults. With a polished kitchen knife in hand and earphones stuffed in, you began your culinary adventure. Your hands moved swiftly, guided by blind confidence. The rhythmic sound of knife to wood began to echo all around the room.

“What are you cookin’ up?”

You could hear him as clear as day, timbre vibrating through your ear canals. Only then did you notice that he had indeed pulled one of your neatly stuffed earphones away, leaving you exposed to the world. To him who you’ve been avoiding despite your little chat in the truck. You looked dumbstruck. Lost in your own thoughts, your eyes wandered up the pools of honey in his eyes. The subtle movements, his thoughtful expression, all seemed to weave a tapestry of intrigue in your mind.

“I’m just chopping up onions here. Nothing exciting, really.”

It took all of you to tear yourself away from his gaze. Even so, the sensation lasted, leaving an anchor of trepidation in your chest.

“You’re back early,” you remarked matter-of-factly.

“Construction guys finished cementing early. Why? You miss me?”

You chuckled fondly. Only to shake your head as you mouthed a brief ‘no’. It’s hard not to entertain the cheeky older man despite your best effort. He was better than you could ever imagine from the confines of your laptop. He had a personality, one that easily made anyone hooked, and a kind heart, therefore it’s terribly hard to keep your burning feelings at bay. It’s wrong. Terribly wrong to view him as such when you’re almost entirely sure he viewed you as his kin, as someone to protect and show guidance to. You were drawn to him like a moth to flame, but he didn’t need to know that.

A sudden lapse in concentration caused your knife to slip, nicking your finger in the process.

A sharp sting shot through your hand.

Then a bead of crimson appeared, mingled with the pungent scent of onions.

“Shit..”

Momentarily stunned, you sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes widened with surprise. It didn’t hurt that bad yet, but it’s still a sight that made you frantic and out of your element. You instinctively brought your injured finger close to your tightly pressed lips, intending to investigate the severity of the wound. Droplets of blood seeped its way through the slim cut as you pressed on the soft pads of your pointer finger. You need to get the wound clean and so tap water was your first option.

However, fate had other plans in store.

“Oh no.. does it hurt, sweetheart?”

You grimaced at the nickname. This wasn’t a good time to get all desperate, but his voice did nothing but burn you with need. Without hesitation, Mr. Miller took hold of your nicked finger, his touch tender and reassuring. He guided your finger closer to his lips and in the many years you've lived, this was the most sensual scene you’ve ever witnessed. Your eyebrows quivered, a mixture of confusion and anticipation swirled within you.

He was your drug.

One touch and the intoxication was fatal. Whatever he wants to do is what you’ll do and there isn't a thing you can do to stop him - not that you’d want to.

With gentle care, he leaned in. He had to crouch ever so slightly to get to your level and never once did his velvety brown eyes leave yours. You’re starting to think that he was doing it on purpose. That this entire scene you’re trying to make sense of was just a part of his orchestrated show, that he indeed felt the same way you do and was just as afraid of confronting it. Though you’re never really sure; the sheer attention he gave you made your brain turn into mush.

His warm breath ghosted over the wound, and before you knew it, he pressed a soft, delicate kiss on where crimson was pooling. Your breath caught in your throat. You wanted to choke. The sting that had plagued you a moment ago now seemed to dissipate into thin air, replaced by a warmth that spread from your hand to every inch of your aching body. His mouth was a furnace. Plush at all sides as his slick tongue stuck flat against the nick.

The concentration in his face, the emphasized crows feet, the stray strands of brown dappled on his sweaty forehead.

“It’s a little old-fashioned, I know,” he whispered, his eyes locked with yours, “but sometimes a little love can make the pain go away.”

“Love?” you mumbled foolishly, still in a trance.

“You’re a part of the Millers, remember?”

What he said stung you more than the nick. It pushed you off the ledge of delusions. Your gaze slowly grew somber despite your best efforts to stay nonchalant.

“Of course, Mr. Miller.”

The steady patter of rain upon his window stirred Joel awake, droplets yet to scatter the nascent rays of the settling moon. A strange occurrence for late summer. Though, the gentle sound brought a certain calmness to his mind; a soothing melody, one that stripped him of fear and incompetence. He looked around, blurry vision still intact while he scrambled to find the time. His alarm clock flashed back the time in big bold numbers. Barely past midnight, he noted internally. Joel wasn’t so sure on why his throat felt incredibly parched, dry to the bone, in need of refreshment even when it’s only been a few hours since he tucked himself in. Was it the one beer he had at dinner?

With an irritated sigh, he groggily stumbled out of bed. His knees creaked at its rusty hinge everytime he took a step down the dimly lit staircase of his home. He felt like a nutcracker. An old worn-out one at that. He wondered if he’s gotten too old for this, too old for construction and his side job - has he developed arthritis? His worries came to a halt when a soft glow caught his attention, emanating from a partially open door.

If he remembered correctly, it was the small room by the garage he’s gifted to you.

Curiosity piqued, he hesitated for a moment.

Would he be an absolute prick if he took a short peak? Probably. But you interest him. You’ve always been interesting to him, in ways that confuses him more often than he’d like.

He neared the door. One step at a time, praying to whatever God up there that’d be kind enough not to let the wooden boards ahead of him creak at his heavy steps. In that solitary moment, he felt a mixture of emotions welling up within him. It was as if he knew that he was about to stumble upon a secret, a private moment that’d be permanently embedded in his mind. He contemplated once again when he’s just a step away from getting a clear view. Respect for you tugged at his conscience, yet an overwhelming ugly curiosity pushed him to stay, to try to understand the significance of your nocturnal act.

His brown eyes peered through the small gap left.

He could see you now, but you couldn’t see him.

In the dappled moonlight, he carefully mapped out each and every one of your soft curves. How you were bathed in gentle light, sat comfortably on top of your stacked comforter as you typed away at your laptop with lightning-like speed. How you slowly leaned forward to get a closer look at the blaring screen, hair left relaxed and rear-end clearly emphasized by your inept sleeping shorts. How you eagerly repositioned yourself, straddling two rolled pillows as if you were to ride a horse. Joel didn’t mean to look. He didn’t mean to stare in such a perverted, disgusting manner. You were just too captivating and he was one weak-willed man.

With bated breath, he continued to observe.

Joel found himself captivated, his thirst momentarily forgotten, as he marveled at the scene unfolding in front of him.

This was wrong, he reminded himself. This was you he was looking at, not anyone else. You who he always viewed as a wide-eyed young girl still trying her best to navigate around her life. You who’s naive enough to believe his lies that the pink condom packets in his pick-up truck were single-packet wet tissues. You who’s sweet enough to cook his entire family a good dinner for once; turkey, mash, and green beans. He shouldn’t be looking at you like this. He shouldn’t crave you, because you’re you and he’s him.

His dilemma fell short when you clumsily tugged both your thin shorts and cotton panties off your legs, shin planted deeply into the pristine comforter. Your cunt gleamed under the thick moonlight, arousal formed in globs of clear stickiness right around where your tiny hole appeared. The visage caused him to stiffen in his sweatpants, twitching uncontrollably as he watched you rub yourself along the soft material.

Joel had a first-class view on how you cautiously ground down against it and he was.. shamefully thrilled. A moan bubbled up, before you did it again, and again, and again, each time the pillow appeared more and more damp.

“Fuck,” you hissed to yourself and it drove Joel insane. He pushed his pants down embarrassingly as if he’s some teenage boy catching a coincidental sight of a strip tease, before he cupped himself through his briefs. You’re putting on such a good show, even when it’s not for him, or for anyone on that matter. He watched with anticipation as you leaned back on both hands, edging yourself, before you rutted against it desperately.

Your hole throbbed, contracting and loosening everytime the soft material made contact with your sensitive nub. It’s all that you focus on now. Which was working wonders, considering your quiet gasps and labored breaths were starting to turn into much vulgar noises. Loud moans and whimpers that made Joel’s cock grew with interest, dribbling with pre-cum and desire.

“Please, please, please,” you begged breathlessly.

Both of your hands disappeared for a split second. He wondered silently where it went, but the honest shadows on your wall told him more to the story. You were cupping both your breasts, massaging it kindly before going over to pinch and roll your nipples to harden. You seemed to be sensitive there. Would you enjoy his thick fingers around them?

“More.. oh please,” you begged helplessly.

He wished to come and help you, to stick a finger into that tight hole of yours, to circle your clit with his thumb, flicking indulgently until you gave up. But it’s all a part of his far-fetched fantasy. Watching is more than enough for now. Joel couldn’t even see your face, but this entire thing got him off better than all the pornos he’s personally made.

“I’m gonna- oh, oh, God.”

Your cries echoed around the room, He could see how you quivered, thighs clamping shut around the drenched pillow as you reached your final ecstasy. Everytime you rolled back, he salivated over the sight of your sopping cunt. Untouched and sensitive even from just humping. Your thrusts never falter, not even when you’re making a mess on top of the once pristine, white pillow. What a dirty girl.

Joel watched you until the very end. Right until you collapsed forward, flat on your stomach after exerting such work on your body.

Cock sore and in need of relieving.

Though, something else caught his interest. A revelation that he found to be more important to comprehend than the state of his throbbing cock.

The video you're watching to get yourself off.

They were his.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tlou #joel miller #joel miller tlou #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us imagine #joel miller imagine

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atalldrinkofcaprisun · 2 months ago

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Don’t Wait For Me After I’m Gone (pt. 2)

silco x gn!reader - he didn’t die AU - tw: canon compliant violence, drug use - 18+

howdy!!! reposted and edited again! I’m having trouble with all of the links so sorry they’re not super functional right now. But anyways, I MISS MY WIFE TAILS!!

also on ao3 xx masterlist

The screaming was the worst part. You had been posted outside of The Doctor’s underground laboratory/cave for three hours now, under the orders not to enter unless you wanted to be sedated until the procedure was over.

When the Scientist arrived at the factory, he had started work immediately. The bullets nimbly extracted and quickly stitched, his hand feebly squeezing your own when he could. You had pressed kisses to his damp temples and pushed hair out of his face, back into his rumpled style. He’d even notice sometimes but it was clear he was in agony.

“It is good you kept that with you,” The Doctor nodded his head towards the injector lying cracked on the floor towards the far wall. You had thrown it off as soon as it had emptied, “He would have been unreachable if you had not administered the medicinal serum. It gave him just enough to hold on.”

“So, he’s going to be okay?” You asked, trying to give that little flame of hope in your chest something to fuel itself.

“He will survive, yes. Survival at least.” the bandaged man replied cryptically before returning his full attention to Silco, “I suggest making plans to move him to safety. Your opponents will be hunting for you soon if they haven’t started already.” He’d put a hand on your shoulder, “I know where they will not find you.”

Shortly afterwards, you had sprinted all the way back to The Last Drop. Exhausted and shaking, you’d only managed a stammering, “Silco. He’s- the warehouse…” before promptly passing out into Ran’s arms. You’d woken up in your bed, apparently you had only been out about 20 minutes.

Now, here you stood, arms crossed and leaning against a rough stone wall. Your nails dug into your skin, trying to center yourself. You couldn’t leave, not when he was in pain. Jinx had been permitted in. Whatever had transpired between Jinx and The Doctor had created a new trust. You had wanted to protest but when Jinx set Silco down on the examination table and sat quietly in a chair in the corner, her eyes not moving from Silco, you had surrendered. Jinx needed to know her father wasn’t going to be one more thing to haunt her. You could keep watch this time.

Sevika was elsewhere getting her arm fixed once again, and keeping all of the intelligence open for signs of what had been happening in Piltover. She’d headed back to The Drop. Running Zaun directly or alone had never been something you wanted. Especially now, with the love of your life still in danger of being lost forever, and your child being the cause on top of whatever had been done to her-

There came another string of rambles, ranging from terror to agony to anger. Occasionally you would hear The Doctor muttering. You could feel the wave of emotions settle between your shoulders, winding up the muscles like snakes tensing to bite. You needed a distraction.

Threats were going to be coming from all sides. Jinx had officially crossed the carefully toed line of impertinent interference that Silco had perfected. You didn’t know what the aftermath of the missile had been, and it didn’t take a genius to guess. A part of you didn’t care. Fuck the Topsiders for needing to be brought to the battlefield. Still, you couldn’t ignore the stiffness setting in your arms and neck, your hands clenched into fists as tears began to resurface.

Another moan of pain, this one low and mournful… your name again. You covered your ears and tried to fight the urge to bust through the door.

Fuck it. You’d rather be sedated then hear one more second of this without being able to help. Hands flew to the door handle of their own accord, but were met with the empty air as the door opened first.

Jinx’s pink eyes bore into your own, flat, “Doc say you can come in. Apparently he’s though the worst. Dad’ll- be okay.” She sounded completely drained.

You gathered Jinx in a tight hug, wanting to offer any sort of comfort you could, “He’s going to understand. We’ve been so worried about you, Blue.”

“I killed him.” She mumbled into your shoulder, “I almost-”

“But you didn’t,” you pulled back to look in her eyes, your hands pushing her bangs off of her forehead to finally get a good look. She was so pale now, worse than before, almost spectral. Her freckles and dark makeup only making her appear more sickly, she was smeared with dirt and blood and crusted tears. Her eyes weren’t glowing anymore, but their pale blue had been consumed by the eery magenta of Shimmer. “He knows how much you’re struggling. He isn’t dead. It was an accident. He knows that.”

Jinx didn’t look convinced, only lifting your arms off of her and pushing past into the fissures beyond, “I just need to be alone.“ She turned before she crossed behind the faint lantern glow, “You know where to find me,” and then she was gone.

You waited, letting the compulsion to run after her and comfort her dissolve for a later time. If anything would be able to get through to Jinx it would be Silco himself. In order for him to get the chance, however, you needed to make sure Silco would stay alive. Jinx was smart, and knew when and how to lay low. She would be alright for a few hours. With a deep breath and you headed into the attached cavern.

“Doctor, Is he-“ your gaze mimed fixated on the disheveled and miserable man strapped to the gurney. At the sound of your voice Silco’s eyes landed on you, relief washing over his expression the moment he processed what he was seeing. “Thank Jannah, Sil,” you sighed, stepping and crossing the space. Your hand fell into his, fitting perfectly into his palm, warm and alive and responsive. With a smile you took your free hand and pushed the strands of charcoal and ash hair out of his face, “Hey there, handsome.” You beamed.

The once bright orange iris, now matching his daughter’s pink hue, was scanning along your features, relief washing over the face you had come to love more than you had ever thought possible. His pale blue eye was just as intently looking at you, but his eyelid hung heavy with exhaustion, “What’s a creature like you,” his voice was strained and low, rumbling out of his chest more than his throat, “doing in a place like this?”

Your mind played the first time he had said that to you as you grinned, “That line is still too cheesy to work.”

“Better than the look you gave me when I said it then.” He hummed as your hand moved from his hair to brush his cheek, “Did I ever tell you it was Jinx’s idea?”

“To try and hit on me after saving my life or?” You laughed lightly.

“To tell you,” he wheezed for a second as a flare of purple raced up his skin and into his damaged iris, “ah, how pretty you looked.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and the pain seemed to become just a little less.

“So you settled on calling me a creature?” You scoffed teasingly.

“Is now the time for such, frivolous things?” The Doctor’s tone was annoyed as he cut in. He started undoing the straps holding Silco down, and he motioned for you to help him.

You looked at the scientist with one brow raised as Silco sighed, “I’ve nearly died today. It makes a man think about things… differently,” his gaze didn’t move from your face, like he was studying it for the first time. You were used to his staring habit, but this felt different. Maybe it was the drugs, “so beautiful,” he muttered so low, he probably hadn’t even noticed he’d said it.

“Shut up, old man,” you smiled, “Save your breath.”

The Doctor moved to your side of the table, batting you away as he began to unstrap his arm and head. Which was only fair since you hadn’t even started to undo the buckle. Your hand slipped away from Silco’s and you immediately missed the feeling. The anxiety that boiled in your stomach was vicious and your skin seemed to itch with the need to continue to make sure Silco was truly alive and real, on the mend and going to survive. Once the kingpin was free, the Doctor took his pulse, then gently helped him rise to a sitting position. His face contorted with the pain but eased as he breathed through it. At last, Doc looked towards you and nodded, giving his permission, you could fully take in your paramour.

Silco’s left arm was protectively hugged around his bandage wrapped torso, his smoldering eye still pulsing pink as was it’s seafoam counterpart. His hair was haphazard and his makeup smeared away long ago, the ashen skin of his scar visible in large smudges. You wrapped your arms around him as gently as you could manage, still causing him to hiss ever so slightly. His heartbeat thumped away under your ear, protected in his rib cage, fast and a little irregular. His smell was tainted with blood and sweat but it was still him. His free arm pulled you closer, his nose resting on top of your head. Together you breathed. Just for a moment that to you, felt like the exact eternity you needed to find your voice.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

He chuckled deep in his chest, “I promise to try and not make it a habit, my lovely.”

You only burrowed further into his arms in reply. Your home was here. Safely by Silco’s side, in his arms, breathing and basking in the gift of having more time. Just as the tension had begun to ease from your shoulders Silco spoke again, “Where is Jinx? Is she alright?”

You met his gaze, “She’s… upset. She didn’t mean to kill you. I think she’s headed back to her lab. I wanted to go with her but…”

“But you needed to make sure I would be alright first.” He gently finished and ran a hand through your hair, “Thank you for saving me. Now we’re officially even.” He let his fingertips stroke your cheek, “We need to get to Jinx. I need to tell her I forgive her.”

“You won’t be able to walk on your own yet, old friend.” The Doctor spoke up again from his desk across the room, apparently he had returned to his more important projects, “Your body is still processing the serum. You don’t have your daughter’s vitality.”

Silco frowned over at the old scientist, “I think I can manage. And anyways,” he looked down at you, “I won’t be alone.”

You nodded, and stepped out of his embrace to help him down and onto his feet. As he touched the stone floor however, his legs seemed to buckle and he fell onto you heavily with a grunt of pain. You caught him and let him get his grip on the edge of the gurney. His teeth grinding as he pulled himself upwards, “Sil? Are you-?”

“It’s fine.” The ever stubborn Eye of Zaun commanded. The Doctor and you shared a quick look.

You knew he was lying but he had more pressing concerns than his own comfort at the moment, “Can you?” he gestured vaguely around himself. Asking for help was still not something he was completely comfortable with, but you knew what he meant.

You shifted around him, so one of your arms was around his midsection, the other was holding his hand as his own arm swept over your shoulders. Jinx’s Lab and The Last Drop were a bit of a walk away. The Doctor, grumbling all the while, retrieved a cane from some depths of his caverns and gave you what doses Silco might need if he took a sudden turn. With measured steps you began to lead Silco to the door. Just before you crossed the threshold, Silco tugged and stopped, “Thank you, Doctor. My family owes you a great debt.”

A stiff and matter of fact “I know.” was the only reply he received.

Silco pressed a kiss to your temple and together you set off.

#silco #arcane #silco x reader #dontwaitformeafterimgone.series #Spotify

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ahqkas · 2 months ago

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Hello hello! I just discovered your blog and I adore how you capture the batboys (Jason is my favorite >//<) air and vibe so well. It is like you're in the room with them! I'd like to request a little fic or blurb about reader and Jason being besties and both of them are comfortable with one another so they are touchy with each other. In a non-sexual way. Like, hugs and holding hands or leaning on one another. I'm a very touchy, but only with people I'm very fond of and I think Jason would be the same way. I think i'd be so cute if they do it without even realizing it. It is like they are magnets. Reader will walk in the room and migrate over to him and loop their arms and lean her head on his shoulder. Or vice versa. They would be standing in line at a shop or they are cooking dinner together and Jason just drops his head on her shoulder, hunching over to feel her warmth. They love to drape themselves over each other to recharge or simply be close. Even linking pinkies makes them happy. Maybe they don't notice they are in the same room, but still find themselves brushing shoulders before smiling once they notice who it is. I think Jason would make you feel so safe and comfortable too. He is so much bigger than you that you just want to hide in his presence. Like a giant teddy bear. (I'm shy too. So he is like the perfect shield to unexpected social interactions.) I got off topic! No matter where they are, walking down the street, sitting on the couch, going to a bookstore, eating dinner, they always find a way to touch one another. Maybe even light kisses on the cheek in greeting/goodbyes. They just can't help it! It is so bad (but good though ofc) that people assume they are married. His family loves to tease him about it, if they even know about her. Anyway, that is my idea! Love your work! <3

JASON AND YOU DIDN’T THINK ABOUT IT MUCH—how easily you gravitated toward each other, how natural it felt. It wasn’t something you planned or discussed; it just happened, like the way a flame seeks oxygen or tides chase the moon. It was a rhythm you fell into without even realizing it.

Like tonight. You’d just walked into his apartment after a long day, shrugging your jacket off as you searched for him. You didn’t need to call out or knock; Jason always left the door unlocked for you, a silent reassurance that you were welcome anytime. You spotted him in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, chopping vegetables with the kind of precision that made you wonder if he’d learned it from Alfred or while cleaning weapons. He glanced up, a slow smile spreading across his face as you drifted over to him.

Before you knew it, your arm had looped around his, head resting against his broad shoulder. His warmth radiated through the thin fabric of his shirt, and the steady rhythm of his breathing grounded you in a way no amount of solitude ever could. “Long day?” he asked, voice low and rough, like he was talking more to the air around you two than directly to you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re too tall for this to be comfortable, you know.”

Jason huffed out a soft laugh, setting the knife down and turning slightly so he could press his chin to the top of your head. “And you’re too stubborn to just sit down and let me cook. So, here we are.”

It was always like this. Subtle touches that felt as natural as breathing. Standing in line for coffee, Jason’s hand would find yours, linking your pinkies just because. Or you’d be out walking, and you’d lean into his side, not realizing you had done it until you noticed how his shoulder dipped to accommodate your height. Even when you weren’t actively seeking each other out, there was this unspoken pull. A brush of shoulders, a casual hand on the small of your back when he guided you through a crowded room, the way he’d rest his arm across the back of the couch when you watched movies, his fingers absently playing with your hair.

People noticed, of course. The teasing from his family was relentless whenever they caught wind of it. “So, when’s the wedding?” Dick would quip, smirking as Jason scowled but didn’t deny anything. Even Alfred had raised a knowing eyebrow the one time you’d stopped by Wayne Manor, Jason’s hand firmly on your lower back as he led you into the room.

Jason never seemed bothered by it, though. If anything, he seemed more protective afterward, like he was daring anyone to say something more. And you couldn’t blame them for assuming. The way Jason looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention—like you were the only safe harbor in a world full of storms—would’ve convinced anyone.

But for the two of you, it wasn’t about labels or explanations. It was about the quiet comfort you found in each other. The way Jason could hunch over and rest his head on your shoulder after a long day, letting you feel his weight and warmth as though he trusted you to hold him steady. Or how you could slip into his space, no matter how crowded or chaotic, and know that his presence was enough to make you feel safe.

You were magnets, constantly drawn together. And in a world that often felt too loud and too harsh, Jason was your soft place to land. Your best friend who made the world seem a little less intimidating, one touch at a time.

ADDITIONAL NOTE! hi lovely !! i’m sorry if this is too short but thank u sm for the request <3

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queenmuzz · 3 days ago

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WiP Wednesday: Another Link in the Chain

A Emmrich x Rook Angst story

It’s winter time, and Emmrich wants to go out, wants to skate the frozen river, wants to go out to play with friends. Twilight is fast approaching, but he doesn’t care. He’s eight years old, he doesn’t need his mother to go with him anymore, he’s a big boy, the dark doesn’t scare him anymore.

And that’s why he did his best to use the least amount of fuel to keep the fire burning. He might not be able to bring in money, like his mother's cooking, but he could help by saving a copper or two.

The door opens, bringing a gust of cold air as the tall lanky figure of Rupert Volkarin comes in.

“Father!” He throws himself at the man who laughs, catches him and spins him around.

“How’s my little Emmi doin’?” He sets him down with an exaggerated groan. “Not so little now either, eh?”

“My name is Emmrich!” He pouts even as he still clings to him like a toddler. Unlike other Nevarran children, he has no repulsion of the scent that permeates the man’s clothing. Yes, had heard enough from the older kids at school, the insults about his father’s profession. He really didn’t care. Sure, his father was a butcher, but that didn’t make him any worse than any father. He was just doing what he had to survive. He remembers seeing a Dalish Caravan passing through the countryside, and the way they revered the forest and trees, and yet they chopped down trees when need called for it.

“Well ‘Emmrich’,” his mother’s stern, yet loving voice comes from behind. "Your father is tired, and probably wants to clean up before supper. Would you be a dear, and heat up some water in the kettle? Enough for the wash basin and to steep the tea?”

He lugs the water to fill the kettle. It’s going to take a long time to heat it all up, and it’ll use up a lot of wood.

Emmrich thinks hard. He wants to go out with friends before bedtime, and he doesn’t want to use the precious fuel that his father and mother work so hard to afford. What if there was a way to…

Three things happen: An explosion of hot air, so powerful that it knocks him back across the room, into the wall.

The creak of the ceiling beam, always noisy on windy days, begins to shriek and crack..

And most alarming of all, a figure, cloaked and masked has suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The only distinguishing feature is piercing grey, almost silver eyes that are locked on him.

#dragon age the veilguard #veilguard spoilers #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #emmrook #I love me a time travel story

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monzamash · 2 months ago

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★ clearance — lando norris —send me a driver + concept and i'll pick a song or two to set the vibe

requested by v 💖 aka @spikershoyo (check out her brilliant lando fic)

smile you're on camera — the playlist lando norris x you

lando is definitely a guy who has a sex playlist. now, it's not just any playlist and it didn't exist before you. this is a intricately curated set of songs that make him think of you, undressed and teasing him endlessly until he can't take anymore. it's made up of the songs that make his heart flutter when he hears them, thinking about how sweet you would look dancing along to them in your living room, effortlessly gorgeous and goofy in equal measure.

there are also a couple songs reserved for those special nights where his old-school video camera comes out of the bedside draw and the clothes come off, a section of the playlist that he hits play on right before he completely succumbs to your seduction — songs to fuck to. it wouldn't be called that, obviously. maybe it's an emoji, probably the eggplant because he's silly like that or it's your initials with a flaming heart beside it. whatever it is, it's reserved for only you and if he's lucky, it'll be saved in his spotify library forever.

— link to playlist here ❤️‍🔥

ocean alley — knees nothing by thieves — miracle, baby chase atlantic — right here post malone ft. kehlani — feel zayn — dreamin the weeknd — lost in the fire charlie puth — light switch steelix — lay it down doja cat — rules miguel — sure thing

a/n — i love any excuse to talk about smile you're on camera and your request for spicy home video with lando vibes was begging for me to release a playlist of songs that inspired that fic. i also feel like they're all sexy lando-coded songs, ones that he would definitely want his home video to be soundtracked by.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #f1 imagine #end of (f1) season sale!!#monzamashmusings ✨#monzamashwriting #smile you're on camera fic

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niteshade925 · 5 months ago

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April 13, Xi'an, China, Shaanxi Archaeology Museum/陕西考古博物馆 (Part 2 - Shang and Zhou dynasty):

A 1:1 replica of a Warring States period (476 - 221 BC) horse chariot that was unearthed in an ancient tomb in Gansu province. The original artifact was made of lacquered wood, decorated with gold, silver, bronze, turquoise, and other semi-precious stones; it's basically the "Lamborghini" of its time. This replica was just sitting in the hallway in between exhibition halls, and it's very big:

Another one of my favorites, which is also one of the stars of the museum. These are called xizun/牺尊, which are animal-shaped bronze wine vessels (notice the lid on its back). This particular pair is "deer-shaped", but also has patterns on the sides that look like bird wings and paws that look like those of predators. Ugh they are so cute...🥺

A Western Zhou dynasty (1046 - 771 BC) "lunch box" made of bronze, called a luxu/录盨. It was found inside of a Western Han dynasty (202 BC - 8 AD) tomb, indicating that even Chinese people from 2000 years ago had an interest in collecting artifacts from earlier times

More bronze food/wine vessels from Shang dynasty (1600 - 1046 BC) and Zhou dynasty (1046 - 256 BC). Top one is called a gui/簋, bottom left is a gu/觚, and bottom right is a jue/爵. The tall-footed wine vessels can be used to warm up wine before drinking, by heating it with a small flame placed between the feet.

This is what a complete set of bronze vessels from Shang/Zhou dynasties looks like. This particular set, called "fanjin and thirteen vessels"/柉禁十三器 (translated as "Altar Set") is currently at the Met. This diagram below gives the name of each vessel:

Bronze chariot decorations with turquoise inlays. The bronze would have looked golden back then

A little bronze dragon. Cute.

Late Western Zhou dynasty pendant made of jade and agate beads called a yupei/玉佩, and from what I can gather, this one should be part of a necklace, which would be one heavy necklace indeed. I feel like a lighter modern replica might go well with sweaters though:

Left: necklaces, bracelets, and armlets from Spring and Autumn period (770 - 476 BC). Right: another jade and agate yupei from Spring and Autumn period, but this one was probably supposed to be hung from the waist.

This one is known as the Rui Gong ding/芮公鼎 or "Cauldron of Duke Rui", which is a bronze tripod ritual vessel (known as ding/鼎). It is inscribed with the text "内(芮)公乍(作)铸口宫宝鼎，万年子孙永宝用", which roughly translates as "Duke Rui cast this treasured ding, may his descendants use it for ten thousand years to come".

More bronze vessels. The top two are ding/鼎 vessels. Sidenote: notice the right one......does it look familiar? I'm pretty sure the rectangular ding is one of the inspirations for the design of TotK's temple of time. Also note the design patterns...I'm fairly certain these are the inspiration for TotK's aesthetics. TotK's Zonai script is also clearly inspired by Seal script/篆书 (I do want to make a post on this but my hands are pretty full atm)

Gold decorations on accessories:

An (incomplete?) bianzhong/编钟 (bronze bell set) and bianqing/编磬 set. The pentagonal stone chimes on the bottom are part of the bianqing.

A paper that studied the oldest face cream found in China (link to the article on Nature for those who have access).

Wadang/瓦当 (decorative roof edges) from Warring States period featuring various animals and mythical creatures, and their moulds:

#2024 china #xi'an #china #shaanxi archaeology museum #chinese history #chinese culture #ancient history #shang dynasty #zhou dynasty #spring and autumn #warring states period #bronze age #archaeology #history #culture

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drenched-in-sunlight · 4 months ago

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i checked the JP description of Malenia set & in the “[Miquella] possesses the wisdom, the allure, of a God” line, the word they use for “allure” is 「誘惑」

It can also be translated as “seduction”.

It’s the same word used in the DLC trailer for “seduction and betrayal” part.

Tbh, I have no crazy revelation on this. I were just thinking “why Malenia did not factor in “kindness” as a quality for a God to have when she described Miquella— oh shit which word did they use for “allure”.”

Somehow I knew it’d be the same word before I even looked up the rest

For me at least, “seduction and betrayal” has always been a general theme of what Godhood will entail.

The Fingers promised Marika power to avenge her kins & betrayed her by locking her into a cage of divinity (that brought her and her future family nothing but misery in the end), Marika accepted to be a vessel but at the same time tasked Hewg to make a weapon to slay a God (so she was always going to rebel against them), Radagon charmed Rennala then left her a husk of her former self, Miquella was seduced by the naive belief that Godhood would be the answer to all the problems but got betrayed by that ideal as it made him lose himself, Miquella charmed others and some of them felt betrayed when the charm was broken.

It’s a theme.

So this is not exactly news to me, but I think it’d be interesting to point that out.

(Like, if I’m to list out more: Ranni linked up with the Black Knives but later imprisoned Alecto when the deed is done, if you attack Fia before getting the mending rune, Godwyn’s body would attack you to protect her, but once the rune is finished (aka Godwyn achieved second life as Lord of Death), she could be murdered by D’s brother… & Fia was obviously infatuated with Godwyn.

If you write “seduction & betrayal” and draw a bunch of arrows from it… it’s pretty much in every demigod subplots. It depends on how one interpret certain events, yeah, but still.

Also: Rennala bewitching the Academy making them believe the Moon was equal to the Stars, the Fell God letting the Fire Giants borrow their power but curse them to tend to the flame for eternity, Bayle vs Placidussax, like… those whole other cans of lore worm?? Need I say more??)

#er brainrot #damn if I think too much about it everyone in ER is kinda a backstabber. even us. it’s funny alright 💀🗿#the irony of Miquella framing Marika’s ascension that way only for his own twin to use that exact same word about him. it’s poetry to me

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mj0702 · 10 months ago

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The other Bronze – Part 14

For Lunatic... I hope you're doing better and I hope you read this and find some comfort in it - mom and dad love you to the most and back Lunatic ♥️♥️

Sarina parked it just a little bit away from the hotel and turned in her seat to look at you

“We still need to talk Liefje” Sarina said sternly pulling you back into the car

“Don't worry – I found a weak link” you said happily

“Not what I was thinking about but.. good job” the dutch said “.. Leah said you tried to kill yourself – I want to know why”

“Seriously... I swear that was a one time thing and I'm better now” you said upset

“Not what I asked... I want to know WHY” the blonde stayed stricter

“I... I felt so alone... Lucy was gone... Keira just moved to Barcelona.... I mean the girls a great but... they're not Luce or Kei... somehow me stupid brain convinced me that they left and broke up because of me... and that they wouldn't care if I was around or not... so I got some pills from grandmas cabinet and just took them all...” you said not looking at the dutch

“... and then?” Sarina said lowly

“... I got scared... like... I suddenly knew that it was a mistake... so I wanted to call Hempo but I clicked the wrong number... got Leila on the phone.. I didn't knew her very well just in passing – but she came... she asked me where I am after I cried into the phone that I'm scared. I even called her Laurie... you know... she didn't KNOW me – but she came...and before I knew it I threw up... I'm basically still alive because of her... Lei then called Hempo... mills turned from that moment....” you recapped the night it all happened

“But why Liefje.... you know you could always come to me – or to one of us” Sarina tried again to understand you

“I can't tell you why Mama Rina.... I don't know... I just felt so alone... but I swear I never ever thought about it again” you stressed out

“If you EVER feel the need to do something like that again I want you to call me” the blonde took your hand strongly and with her second hand she made you look at her “Okay?”

“Okay... I promise...” you nodded lightly

“Good... so... that weak link....” Sarina smiled slightly

“Now or after dinner? Because I AM kind of hungry” you look embarrassed

Sarina laughed out loud but nodded anyway

“Of course Liefje... come on now” she laughed as the two of you exit the car

The dutch laid her arm around your shoulders pulling you into her side as the two of you walked the short distance to the Hotel. You laid your head on her shoulder enjoying the rare moment of peace you get with the head coach.

“Hey... hey y/n... we saved you a seat!!!!” you heard Tooney before you saw her

“Go” Sarina smiled lovingly as she released you from her hold

You sprinted over to the table quickly sliding into the chair between Less and Tooney before Keira or Leah could grab you. You sat opposite to your girlfriend sending her a small smile knowing Lucy was watching you two with hawk eyes. Suddenly you felt your chair being pulled back a little bit. You squeaked surprised as you felt the chair being lifted.

“You really think I would let you sit at the kids table??” you heard Keira as you looked up you saw Millie and Mary holding the sides of your chair about a foot in the air

“Sorry BB” Millie smiled apologetic “She has dirt on me”

“You can't be serious” you exclaimed trying to slip off the chair

“You will get the same food at my table” Keira said dry as she nodded her head and Millie and Mary started to carry you (chair included) over to the grown up table and dispose you next to your sister while Keira sat down to your other side

“I don't wanna sit here” you whined “This table is boring”

“Excuse me? Do I look like I care? The last time you three sat next to each other you got us kicked out of a restaurant” Keira said nonchalantly

“It was NOT our fault that the flame thingy fell over and set the table on fire” you said upset

“You prodded it the whole time even after I told you to leave it alone” Keira now growled

“I found it fascinating.. the flame was blue” you said ashamed

“Give up Bubs... you stuck with us for tonight” Lucy now sighed “She won't let you go back”

“You can overrule her... sister tops...” you said hopefully

“Oh Bitsy... your sister tops absolutely nothing” Keira smiled sweetly as she lightly slapped your cheek “Now eat”

You looked down on your plate and pulled a disgusted face

“What's that?” you prodded at your food

“Chicken” Keira said as she started to eat

“THAT is not chicken...” you pointed at the light hill on your plate

“That's the rice with sauce” Keira rolled her eyes “That is the chicken” she said as she pushed the rice a little aside

“And that green stuff... I don't do green stuff..” you argued again choosing the difficult route today – she wanted a kid. She'll get a kid.

“Spinach” Leah now answered as her best had her mouth full

“Ew no... not eating that” you huffed leaned back in your chair crossing your arms in front of your chest

“Suit yourself... go to bed hungry” Keira shrugged her shoulders “If you ever THINK of throwing a fit later because you're hungry you and I will have a private talk and you know these never end good for you”

“I want food... not... that” you pouted and whined

“Bitsy come on... you're not three... just eat” Keira said and you heard that she's about to lose her last nerve with you

Still you shake your head not moving towards the plate again

“Bubs come on... you haven't eaten since breakfast” Lucy now tried the nice approach – good cop, bad cop “You must be hungry”

“I AM... but I want something tasty” you whined

“It's very tasty... just try it... for me?” your sister spoke softly smiling hopefully.

“Hey Pumpkin... you interested in a deal?” now Beth interrupted the interaction knowing how important it was to get some food into you

“Listening” you answered and glanced at her

“Two forks equals one stroopwaffle... if you finish your plate – spinach included a whole extra pack” Meado smiled encouraging

“One fork one waffle” you shot back

“No can do... two for one...” Beth leaned back in her chair grinning

“Two extras at final whistle then” you tried your luck again

“I'll give you two extras if you eat your salad too” the brown haired woman smirked

“Okay now you're pushing it” you huffed out

“Two for one and an extra if you finish the plate” Meado leaned forward extending her hand.

“Two extras” you said seriously

“Nope... no deal” Beth said as she pulled her hand back

“Okay okay... two for one and one extra” you said quickly nearly jumping on the table to grab Beth hand “but from the good shop in Amsterdam”

“Deal” Meado grinned as she saw Keira mouthing a “thank you” towards her

You recutlanty started to pick up some rice and chicken with your fork. Everyone at the table knew you were a picky eater. Always have been and always will be – but if you had found something you liked you would eat like a harvester. But also you would go days without actual food if there was nothing you would find interesting. You carefully brought the fork to your lips just to feel the usual knot in your stomach putting the silverware down quickly

“No... sorry... can't do it” you said as you quickly stood up basically fleeing the table and the room.

Everyone looked after you confused. The first one who reacted was in fact Georgia as she pushed her chair back with such a force that it fell over backwards running after you. Lucy tried to run after the two of you but got stopped by Keiras hand on her arm

“Leave them...” the blonde said softly

“But what if...” Lucy tried

“If what...” Leah asked now

“If G takes advantage of her state – we know how fragile she is at the moment” your sister said a little stressed

“Excuse me?” Keira said shocked “That's G we're talking about – you know damn well this girl has a heart of gold and as big as five field... and she's not the brightest sometimes... she doesn't even know what it means to take advantage of someone”

“I'm just....” your sister defended herself

“I know... but you need to let her grow up... it's not easy for me either but let her be Luce” Keira said softly

You quickly sprinted outside the hotel actually jumping over some luggage which was standing around from guests just checking in. Once outside you looked around frantically as you saw the next best bush. You quickly got over there and just started to throw up. This was how your girlfriend found you. Hunched over a bush heaving loudly. Wordless she stood next to you rubbing small soothing circles on your back offering silent support. After a few minutes you got yourself up right again and leaned backwards against the wall

“What happened” G asked keeping her voice down

“Just got too much” you mumbled closing your eyes “Thank you”

“For what?” Georgia asked confused

“Coming after me...” you murmured suddenly feeling tired and exhausted

“I'll always come after you – and if I have to run to the end of the world” your girlfriend answered whispering as she both manoeuvred you into a sitting position

“Sap” you smiled with your eyes closed but leaning against her “We probably shouldn't be so close – what if fans see?”

“Let them... don't care” your girlfriend mumbled back “only care about you right now”

“You would...” you started

“Don't care... you're important to me, you know?” she interrupted you quickly knowing where this conversation would go if she'd let you go on

“You're important to me too G...” you said serious “... that's why we need to talk”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Georgia asked and you heard the panic in her voice

“No... no... but you might want to break up with me after that talk” you mumbled

“Did... did something happened... with someone... in Barcelona?” your girlfriend asked unsure

“Yes... that too... but not like you think” you sighed knowing you can't push that conversation further away anymore “But you need to promise me to let me finish and not interrupt me”

“Okay...” Georgia said carefully

You took a deep breath before you started to talk

“I'm telling you this because you are so SO important to me – not even Kei knows this... or god forbid Lucy... did I ever tell you why Leila and I are so close?” you looked at her and G shook her head before you continued “She saved me G... literally... she saved my life... two years ago, when Kei moved to Spain too... I felt so alone... I know Toons was there... and Less... and Leah... and all of them... but in the same time no one was there... it was bad enough to lose Lucy to Spain.. But I still had Keira... but when she moved too – it broke me G... I know she had to for her career... and I would never ever blame her for what happened but it broke me. I had no one to go to – I was still laborating on my ACL and I didn't know what to do. I fell G and I fell hard. I was rock bottom and I didn't know how to get back on top again...” you started to feel the tears threatening to fall “... so I got all the pills my mom had in her cabinet threw them all in a bag mixed them up and just took a handful... and suddenly I got so SO scared... the sensible part of my brain asked me if I'm bloody serious to choose the easy way out. Out of panic I wanted to call Hempo of all people – you know how she would react in a situation like that. She would panic herself. But she was the nearest to where I was. I pressed the wrong contact and Leila answered the call. Don't know why but she did. I didn't even realized my mistake and just started sobbing into the phone what I just did and that I'm scared and where I am and to please help me”

You were full on crying now. Not the loud outgoing cry, just silently as your tears run down your cheeks onto falling onto your shirt

“I don't know how much time went past but suddenly I got yanked up from the bench I was sitting on and the person just bend me over and made me throw up.... wasn't the nicest thing in the world. After I came by a little more I realized Leila was the one holding me bend over asking me if I think that it was all of it or if there's some left in my stomach because she WILL shove her fingers down my throat again if she had to... told her I think that everything is out and she basically carried me to her car. She told me she's going to get me into hospital and who she should call. Told her Hempo – I knew the chain would work its way to Leah. Leila got me to the Hospital told them what happened and they took care of me. When I woke up the next morning Leah and Meado were sitting next to my bed. Leah looked like death heated over twice. Meado wasn't far behind. I felt so guilty that I started crying . Woke them both up with my sobbing. Leah informed me that they'll take me back with them – already talked to my mom and dad about it. She also told me that they told them it's because she thinks a change of scenery would benefit me – dad agreed knowing how hard I took Lucys moving. Went back to London with them and god – Leah can be worse than a jail guard... I went to therapy... three times a week... it was always Leah or Beth picking me up afterwards... until it was Millie and somehow with Millie I just broke down. I held it together for Lee and Meado... but Millie with her calm persona and just being there – I think I cried for hours. Woke up in Meados guestroom... was the first time I met Viv officially as the girlfriend. It got better after that day – really better. Leah basically held me hostage for another six month – she even made me join her at the Arsefacility for light workouts. Let me tell you they have all that great stuff in their gym and still are shit” you smiled through your tears keeping your eyes fixed straight ahead staring into nothing so you didn't see your girlfriend crying too “ … and then a few days in Barcelona I had a full blown anxiety attack because Mapí played a ball wrong and it came at me. I got it under control played it back to Kei before even realizing what I was doing and then all of them were looking at me like I just scored a World cup winner... got to much and everyone of them saw.. I tell you because I know Sarina wants a friendly against Spain end to camp – when she announces it you act surprised – and they will ask if everything is okay... because that's how they are... It was weird at the begin...”

Suddenly your conversation got roughly interrupted by your sister who pulled G up by her shirt away from you already started yelling at her. You got scared for a second before you quickly jumped to your feet going after your sister who had your girlfriend pinned to the wall by now. Georgia was white her eyes wide as Lucy kept yelling at her

“What have you done Stanway??? I listened to Keira and let YOU go after her to find her crying her eyes out” your sister yelled in Georgias face pushing her harder against the wall

“Lucy please... it wasn't her” you begged your sister tugging on her arm “it wasn't her and it's not because of her... Luce please”

But it was no use since Lucy just saw red. She just came out to check on you knowing you always need air when you feel trapped. What she saw broke her heart and made her blood boil. She saw you crying and your girlfriend just sitting next to you doing nothing. It was irrational she knew but she swore to protect you and if it costed it the place on the national team than she would pay that price but she won't let anyone hurt you.

“Lucy.... please” you tried again as fresh tears sprung to your eyes and again your plea fell to deaf ears as your sister continued to ignore you in favor of yelling at your girlfriend

So you looked around for help and spotted Keira and Leah at the elevators on the other side of the lobby. You quickly ran over to the doors who opened and yelled through the hotel lobby

“Keira!!!” you hoped to get her attention. Your voice must have sounded so distressed that Keira turned around quickly – Leah following suit and she spotted you standing in the automatic door “Help” you said louder but not yelling level.

Keira took off towards you before you could turn around Leah hot on her heels as you went over and tried to get Lucy off Georgia again. Keira and Leah came exit the hotel and quickly saw what brought you to such distress. They immediately got into action mode pushing themselves between Lucy and Gs bodies. You were still trying to tug your sisters arm off Georgias shirt. Thank god Keira and Leah were much more successful (perks of knowing how to separate players from experience) and quickly got your sister and girlfriend separated. You immediately went over to your girlfriend who was still rooted in place shock and fright clear on her face.

“You okay?” you asked lowly “She didn't hurt you did she?”

“Just shaken up... didn't see that coming” Georgia said back lightly shaking

You let Keira and Leah deal with Lucy while you checked your girlfriend over once more needing to make sure she really was not injured. After you were satisfied with your check you turned around seeing Keira poking Lucys chest furiously on the other side of the entrance. Leah stood nearly in the middle of the two parties having an eye on both sides. She met your eye and you let her know that everything was okay and even tho G was shaken up she was not injured. At the way Keira was now waving her hands around and your sister looking ashamed and guilty you knew Kei was pissed and Lucy was at the receiving end. You saw Leah coming over to you and stepped into your field of vision

“Are you okay?” the captain asked concerned

“Yeah... just... got a little scared... don't know what got into her” you mumbled

“Keira is sorting it out right now” Leah said lowly “You okay G?”

“Yeah...” your girlfriend nodded slightly

“You want to report it to Sarina? Or want me to tell her?” Leah asked seriously “You're calling it G... I don't know what happened but I know you didn't provoke her so Lucy laying her hands on you...”

“No...” your girlfriend interrupted her friend “... I just want to talk to her... alone”

“Are you sure G?” Leah asked again

“Yes I'm sure...” Georgia nodded again “... I don't want her thrown of the team Lee... I just want to know why”

“Your call G...” Leah sighed and called over “Kei... lets go” before looking at you “You come with us”

“Da Fuck I will” you said stubborn

“Babe it's okay... let me sort this out okay...” your girlfriend said calmly

“I swear Lucy... if you even as much as look at her the wrong way I will end you” you sneered as you passed your sister getting pulled along by Leah

You don't know how much time passed as you watched through the big glass windows as your girlfriend and sister having a talk outside the hotel with you inside the lobby

“Calm down Bitsy...” Keira said as she pulled you into her side “... G's a big girl... she can handle it”

“I know... but Kei... Luce basically attacked her with no reason” you huffed but let Keira comfort you a little bit

“I know it sounds like a cheap excuse but... she just got scared about your well-being... I KNOW you are also a big girl Bitsy... but you'll always be her little girl... she's trying Bitsy... but seeing you cry made her snap” the blonde mumbled as she pulled you closer

“But it wasn't because of G... I told her what happened in Barcelona and I couldn't stop the tears... G had nothing to do with it” you said as fresh tears starting to form in your eyes “and she didn't listen... Lucy didn't listen to me... I can't do this Kei... I can't have my sister and my girlfriend fighting... or my sister fighting my girlfriend – she needs to stop”

“She will Bitsy... it just takes some time for her to come to terms with it... she's not good with change either – where do you think you got it from?” Keira smiled slightly

After what seemed like forever in your mind you got surprised as you saw your sister and girlfriend hugging. Not an awkward hug. It was a full on bear hug. Like the hugs you only accept from a few people in your life – full of love and unspoken promises. You watched as they parted again but Lucy kept her arm around Gs shoulders as they walked back into the lobby stopping right in front of Keira and you

“You two dating now?” you asked raising an eyebrow

“Yeah about that babe...” Georgia smirked playing along

“It's fine... I'll just take your best friend then...” you waved off starting to grin

“Does Leah know about this?” Keira now asked faking confusion

“Not talking about Leah” you smirked as you pressed yourself further into the blonde

“That... looks so wrong” Lucy looked horrified

“YOU asked me if it was Keira!!” you exclaimed accusingly

“and THAT was a genuine mistake...” your sister defended herself quickly “... but you made it looked like it was!”

“I was just wearing her shorts!!!” you bantered back

“What in our world means that you're basically engaged!!!” Luce fired back

“Where's my ring?” you turned to Keira expectantly raising your eyebrow again

“EXCUSE ME?!” Georgia exclaimed fake shocked “You're engaged and making moves on me?? Keira I swear I didn't know”

“Meeh... it's alright G... thought I give her the chance to get it out of her system before tying her down... because that's over then... and she was drooling over you for a long time” Keira waved off before all of you bursted out laughing

“Luce...” you said getting serious again “... you can't do that... you can't freak out like that again”

“I know... I'm sorry Bubs... It's just...” your sister tried to explain but couldn't find the right words so Keira helped her out

“It's not easy for us Bitsy... we love you so much and even if we KNOW that G would never ever hurt you – seeing you cry is hard for us” the blonde said as she started to scratch the back of your neck lightly “.... we went through so much together that we just want to protect you – and again... we know that that one wouldn't hurt you on purpose but still... seeing you crying and in distress just flips a switch... the difference is that I have WAY more self-control than your sister” Keira explained quietly

“I'll never hurt her I promise” G said quickly her eyes wide

“I know G... I know you'll never hurt her on purpose but there will be hurt... because that's how a relationship works – it's not always sunshine and rainbows... you both have to work for it and you have to communicate” Keira said serious “We'll always be there to support you and if you want give advice – you're both young and we know what it's like to be separated for some time...”

“Thanks Kei” you mumbled into her shoulder

“Always Bitsy...” she smiled as she pressed a kiss to your forehead “And G”

“Yeah?” your girlfriend asked weary

“For god sakes... grow some balls and defend your girl” Keira said sternly “Lucy can take some bollocking – because that will be something she has to deal with when we're back in Spain anyway”

“I have to what?” your sister asked horrified knowing Keira doesn't fuck about

“We'll have a talk when we're back... just you and me... in private” the blonde informed your sister who shrunk back a little under the intense stare of her ex-girlfriend

“Uuuuhhh... someone is in troooouuuble” you sing-songed snickering

“You want to be added to the list?” Keira raised her eyebrow looking down at you

“Yeah no thank you” you quickly said sheepishly

“Thought so... now off you go... it's late and it was an eventful day – I can see and feel the exhaustion from you” the blonde scoffed before pushing you off her slightly

“Luce” you whined and your sister immediately turned around to give you a piggy back ride

You unceremoniously climbed on her back letting her carry you to the elevator getting you to your room while Keira and G stayed behind

“I'm sorry for what happened G” Keira started

“It's okay Kei...” Georgia waved off

“No it's not G... it's not okay what Lucy did” the blonde interrupted her best friend quickly “... she shouldn't have reacted that way... and I promise you it'll never happen again I make sure of it... but I want you to understand that Bitsy is her everything – Lucy wouldn't think twice to jump in front of a truck for her... both of us wouldn't think twice but Lucy would be quicker. She went through so much and never actually talked about it or grieved you know – when she got the news of it being her ACL again and this time she's forced to stop playing... she just... sat there” Keira said remembering the day as if it happened yesterday “... she just sat there – 13 years old... blank face... shrugging her shoulders – Lucy and I kept it together until we were home and then first Lucy broke and then me... but her... she just – I don't want to say accepted it but she just bottled it up... she lost her spark that day – and slowly it's coming back... you are the reason for that G... you don't know it but you help her heal more than Lucy and I could in the last three years”

“I... didn't do anything” your girlfriend said confused

“You treat her right G... and that's enough for her” Keira smiled slightly

“I nearly didn't... you know... if it wasn't for her stubbornness” Georgia admitted shyly

“What do you mean? And yes... everyone with the name Bronze is stubborn as fuck” the blonde said rolling her eyes

“She kissed me you know... after the Euros... I was... drunk... but sober enough to kinda realize what’s happening... I pulled her outside the locker room and told her this can't happen..” your girlfriend explained to her best friend “... I told her she's too young and this isn't what she wants... she told me she may be young but she definitely knows what she wants... and that's me... she was so adamant... but I pushed her away a few time... until she showed up at me apartment in Munich – god only knows where she got the info from where I live – and just TOLD me that she won't accept me saying “no” anymore and she'll definitely won't let me run away and hide anymore... my whole self-control broke that moment....”

“So you did have sex with her before her birthday... because that's what she told Luce... that you waited till her birthday” Keira questioned

“No... god no... I didn't touch her that way before her birthday... I swear Kei... I mean there were some moments where it nearly got to that point but I stopped... I SWEAR K...” Georgia said quickly

“G... even if you did have sex with her before... it's in the past and nothing can change it... I know how the Bronze women can be... once they have something set their mind on it takes an army to get them to get them off the rails... it doesn't matter if it's Lucy or Bitsy or Sophie or Diane...” Keira smiled “... you will experience that in future a few times – and I wish you good luck and already feel sorry for you at the same time... but what Luce did earlier is still not okay”

“We talked it out K... I swear it's okay... she promised to hold back” your girlfriend assured

“You could talk to Sarina...” Keira said but this time Georgia interrupted her

“No... she apologized we talked it out... done and dusted... I understand her Kei... I really do... because if I see someone making me girlfriend cry I would snap too” your girlfriend waved off

“Great...” Keira mumbled “... another one I have to keep an eye on... the next time I get asked what I would do if I don't play professionally football anymore I say “zookeeper”... got plenty of experience in keeping wild animals under control”

Georgia burst out laughing and offered her best friend her hand to pull her off the couch. Keira accepted the hand gladly and let G pull her into a standing position.

“You're getting old Walsh” Georgia teased when Keira groaned getting pulled into an upright position

“No... I'm just over the whole shite” Keira grumbled as she turned around to leave

“Love you Walsh” G yelled after her

“Love you Stanway” Keira yelled back making Georgia smile

Lucy noticed you were asleep before you two even made it to your room. The way your head slowly sank deeper onto her shoulder was a clear indicator – as well as your light snoring and the occasional smacking of your lips. Your sister “knocked” on the door using her foot adjusting her hold on you. LJ opened annoyed but perked up immediately when she saw Lucy

“Yeah?” LJ asked

“Just here to deliver Bubs...” Lucy said being a little icy towards the younger player

“Oh... okay” LJ said stepping aside letting Lucy in

Your sister disposed you carefully and with practical ease on the bed and started to pull your socks and trousers off your legs

“She's 16... I think she's capable of undressing herself” LJ bit a little too harsh which caused Lucy to narrow her eyes at her teammate

“I am aware... but I also know her... look LJ... I don't know what your twos problem is but when it comes down to it – she's my baby sister... and whoever hurts her better makes his last will because I won't have it...” Lucy said seriously as she made sure your scars were covered quickly

“Lucy... I know that okay... and yes we're not really friends anymore” LJ started and Lucy snorted “... but I think we can be civil with each other.. I mean you and me know she swapped my cleats and I did nothing to her did I now”

“I really like you as a person and a player LJ...” Lucy sighed before pressing a kiss to your head “... but again.. she's my baby sister”

“We will figure it out” LJ said and if you weren't asleep you would've bursted out laughing – because from your side there was no “figuring it out”

“Morning” you greeted Meado at the elevators the next morning

“Morning pumpkin” Beth greeted back giving you a once over “You okay?”

“Gettin there... need coffee” you said slowly clearly still half asleep as you felt Meado putting her arm over your shoulders pulling you into her side

“Pumpkin I know you don't want to hear it but I need you to eat something too okay... I know you can go longer than 24 without food but it's not healthy” Beth said a little concern in her voice.

She as well haven't forgotten what happened two years ago. How Leah called her full on sobbing that she needs to get to Manchester as quick as possible but she can't go on her own because she probably would crash the car. Of course Beth immediately was on board picking Leah up not even 15 Minutes later. Leah was an emotional mess. Meado actually didn't find out what happened until there were about 30 Minutes out of Manchester. And when Leah finally told her – Beth nearly lost control over the car. So yes – your well-being also was important to her.

“Yeah I know... yesterday was just...” you started ashamed

“... emotional... I know...” Meado finished for you smiling slightly

“Morning” you heard suddenly as Keira stood behind the two of you

“Morning Kei” Meado said happily while you just grunt in response

“Come here Bitsy” Keira said lovingly opening her arms knowing you always need longer and more importantly physical contact in the mornings

The elevator arrived and all three of you entered it to go down to breakfast. One floor down Millie and Rach entered the elevator and you immediately whined for Millie to carry you. As usual you had everyone wrapped around your finger and so it happened that you got carried to the breakfast room where surprisingly Sarina waited for you with a coffee in your hand

“We need to talk, Liefje” the dutch said you still clutched to Millies back pushing the mug into your hands “So ex that and with me”

“What did you do to make the big boss angry?” Millie asked confused as she set you down looking after Sarina who was just leaving

“You're guess is as good as mine” you shrugged your shoulders downing the coffee shuffling after the dutch into an empty meeting room

“What can I do for you great masteress of lionesses?” you tried to lighten the mood

“What happened yesterday?” Sarina came straight to the point looking at you expectantly

“Huh?” you looked at her confused

“Why were two of my best players at each other throats AGAIN yesterday after dinner?” the dutch said and you knew not to fuck about

“There was a misunderstanding” you said carefully

“Elaborate” Sarina said seriously and you noticed she's getting angry

“I told G about what happened... two years ago... and in Barcelona... because I wanted to be honest with her... I started crying... I didn't even noticed I was crying... and suddenly Lucy was there having a go at G... but Kei and Leah took care of it” you spilled immediately trying to low the blow

“Okay... okay...” the dutch sighed out massaging her temples

“I didn't mean too” you said quickly feeling incredibly guilty

“It's not your fault... but I need to talk to both of them... this can't go on” Sarina said seriously “I can't have my squad fighting each other”

“I know” you sighed ashamed “... I don't know what's going on with Lucy... because G did nothing and Luce is constantly out for her...”

“Your sister is protective, Liefje” Sarina said softly “And it's hard for her to see you dating”

“But... I'm not a baby anymore” you said desperately

“Liefje... you were with her your whole life – there were rumours that you are her daughter instead of her sister” the dutch chuckled

“Ugh” you gagged slightly

“I want something else from you” Sarina now leaned against the big table

“Ehrm... I feel honoured but... Ehrm... you are a little to... experienced for me Mama Rina” you stuttered scratching the back of your neck

“Dear god kiddo... it's not all about sex in life...” the dutch rolled her eyes “... I want you to come up with a exercise for training – teamwork and communication”

“Why are you including me so much...” you asked a little confused

“Because I know how great you can be – you always sell yourself short... I want you to realize how amazing you are and live it” Sarina said softly “... and I want to inform you that we indeed have a friendly against Spain in 10 days”

“Yes... I really want to face them” you said happily “... I really want Less and Toons to meet Mapí”

“Liefje... I will put you on a leash you if you plan on doing something stupid” the dutch pointed her finger at you

“I just want to.... cultivate international relations...” you said carefully

“You want to cause trouble – I will talk to Lucy about your harness... what was the name?” Sarina waved off

“Bronzo” you murmured defeated

“Ah yes... now... I want you to come up with an exercise and a strategy for the game against Spain” the dutch said and you know your little “meeting” was over

“Yes Mama Rina” you sighed already thinking about different drills

“Oh and y/n?” Sarina held you back as you were about to leave

“Yes?” you looked up a little shocked

“Send your sister and girlfriend in” the dutch smirked and winked at you

“Will do” you smiled widely “With pleasure”

“BRONZE!!! STANWAY!!” you yelled when you entered the breakfast room and all heads snap towards you

“Big Bossies wants to talk to you” you nodded towards the meeting room

Both your sisters and your girlfriends face went white as they stood up walking slowly past you with Georgia stopping shortly

“Are we out?” G whispered lowly

“Don't think so... but I can't say for sure” you whispered back grabbing her hand and squeezing it encouraging

“If that's the case I'll still be around – we can invade Leahs apartment” Georgia smiled lightly but you saw right through it

“She won't kick you out.. she'll kick your ass and that's it... she knows it's not you who causes trouble... it's Luce” you leaned up quickly pressing a kiss to your girlfriends cheek

“STANWAY!!” now Sarina yelled down the corridor

Georgia quickly let go of your hand and ran down the corridor.

“They're in trouble?” Keira asked you as you plopped down in the chair next to her inspecting Keiras plate who immediately pushed it towards you

“Yeah.... somehow Sarina knows about yesterday” you mumbled “... hey Kei?”

“Yes Bitsy?” the blonde smiled at you

“Can I have eggs?” you asked embarrassed

“Of course Bitsy.. why do you ask?” Keira looked at you confused

“Don't know.... just feel like it” you shrugged your shoulders

“Come on Bits... let's get you some breeki hm?” the blonde smiled encouraging and pulled you out of your chair leading you over to the buffet

“Take whatever you want Bitsy.... just... don't load your plate Bronze style” Keira smiled as you went over all the option

“Eggs... bacon...” you mumbled to yourself

“Something healthy” Keira threw in

“Guac....” you mumbled deep in thoughts “Uuuuhhh.... donuts”

“No” Keira smiled sweetly

“But” you whined childish

“No Bitsy... take some fruit and we're good” the blonde grinned

“But you said whatever I want” you whined again

“No donuts... you didn't do anything today what would justify a donut” Keira said and you knew you lost the donut for good

You sighed heavy and took an apple from the fruit basket

“Uuuuhhh... mom put her foot down” Rachel laughed as you passed they're table

Keira pushed you to walk on when she noticed you wanted to start arguing with the blonde and lead you back to your table. After you sat down you looked down on your plate with the apple next to it. You picked up the apple looked at it for a second before throwing it towards Rachel hitting her straight in the back of the head which caused the whole table (especially Millie) to interrupt in loud laughter and Rachel to swear loudly. Keira scolded you lightly but smiled nonetheless

Lucy, Georgia and Sarina entered the room. The two players looked like drowned puppies while the Head coach smiled satisfied. Georgia immediately took a detour towards Tooneys and Less table which caused you to frown. Lucy sat down opposite to you and you watched her closely

“All good?” you asked

“All good” your sister answered before continuing to eat

“Okay Girls... this was a really good training so far” Sarina yelled over the field clapping her hands

“Our new addition here” she pulled you next to and in to a hug “will have the honour for the last exercise of the day”

All Lionesses looked at you expectantly and you suddenly felt a little shy

“I didn't agree to your offer” you mumbled shyly

“You will” Sarina smiled happily “I'm pretty positive about it – now go and show them what you got”

“Okay Ladies... and Lucy” you said loudly grinning after the little pep talk

“Hey!!” your sister exclaimed annoyed as the team began to chuckle

“Listen up... we're playing Hungry Hippo” you clapped your hands and Rachel “woohooed” loudly

“For everyone who doesn't know Hungry Hippo... it's simple... teams of three each... every team gets four balls... you have to defend your balls and also have to steal the balls of the other teams... team who is out of eggs first runs laps until the game is over” you explained quickly

“What's the goal of the game?” Niamh asked

“Goal of the game is to get all the balls in one “nest”... the goal of the exercise is teamwork and communication... you need to work together and communicate with each other” you explained “And before you ask... I put the teams together”

“Aaaawww maaaaan” you heard Less groan

“Walsh, Stanway, James” you rattled off ignoring one of your best friends

“Russo, Williamson, Toone” you smirked knowing you just got Leah back for the rooming incident

“WHAT??” the capitan exclaimed shocked

“YES!!” Tooney and Less high-fived

“Daly, Bright, Mearps” you continued and split all the players into teams

“Really?” Sarina asked under her breath but loud enough that you could hear her “Walsh, Stanway and James?”

“Kei and G are pissed at James – rightfully so but still need to learn to keep it off the pitch” you mumbled back

“Genius move – I need you in my team” Sarina smiled

“And you will.. I want Jill Scott as my guardian” you said off handy

“Done” the dutch answered quickly and smiled widely

“And we will talk about numbers... I want a good salary” you smirked at her

“You haven't even seen the contract and already start hackling?” Sarina laughed

“I saw Lucys contracts over the years... they were shit..” you pointed out

“We'll talk about it later... now let them run” the blonde dutch smiled and you grabbed her whistle successfully pulling the short woman closer to you and blew that whistle hard

Immediately there interrupted chaos on the field and you couldn't help but laugh loudly when Lucy rugby tackled Rachel to the ground who tried to steal a ball from your sisters nest. The little game continued for some while – for a hot second it looked like Keiras team was loosing since they did everything than communicating with each other but the recovered quickly and got some balls back. You also saw how different the teams approach their tactics to defend and retrieve. Team Bright for example had Mearps AND Bright on defending egg duty while Rach zipped around stealing balls. Lucys team had only Lucy for defence and Lotte and Meado for retrieval. It was honestly too funny and you turned around to the media team

“Oi edits.... get some footage of that... fans will love it” you laughed as they quickly scramble to get some of the chaos on video

“Hey.... hey you” you shouted over to a guy who stood there a little lost and when he turned towards you you waved him over

“What's your job here?” you asked but still keeping an eye on the field

“I'm... a trainee” the dirty blonde said shyly

“Okay... perfect... go get coffee for the big boss and myself.... she takes it black like her soul – strong... basically like oil... I want a latte” you said smiling

“Where do I find coffee?” the young bloke said getting even more shy

“In the meeting rooms should be coffee machines.... just... take some from there” you looked a little unsure yourself “Oh... and what's your name?”

“Finney... friends call me Finn” he now smiled getting a little more comfortable talking to you

“Yeah no.... I'll just call you Fren... we're Frens now” you waved off “everyone who brings me coffee is a Fren”

“Okay... I promise I bring the best coffee I can find” he smiled before sprinting off

“Already abusing your status I see” Sarina smirked next to you

“Don't tell me you had enough time this morning to actually fulfil your caffeine fix” you said rolling your eyes

“Of course I didn't... I had to put your sister and girlfriend through the wringer AND put them on probation.... I was THIS close to put them on the naughty step” the dutch mumbled annoyed

“I would have paid to see that” you bursted out laughing “OI STANWAY.... STOP PULLING LOTTES PANTS DOWN!!!!”

“JEALOUS???” Lotte yelled back holding onto her shorts for dear life with Georgia hanging on the hem of them shorts trying to pull them down once again

“Not at all” you yelled back laughing at their antics “She already knows how comfortable the couch is...”

You saw a few seconds later how team “Two best idiots + Leah” lost their last ball and you grabbed Sarinas whistle (and Sarina) again whistling loudly. All Lionesses froze in their place and you grinned

“I really enjoy this” you said loudly smirking evilly “... Capitan oh Capitan....” you said dramatically “... your team is the first loosing all their Hippo eggs... so... you and your mates.... off you scramble... laps until the game is over”

“You can't do that” Leah growled knowing fully well you actually can make her run

“Oh but I can... I said beforehand the first team without Hippo eggs will run laps, Williamson” you smirked enjoying having the upper hand for once extremly “... sooooo... run”

Less and Tooney already jogging away from you knowing they wouldn't get out of it anyway so they just accepted their fate. Leah on the other hand was adamant to prove a point now looking at Sarina

“She can't do that” Leah said sounding a little like a small child

“She can... I gave her the task of finding a exercise for teamwork and communication – which she did – and I authorized it.... she said before you all started what will happen and you lost.... get going Leah...” Sarina said calmly knowing when to back you up and when you can defend yourself

Leah started to jog away still mumbling and growling under her breath

“Thank you Mama Rina...” you mumbled as you accepted your coffee from Finn

“No need Liefje... you were in the right and just because Leah wants to pull the capitan card doesn't mean she can do that all the time” the dutch said softly also accepting her coffee from the young lad.

The leftover players on the field were still looking at you expectantly and you realized you didn't restart the game

“Sorry guys” you smiled embarrassed

“Wait...” Grace (Clinton) said quickly before you were able to blew the whistle again

“Yeah Hillary?” you looked at her smirking

“First... please don't....” she sighed “second... what does the winner get?”

“Oh... winner gets the afternoon off – and gets a cheat meal extra” you smiled shrugging your shoulders

“Excuse me?? I didn't agree to that” Sarina exclaimed surprised

“Yeah well... I just thought of that” you looked at her apologetic

“The things I let slide with you” the dutch rolled her eyes and waved her hand for you to continue

“Love you Mama Rina” you smiled pressing a soft kiss to her cheek

“Yeah yeah” the blonde murmured but a smile tugged on the edge of her lips

You blew the whistle again and immediately there interrupted chaos again – the game ended with a tie (you were made to stop it by Sarina) between Team Walsh and Team Bronze. Which surprised everyone – especially you but you did internally congratulate yourself for fulfilling the task of brining the team closer together.

The Bus ride was mostly quiet except for Georgia and Esme (who was on Lucys team) discussing rather loudly what they would have as their cheat meal with Rachel throwing in Gs direction

“Little Bronze doesn't count you know... you can eat her as much as you like” the blonde smirked and immediately got Lucys dirty sock thrown in her face while you bursted out laughing next to Mearps and Georgia turning fire red once again. Back at the Hotel everyone went to their rooms to shower and get ready for Lunch and eventual media assignments. Lunch went over without a hitch – if you ignore the fact that your sister shooed your girlfriend away again – and soon all of you got the plan for the rest of the day.

You entered the room which was officially dubbed the “common get together”-room finding Lucy, Keira, Mary, Less, Tooney, Niamh, Meado and LJ (who you honestly could do without) chilling around. Some of them were lounging on the couch while Tooney, Less and Niamh were placed at the table playing with some Legos. You made a beeline for your two bestest friends as Keira looked up from her book

“No” the blonde just said knowing letting you sit with them would end up in a Lego fight and you'd throw pieces at each other until one got either hurt or cried

“Keira cooooome ooooon” you whined which caused Tooney and Less to look up

“Yeah Keira... cooooome ooooon” Tooney whined too

“Come here Bubs” Lucy said from her place on the couch stretched her hand towards you trying to get you to come over to her “Wanna show you something”

“You can always show it to LJ” you pulled a face and your voice was laced with venom

“Huh?” your sister looked at you confused as you turned around now marching towards Tooney like you were on a mission

“Bitsy” Keira warned you raising her eyebrow in challenge

“I'm just gonna sit here” you said annoyed and the blonde noticed your grumpy mood

“No Lego fights!” the blonde looked at you threating

“Okay mom” the three of you answered simultaneously grinning

Soon after Less got called away by the media team for some... whatever, you didn't pay attention. Tooney and you continued to build on your Lego castle but as usual after like 30 minutes you both got bored

You just looked at each other communicating without words – like always. You both stood up at the same time looking around until your eyes fell on the dart board that was hung up on the other side of the room. Tooney and you tried to be as sneaky as possible as you slandered over to said piece of fun without noticing Keira watching every step you took. Just as you were about to pull the third dart out of the board so Toons and you could play a hand reached over your shoulder taking all darts away

“I told you... no sharp objects” you immediately reconized the voice of one Keira Walsh

“They're not sharp...” you pouted as you turned around to look at her with your best puppy eye look

“No pointy objects either” Keira smiled sweetly and you knew it was fake as fuck

“But... Tooney and I wanted to play” you pouted

“Tooney is banned from pointy objects too” the blonde just said hoping to end this topic

“Tooney is what?” Ella said confused

“The last time you whined for a WEEK that your finger nearly fell off” Keira rolled her eyes “So no darts for you either... find something else”

“Oh yeah.. I forgot about that... it was really close for me finger to fall off” Tooney said as she remembered her last interaction with darts

“Your bloody finger was fine” you exclaimed

“Bloody... that's the word you should emphasize... so much blood” Ella sighed

“Less nearly broke my nose.... THAT was bloody... your finger was just... trickling blood” you said upset

“If you don't stop to one up each other immediately I'm going to put you in different corners of the room” Keira interrupted your “fight”

“Sorry mom” both of you said

“Gosh... can't you two play nicely with each other for once?” the blonde rolled her eyes

“We tried... you wouldn't allow it” you tried to reason with her

“No sharp or pointy objects” Keira said again “Find something else”

You looked over at Tooney who just shrugged her shoulders

“Uh... there's a bowling thing in the basement... can we go bowling? Nothing sharp, nothing pointy” you said excited as Tooney started to beam

“Not without a responsible adult around” Keira said “And I'm not going down there with you”

“Millie and Rach are down there... I think” you said as you tried to convince Kei

“Lucy?” the blonde turned around to your sister

“Yeah?” Lucy looked up from her phone where she (most likely) texted with Ona

“I just spoke english did I?” Keira asked her ex

“Ehrm... yes? Why?” your sister asked confused

“Good... I just thought I switched to spanish without noticing it when I said them two nobbheads won't go bowling in the basement without a responsible adult and Bitsys answer was Millie and Rachel... I just wanted to double check that I in fact did use the english language” the blonde said and you groaned behind her knowing she just shut down your idea

“Oh no... you definitely spoke english” Lucy smirked

“Mary??” you asked hopefully looking at the keeper

“Yeah okay...” the tall brunette rolled her eyes but smiled noneless “I'll take you bowling”

“YES!!” you high fived Tooney “Mary counts as responsible, right?” you checked with Keira

“Yes... Mary counts as responsible” the blonde sighed actually hoping you'd find no body who would go with you so she could keep an eye on you

“Woohoo...” you cheered chasing after Tooney who already was sprinting towards the door

“No running” Mary yelled after you but it was no use as she stood up following the two of you

“I'll give them 20 Minutes” Keira said plopping down next to Lucy on the couch

“Naah... Mearps is good... Bubs respects Mearps.... 30” your sister grinned as she started a timer

32 Minutes later the door of the common room got kicked open and Mary carried you bridal style inside to cross the room with quick strides. Tooney was following after you apologizing profusely while you whined into Marys neck

“32 Minutes and 17 seconds” Lucy looked down on her phone grinning stopping the timer showing it to Keira

“Should we follow or just ignore that something went horribly wrong... as always when these two are left to their own?” the blonde sighed looking expectantly at Lucy

“Naah... she has Mearps with her...” your sister waved off smirking knowing you'll throw an absolute fit once one of the physios wants to touch whatever limp is hurting at the moment.

A minute later the door opens again and Mearps head appeared

“Luce... Kei.... Help... please? She bit the new physio already” the brown haired keeper pleaded with her teammates

“Rock paper scissors?” Lucy asked raising her eyebrow

“2 out of 3 or at first go?” Keira just asked back already getting ready

“First go... we don't have the time for 2 out of 3” your sister said getting ready as well.

“Okay Bubs... why are you causing trouble again?” your sister sighed as she entered the medic room “And what happened in the first place?”

“I want Keira” you sniffled

“Yeah well... Keira won rock paper scissors so here I am” Lucy shrugged sitting down on the exam table next to you

“Tooney threw the bowling ball on me foot” you whined and Lucy REALLY needed to bite her tongue to not burst out laughing – leave it to Tooney and you to actually get hurt by a bowling ball

“We just wanted to take a look but she wouldn't let us touch her foot” one of the Medics explained to your sister

“It's okay... I got it” your sister smiled as she sat down further down on the table putting your foot into her lap which caused you to whine and try to pull away

“No Bubs... let me look” Lucy said softly starting to undo your laces and carefully pulling your shoe off your sock following just after the shoe

“Okay... I'm no medic but it doesn't look broken...” your sister said looking up at you “We'll just let the pros have a look at it okay Bubs”

You knew it was a rhetorical question but that doesn't mean you couldn't answer anyway

“No no no no no” you shook your head quickly

“Yes... come on Bubs... just a quick once over and we're out of here again – I'll even get you some cookies” Lucy said softly knowing you needed reassurance right now

“Okay... but I want a donut... the chocolate one” you mumbled

“Of course” Lucy chuckled nodding to the medics

Just as she promised they just did a quick once over put some tape on your foot and told Lucy you should keep weight off it for at least 24 hours before sending you on your way again. Your sister knew you would be stubborn about letting her help you so she quickly grabbed you before you could slide down from the table and carried you down the hall

“Lucy let me down” you yelled annoyed as your sister carried you into the common room

“I will...” Lucy said calmly looking for a place to dispose you “Stop wriggling”

“Now...” you grunted trying to get out of your sisters hold

“No...” Lucy grunted back “Kei help”

“Just put her down on the beanbag” the blonde said already coming over

“Keira...” you whined loudly

“Oh Bitsy... what have you done now?” Keira sighed seeing your taped up foot

“Toons just doesn't know how to bowl” you huffed crossing your arms over your chest

“I TOLD you to be careful” the blonde scolded

“I WAS... I stood behind her... ball needs to go forward.. not my fault she doesn't understand the rules” you grumbled back

“I'm really sorry” Tooney said from the table where she got placed down by Mary “gently” (gently means death glare and pointed finger)

“I know you are Toons” you grinned “You got me donut”

“Excuse me??” Keira exclaimed looking at your sister annoyed

“She was good... she deserves one” Lucy defended herself knowing by Keiras look that the blonde didn't agree

“Just like always Lucia” Keira snarled “You don't have to deal with her when she gets all hyperactive because of the sugar – you just sleep or disappear”

“I'll be good Kei... I promise” you said quickly not wanting that Keira and Lucy fight

“I know you Bitsy... you won't... so you can have your donut... tomorrow... and in small pieces” the blonde said strictly

“But...” you started but got shut down immediately by Keiras killer glare “Can I play Lego with Tooney?” you asked instead sheepishly

“You hate Lego” the blonde answered as a matter of fact

“There's nothing else to do” you whined

“You can just leave your ass seated for a hot minute” Keira sighed loudly throwing her arms in the air annoyed

“That's boring” you whined making grabby hands towards Keira

“Seriously Bitsy.... you and Tooney are a guaranteed headache” the blonde said but helped you up nonetheless

“y/n... Tooney... you up for some media contend?” a voice suddenly asked from the door

“YES!!” you and Tooney exclaimed quickly as you tried to hobble away from Keiras prying hands as quick as possible

“Great... we have something fun planned...” the man you named “edit” (because he edits all the contend for the Lionesses social media) grinned widely

“You need my approval” Lucy yelled out just as you and Toons slipped through the door letting it fall shut loudly

“Okay guys... first you gonna introduce yourself and then we gonna explain what you have to do” edit says as if you two did media for the first time

“We know how this works Steve” Ella rolled her eyes

“Okay... then... go” the black haired man said

“Hi guys... I'm Ella Toone” Tooney smiled brightly

“.. and I'm the smarter and better looking Bronze” you grinned into the camera

“You have a name you twat” Ella said hitting your shoulder

“I know I do... but I AM the smarter and better looking Bronze” you huffed back shoving Ella so she nearly fell of the chair

“Okay... so here's what you two will do today” one of the media guys explained from the background “Ella we going to blindfold you and we play a little taste test”

“Why am I getting blindfolded??” Tooney whined loudly while you grinned

“Because you so ugly they don't want their lenses to crack” you laughed

“Shut up” Ella shoved you hard pushing you successfully off your chair and you took the table down with you.

Tooney looked down at you shocked but a second later both of you exploded laughing

“Oh god... we should've paired someone else” one of the media guys said desperately already seeing this go horribly wrong

The staff help you up again and set up the table again before giving you a Lionesses scarf and tell you to cover Ellas eyes with it. After you done your bit and actually tested that Toons really doesn't see anything by pretending to hit her multiple times you grinned happily back into the camera

“What now?” you asked excited as you got handed a take out box

“Now you just have to feed that to Tooney and she has to guess what it is” edit says pointing to the box

You opened the box looked inside and immediately gagged loudly before closing it again.

“What?? What is it??” Ella asked alarmed

You opened the box again and now even just the smell resulted in you gagging even louder (the gag that comes from way down) – you felt like you nearly need to vomit

“y/n... you can't do that... stop gagging” Tooney said seriously already feeling her stomach tighten

“Sorry... but... no... no” you said again pulling your shirt over your nose heaving again

“STOP IIIIIT” Ella whined

“This stuff is making me heave... I can't stop” you gagged again turning away from the take out box “I swear Toons... I would be livid if they made me eat that...”

“Stoooop” Ella now whined desperately “You can't say shit like that and expect me to eat whatever it is”

“Okay... okay...” you breathed deeply reassuring – not Ella but yourself “okay... this isn't gonna be nice okay Toons... just... swallow it... don't taste it just swallow it down... ready?” you asked having a little bit of the brown substance on a wooden spoon

“Fuck me” Toons looked unsure

“Trust me Toons... just... down” you said unsure as you lined up the spoon with roughly Ellas mouth

“But...” as soon as Ella opened her mouth you shoved the spoon into her mouth pulling it out a second later

“Get that away from me” you pushed the take out box harshly so it nearly tumbles off the table before looking at Ella again who actually started to chew a little bit

“Toons... just swallow it... you're not a fucking gourmet” you exclaimed disgusted

“What is it?” Ella asked trying to guess the right flavor

“It's dog food I swear... it looks like the stuff Lucy gives Narla... Caesars or something” you said starting to heave again

“It's not...” Tooney said convinced “It's pâté... or something”

“THAT'S Pâté?” you asked confused since you were sure it was dog food

“It's not Pâté” one of the guys said from behind the camera

“IT'S NOT???!!!” Ella screeched

“Told you... it's dog food” you said offhandly

“It's chicken paste” the guy said

“Oh... oh... it's not bad actually” Tooney said nodding

“No... if you ever bring that near me again I'll break you legs” you gagged loudly again

Half an hour later the two of you left the media room and Tooney helped you hobble down the hallway.

“I swear Toons... it look like dog food” you mumbled needing to concentrate on your good foot

“But it was tasty” the brown haired girl said softly as she held you upright

“Hey” suddenly someone stood in your way

You looked up to see your girlfriend leaning casually against the wall

“Need a lift?” she smiled at you softly

“I would take a ride too” you winked and this time it was Ella who gagged loudly

"You know... I'm just gonna call you Georgiaswifey from now on" Tooney huffed as she helped you onto your girlfriends back

(if you want to see the inspirational video to that media moment of bb and Tooney...

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C0M5xD0oapm/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==)

#lucy bronze x reader #keira walsh x reader #woso image #lucy bronze #lionesses x reader #georgia stanway x reader #sarina wiegman

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minkdelovely · 5 months ago

Text

catharsis

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“we are more

than our disguises,

we are more

than just the pain.”

Alastor x Lucifer ; RadioApple ; MDNI 18+

tags/warnings: angst (w/a happy ending), established relationship, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions/allusions of abuse, mentions of death from illness, sexual content (biting, blood/blood play, kissing, palming)

word count: 2.5k

author’s note: guess who’s writing angst again?? this kinda hit me out of nowhere, but is fully inspired by @sunlit-mess / SOL 1 x 1 (on twitter) recent works (linked HERE and HERE) with alastor seeking luci’s comfort. seeing these back-to-back just set something off in my mind and i couldn’t rest until it was out. a special thanks and shoutout to our darling @fraugwinska for helping me get a title on this baby — without her y’all would have been reading ‘untitled’ 😂💖 quote is from twin flame by weyes blood. without further ado, buckle up and dive in; i hope you enjoy 😌 (also posted on my ao3 if that’s your preference)

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

It was surprising, even to himself.

Alastor couldn’t recall the last time he had cried, much less in front of a witness. Composure and a display of strength were hard-won attributes he had built upon himself. Each unpleasant memory in his mind was a brick in his fortification; the tears he denied himself to shed the mortar between them.

He hadn’t always followed his own code of conduct and taken the ugliness of life on the chin. Before he had found his own strength, he could admit to being swayed by the will of others. Alastor found words to be harsher than the switch and was more than familiar with the sting of both. Though the switch was a boy’s punishment… A closed fist was more suitable for raising a man.

Or so his father had thought.

Mama’s boy… Just my luck. I got me a mama’s boy... C’mere you little pansy!

The repulsion in his father’s words hadn’t lost any of its potency, even after all this time. Alastor recalled them with more clarity than the face of the man they came from, which only served to plunge him further in his despair. Hadn’t he proven his resilience? Not only in body, but in mind and spirit? Perhaps not as much as he thought, with the way he was sobbing. If his father could see him now — bereft of stoicism and drenched in tears, drool, and mucus — he’d have been absolutely disgusted. Alastor loathed how much that bothered him. The fear of inadequacy lurching in his gut like a bad tonic.

Hot, angry tears flowed down the streaks that shame had carved on his face. Not that Lucifer would be able tell the difference with the way Alastor had burrowed into his chest. It was merely a fresh bout for the candy-striped vest to soak up. The saline fabric was beginning to chafe Alastor’s face, but he didn’t feel ready to surface; arms tightening around his lover’s waist as his hands gripped Lucifer with a desperation he assumed was buried long ago with his innocence.

Stop hidin’ behind your mama and come take your whoopin’ like a man!

Alastor choked on another sob and gasped for breath, heaving in Lucifer’s arms as the angel held him firmly. Gloved hands petting red hair and anguished, downcast ears. Hushed words of comfort spoken into the crown of Alastor’s head to soothe in tandem as they both shook from the force of the demon’s sorrow.

“I’ve got you. Shh, honey, I’ve got you.”

So much love conveyed in so few words. Alastor still grappled with accepting it. Evidenced by more tears fighting their way through his clenched eyes and a muffled, heart-wrenching cry into Lucifer’s chest. The pain of it went straight through the King’s heart as he pressed a firm kiss to Alastor’s head, feeling the distress on his face as he did so. How he wished to unburden the demon of his suffering. More than anyone, Lucifer could understand what it was like to be wracked with such melancholy.

If only Alastor could remember what had set him off, if he had, in fact, been triggered at all. He had just woken up this morning feeling low. Why was he dwelling so much on things that were better left to the past? Unbeknownst to either of them, they were sharing the same thought. And both knew that dwelling on things that couldn’t be changed did nothing other than inflict harm. Must they be plagued by the ignorance and rejection of their fathers for eternity? The cost of the scorn they’d endured seemed to grow ever higher some days.

That was one of the first things they had bonded over, sharing self-deprecating laughter to hide from their aching wounds. When love is built on a foundation of hurt, it’s only a matter of time before the walls crumble. Most times they were Lucifer’s, and sad as it was, it felt much easier to navigate. The angel was much more comfortable wearing his feelings, after all, and he’d had millennia of experience weathering his storms. Alastor was no stranger to being the shoulder to cry on. If anything, it came to him too naturally; a trait he couldn’t be sure was born in him or a side-effect of the wall he had built.

When Alastor buckled under the weight of his grief, it was devastating. He repressed himself for such long bouts of time that the force of his woe had the impact of an avalanche. Sadness, anger, shame, and regret cascading through his lithe frame until he was utterly hollowed out. Lucifer’s task of mending him was only beginning, he knew. It would be days before Alastor returned to himself, but he was more than willing to put in the work. Stitching his love back together with his needle of assurance and thread of devotion.

It was impossible to tell how long they spent this way. Alastor kneeling on the floor between Lucifer’s legs, knees sore and body aching, face still smothered in the drenched clothes donning the angel’s chest. Lucifer on the sofa in their bedroom, comforting the demon with every ounce of strength he could muster.

Until finally the tears stopped, replaced with uneven, sometimes stuttering breaths and hiccups. And soon enough those were gone too. Lucifer’s right hand rubbing Alastor’s back as his left cradled Alastor’s head. Before long, the demon was stirring. Sniffling a bit as he nuzzled his face into the mess of fluids he had left on the King’s vest and shirt. Lucifer didn’t mind, knowing that he could have it all gone with a snap of his fingers, but it wouldn’t do any good for Alastor to try wiping his face on his clothes in the state they were in.

“Let me clean your face, love. You’ll get a rash if you stay there,” Lucifer chided softly, manifesting a warm, damp handkerchief as he bent down to kiss Alastor's forehead for good measure.

It wasn’t a very convincing threat, both of them knowing that if Alastor did suffer a rash Lucifer would heal it in an instant. But Alastor conceded, and gingerly peeled himself away from the safety of the angel’s chest. His poor face was raw from tears, eyelids chapped red with irritation; dried salt crusted his cheeks like the vestiges of sea foam on the shore.

Alastor knew he looked awful. He could see himself reflected in Lucifer’s eyes proving as much. Every bit of moisture his body had was soaked into Lucifer’s chest, and he could feel the headache promised by dehydration blooming in his forehead. He was wrung out and exhausted but nearly began crying again, too moved by the tender act as Lucifer gently wiped his face. His Sire hushed him, voice calm and gaze full of adoration. Not even bothering to clean himself up before ensuring that Alastor was taken care of first.

The swell of affection Alastor felt in that moment was overwhelming, and he swallowed thickly as he closed his eyes, succumbing to the comfort of his lover’s hands tending to him. His father’s cruel words fading into darkness with every soft swipe of the warm cloth.

You’ll find someone special someday, mon amour.

Alastor was grateful for his mother’s memory, and wondered — not for the first time — what she would think of Lucifer. She had been a God-fearing woman, after all. A fear that she did not pass down to her son, choice of partner aside. He had turned his back on God long before his eyes had set their sight on the fallen angel. If she could see him from Heaven, he hoped that she would be happy. The Devil wasn’t all he was made out to be, if the way he cherished Alastor wasn’t proof enough.

His mother never pestered him about settling down, but worried for him deeply when they realized that she was sick and wouldn’t be getting better. Alastor was self-sufficient by then, with a year of working at the local radio station under his belt. Not that he didn’t take her concern to heart. If anything, when it came to her, he took things all too seriously. He wasn’t weighed down by the need for partnership or marriage, especially not when his career still had traction to gain. Alastor would try to tell her as much, assure her that she had nothing to worry about, and they would drop the subject and speak of other things. But he never left the sanatorium without receiving her prayers; his large, warm hands looking almost comical in her frail, cold grasp. Her hold on him was as fervent as the words and wishes she spoke to someone Alastor knew wasn’t listening. Though that didn’t make the act any less sincere or appreciated.

It was a brand of care Alastor thought he would never know again after his mother finally succumbed to her illness. The near-decade that passed after this had only cemented that fact. He didn’t seek companionship nor did he deny it when the mood struck. But beyond his small circle of friends, Alastor was content with his solitary life. Besides, a partner or spouse would have only made his nighttime affairs much harder to juggle — if not damn near impossible — and having the reputation of an elusive bachelor only helped with his fan base when it came to his radio segment.

It wasn’t until Lucifer had broken through his defenses that Alastor understood how he had barricaded himself from the world. And that he wanted support and comfort and understanding more than he cared to admit.

There are things you need that you can’t take care of on your own.

Basked in the warmth of Lucifer’s affection and his mother’s memory, Alastor hummed and opened his eyes, a tired smile curling his lips. Lucifer smiled back at him, expression benevolent and soft as his hands found their way back into Alastor’s hair to resume their petting. And grateful as he was, Alastor couldn’t ignore that Lucifer had yet to address the mess setting into his clothes. He fought against the pain as he uncurled his fingers, stiff from the grip on Lucifer’s waist, and silently began unbuttoning the candy-striped vest he had come to adore as the angel’s signature.

“Hey, you don’t have to —”

Alastor stopped him with a kiss, his fingers continuing their work as Lucifer sighed against his lips. The tension in both their bodies deflating as they shared hungry pecks and inhaled each other’s breath. All the while, Alastor’s hands remained busy with the undoing of buttons. First on the vest, then on the white shirt beneath it. Each open button providing relief like the snapping of a taut string.

Perhaps it was the musician in Alastor subconsciously rising to the task, but Lucifer would never cease to be caught flat-footed by the demon’s impeccable timing. How Alastor’s fingers managed to perfectly sync with his kisses was a feat Lucifer could only describe as divine. As if the acts were always meant to be one, never separate. It made the golden blood in his body turn molten; roiling through his veins as he sighed and chased every touch with relish. He was not often given these affections without needing to ask, whether with a look or an outright plea. Games that Lucifer was content to play, knowing that anticipation and a good tease left them both more than satiated.

With the collar of Lucifer’s shirt loosened, Alastor straightened his back and bent his neck to suckle and kiss down the angel’s pristine throat. The demon took his time with this, hoping to convey his gratitude and desire with every press of his lips against the milky skin beneath them. When Alastor made it to the junction between neck and shoulder, he was unable to resist the urge to sink his teeth in; the flesh yielding to his fangs like a ripened peach, and the nectar that soon coated his tongue was a gift in itself.

Lucifer hissed through the bite, hips jerking in space between them as Alastor groaned and languidly sucked and licked the blood rising from the wound. With his hands free from buttons, Alastor let them explore. How he adored the feeling of Lucifer’s small frame beneath them. Endlessly fascinated by the twitches and sounds he could elicit from the angel with little more than the slightest drag of his claws against sensitive skin.

Alastor released himself from Lucifer’s neck with a salacious pop and licked his lips for good measure. The whine that escaped Lucifer from the action had Alastor’s ears and groin at attention. The low creaking sound of antlers branching out mingled with their shallow breath. Alastor’s crimson eyes drank in the almost bashful look on Lucifer’s face, accented by a golden flush that made his abdomen tight with hunger.

How lucky he was, truly.

The silver lining of Lucifer’s descent was heavily in Alastor’s favor. Had Lucifer remained God’s favorite, he’d be in Heaven — a place Alastor had never planned to be. In truth, he never intended to be in Hell either, which is where luck came into play. He wasn’t destined for mortal companionship, but for something transcendent. Not a god to worship, but a sin. A king.

An angel.

“I’m unworthy of your benevolence,” Alastor lamented, desperately kissing and kneading the supple skin of Lucifer’s chest. “But I’m devoted to you, always.”

It was a sentiment he had expressed before, feeling much like Mary Magdalene washing Jesus’ feet with her tears. But it made Lucifer’s heart jump all the same; its rapid beat calling to Alastor like a siren from under skin and bone as his teeth latched to Lucifer’s breast. Their pleasured moans harmonized as Lucifer cupped the back of Alastor's head, encouraging him to continue with a whisper of his name. Alastor happily obliged. Tongue lapping at the pert nipple, hot and fervent, as his mouth and teeth provided a deliciously sharp suction, drawing out the ambrosia in Lucifer’s veins.

Lucifer struggled to remain cognisant, lost and overwhelmed as Alastor’s mouth peppered a trail of kisses from right to left. Alastor shifted slightly between Lucifer’s legs as teeth sunk into the top of his left pectoral just as Alastor’s left hand palmed his groin. The wanton cry that echoed off the walls of their bedroom only served to make Alastor desperate for more. Eagerly succumbing to his need to worship the angel, the agony he had suffered earlier behind him but not forgotten.

An offering of gratitude and declaration of fidelity in a language they shared when words failed. When adoration was beyond articulation and the only thing strong enough to quell their aching hearts was propinquity. The evening had started with Alastor falling apart in Lucifer’s lap… but it would end with Lucifer falling apart in Alastor’s hands.

And they would wake in the morning with tangled hair in wrinkled sheets. Sharing hushed jokes and lazy kisses as the early morning sun colored their room in a hazy, pink glow.

Healing each other one day at a time.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmiccandydreamer, @hyperfixations-keep-me-going, @cherry-cola-100, @wonderlandangelsposts, @catticora, @velvette3, @sailorsmouth, @reath-solia, @junieshohoho, @cxrsedwxrlds, @littlebluefishtail, @hazelfoureyes, @sugoi-writes, @nxcxllxsevens, @swagkittybear

#alastor x lucifer #alastor x lucifer angst #radioapple #radioapple angst #radioapple fan fiction #radioapple fanfic #hazbin hotel fan fiction #alastor x lucifer fan fiction

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