#this whole time he’s been lying about how he’s doing it and i know we shouldn’t have just trusted him 😭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrm0rgansw0man · 2 days

Note

hi !! can i have a more angsty arthur fic of the reader admiring him from afar and wanting to give him all the love he’s deserving of but feels she doesn’t have the chance to ? :)))) happy ending would be nice maybe arthur reads a note of hers !

god i love writing angst. LETS DO THISSS

hope you enjoy!! Xx @risingtripletaurus

I can let you down, I can make you Hurt.

Bitter, freezing cold. That was all you felt. Just the cold and the ache in your heart. Your whole chest ached, from the cold or from the emotions you were feeling you didn't know.

This whole Blackwater fucked up mess was just what you needed. You had already been struggling, being new to the gang and trying to help out and earn your keep. And, not only that, but Arthur Morgan hated you. You were sure of it, you had no clue what you did to offend him but just until right before this mess he started pulling away from you.

He was always friendlier with all the women of the camp, but you and him had taken a liking to each other. But one day, it just stopped. The hellos. The cups of coffee he'd bring you every morning. The shared cigarettes. The random talks, it was so nice. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't fallen for him. You though he could be falling for you too, but looks like you were wrong. You knew it was too good to be true.

"You're so down." Charles said simply. You looked up at him, not even having noticed he came into the cabin you had been sitting in.

"I can practically feel it in the air around you." He continued. Your eyes flit away from him and back to the floor. You watched a few snowflakes melt into your boots.

"Why do you care?" You asked quietly. "I'm sure you've got much better things to worry about than my problems."

Charles shrugged. "Just wanted you to know I'm here if you want to talk. I'm not doing much lately, cause of this hand. So I've noticed more."

Tears welled in your eyes. You blinked them away before you thought Charles could notice. But he still did.

"I've never seen you like this before. I'm worried about you, (Name)." Charles said. His voice more stern now. "Ask anyone, it feels like and looks like, no offense, that the life has been drained out of you."

"It's jus' the cold..." You mumbled. "I'm fine Charles.."

"You know, I was sitting in this cabin with you for hours. You didn't move once. You didn't even know I was here, did you? And Abigail came in to try and talk to you, but it was like you were in a whole different world."

Uh oh. Fuck. He's got you there. You didn't even know Charles had come in, let alone Abigail.

"Have you ever had to love someone from a distance Charles?" You asked weakly. You finally lifted your head enough to meet his eyes.

"No." Charles said with a sigh. "But I can't imagine it's a great feeling."

"It's not." You said with a sniffle. "Not at all."

"Can I ask who it is?" Charles asked you cautiously.

You let out a choked cry. You took a few deep shaky breaths, trying to keep yourself together. It was getting harder and harder by the second. God dammit Charles why do you have to care?

"Arthur." You whispered, wiping away the few tears that managed to escape your eyes. "It's Arthur."

Charles didn't say anything, he only nodded. So you kept talking.

"He was so kind to me when I first started riding with you. We got on real well too." You said, finally starting to weep. Who cares anyways? "I started falling for him. Quick and hard, and could you blame me?"

"No, I was convinced he was sweet on you." Charles admitted. Though all it did was send more tears floding out of your eyes.

"He'd bring me coffee in the mornings. We'd talk. He always said Hi to me at the very least when we crossed paths." You said softly. "And he made sure I was eatin'- I mean you know how I was when I first got here."

"Always sick and thin as paper." Charles said grimly, having been on of the few people that helped take care of you during that hard time.

"Neither of us sleep very well, he'd come find me or I'd go find him. We had such nice talks on those nights, he opened up to me. Like really, really opened up to me. And I opened up to him too." You continued, your cries becoming harder and your voice rising.

"I don't know what I did!" You cried. "But one day it all just stopped! He wouldn't talk to me, he hasn't even looked me in the eyes Charles! I don't know what's wrong with me! I just want to love him!"

"Oh (Name)..." Charles started, but you cut him off.

"He deserves so much Charles!" You sobbed. "He is such a good man, no matter what he says when he looks in the mirror! I just want to love him, he doesn't even need to love me back! Do you know how pathetic that is? How disgustingly pathetic I am to love him like this!?"

You inhaled and exhaled at a frantic pace, running your hands over your tear soaked face. It was too much. You couldn't breathe. You wrapped your arms around yout face and buried yourself in your knees. Charles rushed to your side, kneeling down next to you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders and just stayed there, giving you something to hang onto. Keeping you grounded.

You finally lifted your head and met Charles's eyes, only to find them already locked on you.

"I just want to love him. T-that is all I w-want." You managed to get out between sobs. "And now I've lost m-my chance! I can't keep going like this Charles! He's- he's been through so much. That poor man has suffered and s-suffered and I just want t-to make him feel like he deserves something!"

"Arthur-"

"Needs me! And I need him to need me because look how badly I need him! If he doesn't love me the-then what am I supposed to do?!"

You broke apart, sobbing harder than you were before. Probably harder than you have ever cried in your life. Charles caught you, and he wrapped his arms around you. He let you sob and scream into his chest until you couldn't breathe.

"I just want a chance I just want a chance! I want to know what I did wrong!" Was all you could say, over and over again. Charles rocked you back and fourth, letting you cry yourself out. It took at least an hour, but eventually your cries had lulled to a stop.

Once your breath had returned to normal, Charles spoke.

"I'm going to go get Miss Roberts and Miss Gaskill. They'll take care of you. I'm going to talk to Arthur, don't you worry about this for another second." Charles said soothingly. It was all you could do to nod a yes at him. He pulled away from you, but right as he was about to reach the door you called out for him.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" You asked horsely. Charles looked back at you and gave you a small smile.

"First of all, I like you. Quite a bit, your a good person (Name)." He said simply. "And secondly, you haven't moved from that spot for over a day and you haven't even noticed. Someone needed to do something."

And with that, he left. You sat in silence until Abigail and Mary-Beth showed up. They tried to talk with you but you didn't have the strength to even reply to them. They accepted this, and helped you to your room and laid you down in your cot.

You laid there for what felt like hours, completely lost in thought.

"Glad to see your feelin' better, Miss." Arthur said, handing you a tin cup filled with scalding hot coffee. You took it gratefully.

"Thank you, Mr. Morgan." You said with a smile. "I've got to say I'm liking your company more and more each morning you visit me."

"Oh don't be too flattered, your jus' the only one up as early as me." Arthur said with a smirk, playfully elbowing you in the side. You chucked and hoped Arthur didn't see the blush spreading across your face.

"Well a girl can dream!" You said, that same flirty smirk crossing your face.

"Arthur! I need to talk to you!" Dutch called.

Arthur groaned in annoyance. He turned to leave, but at the last moment he turned back. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it.

"Meet me at the campfire tonight. We never get t' talk without gettin' bothered." Arthur said. You nodded your head happily as he turned to leave, running of to do whatever the hell Dutch wanted him for.

You felt yourself smiling at the memory, even if it was just a weak one.

That night at the campfire was the first of many, you two met every night you could. And that was when you truly began to fall for Arthur, those nights by the burnt out campfire. The last night it happened, you told him about your life before joining the gang, and why you were so sick when you first arrived.

"No one in my family was right." You said with a deep sigh. "My daddy hung himself in our living room right before my mama had me. And since then she just never had any happy in her head."

"Jesus.." Arthur mumbled. "Was your Mama good t'you, at least?"

"Pfft, no!" You said with a laugh. You took another swig of whiskey from the bottle Arthur stole from Pearson for you. "Beat me halfway to hell every other day. I think she had some disease. Think I might have it too, honest to god."

"D'ya really think that?" Arthur asked, taking a swig of his own whiskey bottle.

"I jus' get so low sometimes.. Not enough happy in my own head." You said sadly. "Not something I can really help, but it happens. Part of the reason I was so sick when I first got here, that and being out in the elements."

"What a woman you are, Miss. (Name)!" Arthur said with a laugh. "Survivin' yer' Mama, survivin' runnin' away into the wild, and survivn' yourself!"

Arthur and you spent a lot of time talking about your past life that night, so much time you had finished that whole bottle of whiskey. Bittersweet tears filled your eyes as you remembered what happened next.

You stood up from the ground, and wobbled your way over Arthur and poked him in the chest.

"Tell me, Mr. Morgan!" You slurred. "What have you survivedddd?"

"Oh sweetheart, we ain't got time for that tonight." He said, shaking his head at your drunken boldness.

"Pleaseeee Arthurr??" You whined, a wrong step sending you tumbling down into his lap. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively, and you smiled happily. It was a giddy childlike smile that Arthur would never forget.

Arthur had no idea what possessed him to do so, but he gulped down the last of his whiskey and started talking.

"My mama died when I was real young..." Arthur said, his voice going quiet. "My daddy was a thief, a petty one at that.. Wasn't even a real father. He wasn't good t'me at all. The lawmen got him when I was jus' eleven."

" 'M so sorry Arthur..." You said, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tight. He rested his chin on your head and returned the hug, god it was so nice to be held like this. To be able to feel freely.

Arthur had no clue why he was so drawn to you from the very start, but ever since he first laid his eyes on you he couldn't get enough. He knew he was a goner, but he'd be lying if he said the thought didn't terrify him. Hell, sitting here like this with you terrified him! But even with the fear in the back of his mind, he could feel the whiskey clouding his thoughts and what little remained of the walls he so constantly put up crumbling.

Arthur went on about his family for a bit, and then told you all about getting taken on by Dutch and Hosea. He told you about what a deliquent he was, told you about when they brought John in. And Miss. Tilly. Then he told you all about a girl named Mary Linton, and about the love they used to share. You listened intently to every word, even in your drunken state. You prayed to whatever god above that you remembered this all tomorrow.

"I had a boy once." Arthur said, after a long stretch of silence. "His name was Issac. He passed on, though."

"Oh Arthur." You whispered, finding his hand and holding it tight. "I'm so sorry!"

"Some bastards killed him 'nd his Mama. Eliza." Arthur said, his voice breaking. "Shot 'em. All for a measly ten dollars."

"What is wrong with this world.." You murmred. Arthur just shook his head.

"I wasn't there f'him much. I shoulda been a better father to my little boy..." Arthur mumbled, his words starting to slur. "I was good to them when I was 'round, but that doesn't make up for nothin'. I'm a horrible person, (Name)."

You sat up, moving your legs around Arthur so you were straddling him. You grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

"Did you love his Mama? Did you treat her well?" You asked fiercely.

Arthur nodded his head frantically. The change in you startled him.

"Did you play with your boy? Did you hold him? Did you tell him stories, or sing him to sleep?" You pressed on, even with the tears forming in Arthur's eyes.

"Y-Yes!" Arthur said, stumbling over his words. "He was small, but he still liked to run. He liked being held-"

Arthur stopped, a strangled cry escaping his throat. You took your hands off of Arthur's face and wrapped both of your arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms back around you, burying his face in your hair and neck. Arthur thought that he should want to leave, but he realized he'd rather be buried alive then leave your arms right now.

"His favorite was 'Hush Little Baby'" Arthur said softly, you could feel the tears falling from his eyes now. "I was so happy to sing it to him the last time I...."

You sat up- which scared the wits out of Abigail and Mary-Beth-and covered your eyes. Trying to block out the image of what came soon after that.

The comfort you brought Arthur. The way he held your face in his hands. The kiss, so passionate. You both tasted of lust, whiskey, and pain. It was a fiery mix of emotions that sent you both stumbling into his cot and ripping off each other's clothes.

And then he wanted nothing to do with you.

"Honey? What's wrong?!" Abigail said, she wrapped her arm around you and Mary-Beth took your hands off of your face and held them.

Charles had given them a brief explanation of what had happened, but they were anxious for him to get back. They wanted to know what Arthur had to do with you being in an absolute state. They sent each other worried glances.

"When will Charles be back?" You asked with a sniffle. You leaned into Abigail and held Mary-Beth's hands tighter.

"Shouldn't be much longer, I promise honey." Abigail said.

"Want to tell us what's wrong?" Mary-Beth asked softly, she was testing the waters.

You looked between your two friends, and smiled weakly. God, you loved them so much.

"Okay."

»»———-　　———-««

"Arthur? Are you here?" Charles called out before going right into Arthur's room.

Charles found Arthur sitting on the edge of his cot. He was reading a letter.

"What is it, Charles?" Arthur said, still not looking up from the paper in his hands. Arthur didn't even seem like he was listening to Charles.

"Put that down. I need to talk to you." Charles said, his voice becoming more serious.

Arthur re-read the words written on the paper one last time before looking up at Charles.

'Arthur, please tell me whatever I did. I just want to talk to you again. Please, just talk to me whenever you read this. Your true friend, (Name)'

"You know, (Name) isn't doing good. She's been sitting in the corner of her room, curled up. Not moving, not talking. Nothing." Charles said simply.

Arthur's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. Charles continued.

"I sat there with her for hours, and she didn't move a muscle. I watched Abigail come in and try and talk to her, but it was like she was talking to a wall." Charles said. "And that was after Molly had tried to talk to her for hours the night before. She's the one who came and got me."

"Is..is she alright?" Arthur asked, his nerves evident in his voice. He knew this was his fault. He could feel it in his bones. Oh god, he was a fucking idiot,

"No! She's not alright!" Charles snapped. "She barely even looks human! When I finally got through to her all she could do was cry! And she was crying about you!"

"No.." Arthur said softly. "Where is she now? I need to go see her-"

"You can go see her when we're done here." Charles said sternly. "Arthur, did you know she was in love with you?"

Arthur ran a hand over his face. Oh great, now he'd really done it.

'I'm such a piece of shit..' Arthur thought to himself. 'God.. Oh my god..'

"No." Arthur said. "I jus' thought... I don't know what I thought! I jus' didn't think she loved me."

"I just want to love him. He doesn't even need to love me back." Charles said with a sigh. "That's what she said to me, while she was sobbing so hard she couldn't breathe. And then 'I just want a chance! I want to know what I did wrong!'"

"I get yer' point!" Arthur shouted. "Jesus christ..."

"She's broken. Between having to be here, the whole mess in Blackwater and you completely disregarding her, she is broken." Charles said.

"I KNOW GOD DAMMIT I GET IT!" Arthur shouted, standing up from his cot. Charles stood firm, crossing his arms over his chest. He had said his part, now it was Arthur's turn to speak.

"Does.. Does she really love me?" Arthur asked weakly, taking off his hat and running his hands through his hair. Charles nodded. " I thought she was just' sweet on me a little bit, I thought I was jus' sweet on her.."

"Do you feel different now?" Charles asked. When he joined this gang, he never expected this would be the role he took on. Oh well.

Arthur stilled for a moment. He knew how he felt about you. But how could he even say it out loud, knowing how love had turned out for him in the past?

Mary had to leave him. Her father hated him because of his life as an outlaw.

His love for Eliza and his child only got them shot.

How could he condemn you, someone who has suffered and suffered, to a life with him? He wanted nothing more than to make you feel loved, protected, and cared for. He wanted to hold you like he did that night, to keep you close. To kiss away all your pain and never let you feel like you don't deserve it. Because you deserved the world, Arthur just didn't think he could give it to you.

And he was scared. He was so scared, so instead of being a decent fucking human he ran. And now look at what he did to you. Sent you right back to that dark part of your mind where you never wanted to be stuck in again.

"Yes." Arthur said finally. "But, how could I even try anythin' with her? I don't want nothin' happening to her cause of me! She deserves so much more than I can give her!"

"Arthur, I don't think you understand." Charles said with a deep sigh. "She doesn't want more! She isn't expecting anything of you! All she wants is. you."

"Why does this matter to you anyways! Who are you, t'come in here and talk t'me about this!" Arthur spat. "You have no right-"

"Yes I do!" Charles said, his voice rising. "I took care of (Name) when she first joined us, so I'll continue to take care of her now! She can't function! She needs you, Arthur! And I have a feeling you need her too."

Arthur stood there, glaring at Charles. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to scream foul things at him, for getting into his head like that. But he also wanted to thank him. For being there for you while he failed miserably.

"Figure it out. And then you go see her." Charles said coolly. "Don't go see her like this, she's not strong enough."

Charles left, Arthur's cold stare practically ushering them out the door. Arthur stood there for a few more moments, not really knowing what to do with himself. Charles had sent his mind reeling.

He knows what he wants to do. He wants to go to you, hold you, kiss you, tell you how sorry he is. Tell you that he loved you so much but he got scared, and instead of facing it like a man he ran like a boy. He never wanted to hurt you, but look how bad you were hurting now!

You loved him. And he loved you, but Arthur ran away and now would you ever be able to forgive him? He hadn't even told you he loved you! Arthur was sure he had already ruined everything. Not to mention the two of you slept together, which Arthur didn't even know if you knew it happned or not you were both so god damn drunk!

Arthur sat down and sighed. He took out the letter you left for him to find. He read it again, only this time he stopped over a certain line.

"Just talk to me."

It echoed in his mind. Arthur could practically hear your voice, begging him to talk to you. And he knew what he had to do. Arthur folded the letter up and placed it neatly in his pocket, before placing his hat back on his head. He made a beeline for the hut you were staying in with Molly.

»»———-　　———-««

You had just finished telling your sob story to Abigail and Mary-Beth when Charles returned, not even giving them a moment to react.

You didn't even look up at him when he came back, feeling so weak having to relive what happened with Arthur yet again.

"He's coming. I don't know when, he needed to collect himself. But he'll be here to see you, (Name)." Charles said softly. You nodded, reminding yourself to go and thank him properly when you were better.

"Miss Roberts, Miss Gaskill, please stay with her until Arthur gets here." Charles asked them. Of course they agreed. And then Charles left, god he needed a drink.

Abigail and Mary-Beth stay there with you, wrapped up in blankets in your cot. It was a comforting couple of minutes of silence before Arthur practically broke the door down and rushed into your room. Abigial and Mary-Beth said some hurried goodbyes to you before rushing out of the room.

You knew Arthur was there, but you couldn't look at him. You continued to lay down on your cot, wrapped up in blankets and facing the wall.

Arthur looked at you for a few moments, before taking a deep breath and starting to speak.

"(Name)" Arthur said softly. "Can I uh.. May I sit with you?"

You rolled over slowly, and forced yourself to meet Arthur's eyes. They looked just as broken as yours did when you looked in the mirror. You nodded yes weakly, and Arthur sat down on your cot next to you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you closed your eyes. Arthur saw the tears flowing from them.

"I'm so sorry honey." Arthur said with a shaky sigh. "I should never have pushed you away like that."

"You fucked me." You spat, opening your eyes to look at him. "You fucked me! And then you wouldn't even look me in the eyes!"

"You know!?" Arthur gasped, completely shocked. He didn't think you were sober enough to remember what happened that night.

"I OPENED UP TO YOU ARTHUR!" You yelled, finding the strength in your anger to sit up in your bed. "I GOT CLOSE TO YOU- I LET YOU IN! YOU KNOW THINGS ABOUT ME KNOW ONE ELSE DOES!"

Before you even knew what you were doing, you got up and started pounding your fists against Arthur's back. He was caught off guard, so you got a couple solid punches in before he turned around and grabbed you by the wrists.

"You FUCKED ME! AND THEN YOU THREW ME TO THE SIDE LIKE SOME WHORE! YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU! AND ALL FOR WHAT!? ALL FOR WHAT ARTHUR MORGAN!? IS THAT ALL YOU WANTED FROM ME FROM THE START!?" You cried, not knowing when the shouting stopped and your tears began.

You fought to get your wrists out of Arthur's grasp. But he wouldn't let you go. In fact he held on to you tighter, pulling you firm against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tight and without even knowing what he was doing started peppering your head with kisses.

You punched, you sobbed, you screamed, you fought like a bat outta hell trying to get out of his grasp. But Arthur wouldn't let you go. He took every hit, every foul name and every insult.

Eventually, your thrashing stopped. Your sobs turned into small shaky breathes, and instead of punching him your arms were wrapped around his neck and you crawled into his lap. Arthur started rocking you back and fourth, and was whispering comforting things in your ear.

"I didn't know you remembered.." Arthur said softly. "Honey.. I thought I took advantage of you. I didn't think you'd wanna sleep with me if you were sober."

Arthur felt you softly shaking your head, but you didn't speak. So Arthur kept talking.

"I never woulda' acted how I did if I had known you remembered that night." Arthur whispered. "And, I can't lie to ya' honey. I was afraid. I didn't feel worthy of somthin' like what we had going on. I wasn't thinkin' right- actually I don't think I was thinkin' at all."

"Do you love me?" You asked, your voice a broken whisper. "Arthur I have loved you from the first moment I saw you. You know just as well as I do that there is some type of connection between us that we didn't even spark ourselves. Everyone saw it happen before their very eyes."

Arthur looked down at you, and you were looking up at him already. You looked like a scared little girl, and it broke Arthur's heart. How could he have done this to you?

Arthur swallowed thickly. It was now or never. He was afraid, but his fear meant nothing. Nothing mattered when it came to you. Arthur couldn't bare to lose you, especially not like this.

"Yes." Arthur breathed out, a small chuckle leaving him. "God, I love you so much. Please forgive me f'being such a goddamn moron-"

Before Arthur could continue, you grabbed Arthur by his coat collar and pulled him down into a passionate kiss. Arthur moved his hands to cup your face, using his thumbs to wipe the tears that fell from your closed eyes.

You kissed until the both of you needed to pull away for air, and then Arthur kissed you again. He never thought he'd be able to feel your soft and loving lips against his own ever again, so he made sure to savor every moment.

Once you had both caught your breath, Arthur sat there. He held your face in his hands. The love in his eyes sent a blush to your cold and tear stained face.

"I love you (Name) (Last-name)." Arthur said, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "S'much. More than you'll ever know. More than I'll ever be able to show ya' sweetheart."

You let out an airy laugh, and for the first time in a long time you felt like you could breathe. Your chest wasn't heavy anymore and it felt like your heart was actually beating.

"But I sure as hell will try. Like you said, there is somethin' between us that's not even we could control." Arthur said softly. The smile on his face sent butterflies to your stomach. " 'M so sorry I made you feel so horrible. I'll do everythin' I can to make this right. To make us right, honey."

"It's okay.." You whispered. "It's not entirely your fault, y'know I'm sick anyway-"

"Which is another reason why I shoulda' been smarter!" Arthur said, his voice soft still but also firm. He pulled you into another hug. "I need to keep the happy inside your head."

"You remember that?" You gasped. You were deeply touched that he had remembered something so small.

"I'd have to be dead to forget any of the talks I've had with you sweetheart." Arthur said, his tone nothing but truthful. You smiled into his chest, his words made you feel like you were floating on a cloud.

You both sat there in a comfortable silence, Arthur gently rubbing your back and rocking you back and fourth. You had your eyes closed, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Arthur noticed a shift in your breathing, and he knew you had fallen asleep.

As quietly and comfortably as he could, Arthur shifted so that you were both laying down again. Arthur wrapped you up in a blanket and let out a content sigh. This felt so right. So perfect. He was still scared, but he couldn't let it keep him from you. It was better to be afraid with you, so you could learn and grow together, instead of pushing himself away and hurting the both of you.

"I'm gonna give you the world, my sweet girl. Jus' you wait and see.." Arthur whispered. He planted a kiss on the top of your head, before drifting off himself.

»»———-　　———-««

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this! ive literally spent all my free time on it the past few days lol i got wayyy to invested into this, but are we suprised at this point??? Xx

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #x reader #arthur morgan x reader #red dead fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #angst with a happy ending #angst #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan rdr2 #lots of angst #but also lots of love #arthur morgan angst #fic request #sad with a happy ending #sadnees #arthur morgan fanfiction

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runawrites-blog · 2 days

Text

But It's Not Time (Levi x Reader)

Summary: After getting injured during a scouting mission, you are trapped in a tree to await rescue. Thankfully, you're not alone because your captain, old friend and the object of your affection, Levi Ackerman is there to help you until backup arrives. But as time goes on and your state worsens, you two start to worry whether or not you will make it. (Gender-Neutral Reader) Word Count: 2,915 Warnings: Talk of Injuries and Blood. Angst. No Y/N. A/N: Guess what fandom I added to the list of stuff I write for! You'll never guess, I bet! No, but in all seriousness, I added AOT/SNK to the lists of fandoms I write for, so feel free to request something for that fandom, as well. I'll write it as long as it's for adult characters and you adhere to my 'What I Will Not Write' list. The lyrics at the beginning of this are from the song "The Gambler" by Fun which is one of my favourite songs and fits so well. I really hope this isn't OOC by the way because it is one of my first times writing for Levi.

---

You swore you’d be here ‘til we decide that it’s our time

Well it’s not time, you’ve never quit in all your life

So just take my hand, you know that I will never leave your side

---

“You’re lying to me.”

You looked up at Levi, ignoring the pain in your leg, the way your wet clothes clung to you and how cold you were from the storm around you. He looked back at you, still standing on the branch of the tree you had been hiding on for the past hour. Your pained expression and slight shivering must have alerted him to the fact that you were not as fine as you’d told him you were.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you injured?” Levi asked sternly, looking down at where you were sitting against the trunk of the tree. “Do not lie to me.”

“I told you. I think I twisted my ankle.” You lied, shaking your head dismissively. “I’ll be alright. What we need to worry about now is looking out for titans and for other Scouting Legion Members that could help us get back to base.”

“I am your squad leader and as such I would like to know the truth.” He said but when you just averted your eyes withtout answering he decided to change his tactics. “Besides being your squad leader, I am also your friend, aren’t I? You always refer to me as such. Shouldn’t you be honest with your friends?”

He was right and you knew it. You two had been friends for years, had gone through the hardest of battles together and had only grown closer as a result. And it would’ve been a lie to deny that your feelings had grown past those of friendship in the last few months. You couldn’t lie to your friends, to the man you cherished and had fallen for. Besides that, the pain in your leg was also getting worse and you decided to tell him the truth.

“I-- I think that I actually hurt my leg quite-- quite badly while falling down from my horse. And I’m sure I’ve made it worse by-- by jumping up and trying to go after my horse. The straps of my maneuver gear are pressing on it though, so-- so I should be fine.”

“And why would you not tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you. I don’t think the bleeding is that bad and as I said, the strap is applying pressure.”

“You not telling me is much more worrying.” He said sternly though you heard the worry seeping into his voice. “If you are injured, I’d like to know.”

“I thought that we’d be found quicker.” You sighed as you leaned your head back against the tree. “We had so much else to worry about that I didn’t want to add to that when I thought we’d be back at our base within no time.”

“Next time, don’t worry about worrying me and tell me if you’re injured.” Levi said before he knelt down in front of you. “May I have a look?”

“I guess that would be a good idea.”

You slowly reached down and tried to roll up the leg of your pants but found that with how it was sticking to you after the rain had gotten it wet it was almost impossible. So you ripped it open, flinching at the shoot of pain it sent up your whole leg. When you saw the wound for the first time you gasped. There are a huge cut stretching upwards from above your knee to just underneath the valley of your hips. Now without the added pressure of the straps, the blood was pouring out more freely.

“I’m going to bleed out, aren’t I?”

“I won’t let you.” Levi promised and looked around before shaking his head in desperation. “I need something to stop the bleeding with.”

You swallowed thickly, tears welling up in your eyes. If Levi was this concerned, things must have been more serious than you had initially thought. Fear gripped ahold of you again and you had to take several deep breaths to not cry. But Levi had noticed, observant as ever. He turned back to you, eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s wrong?”

You swallowed against the lump in your throat but a few tears still rolled down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, it’s just that if you’re this worried I-- I must be pretty bad off, right? This situation must be more-- more hopeless than I previously thought.”

He looked at you for a few seconds as if contemplating on what to do before he knelt next to you and put a comforting hand on your arm. “I will do whatever I can to get you back to base safely.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“No formalities. I’m not your captain now. I’m your friend who’d like to get you back to base safely.” To his shock, you started crying at his words and he inched closer, looking you over in a slight panic. “What did I do wrong? Did I say somthing?”

“Thank you so much.” You sobbed out quietly, wiping at your teary eyes. “When I hid by the base of the tree I thought I was going to die but you saved me and now you’re still saving me. Thank you, Levi.”

“Of course I am.” Levi said softly, giving you a stern look. “I am your friend. Now let me think of how to stop the bleeding.”

About ten minutes later saw Levi provisionally applying a turnequette fashioned out of the straps of your gear and you trying not to make any noises while he did so. When he was finally done you looked up and gave him a thankful smile. It was getting harder and harder to not slur your speech or slump fruther down on the branch.

“Thank you.” You whispered and looked down, noticing your bleeding hand. “I must have bitten it pretty hard when-- while trying not to make any noise. But it’s-- but that’s nothing to worry about.”

“Your speech is slurring.” He pointed out and sat down next to you. “You have to stay away, alright? Help is on the way.”

“How-- how do you know that?” You slurred, trying to focus on Levi but it was getting increasingly harder to focus on anything and to keep your head clear. “I get that you’re smart and-- and a good soldier and-- but you’re not-- How do you know?”

Levi raised an eyebrow in concern and inched closer to you. “I sent out a flair earlier. Green for an injured and lost soldier. Don’t you remember?”

“Green.” You nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, green.”

“You know if Hanji was here she’d laugh at you slurring your words.” Levi remarked softly as he looked back at you. “You sound so thoughtful when you talk about the colour green.”

“It’s a pretty colour.” You retorted, pushing yourself up to sit a little straighter. “Can I-- Is it okay if I take a little-- if I just close my eyes for ten minutes?”

“No.”

“Five minutes?”

“No, you have to stay awake.” Levi urged and shook his head, fishing around in the little bag the horse had dropped earlier as it had taken off, pulling out a little flask. “Here, have a drink.”

“Is this the time for alcohol?”

“It’s water, you moron.”

You chuckled at his insult before a smile overtook your face. “I like that more. I don’t like it when you’re-- when you’re too nice and soft. Makes me wonder if-- if I’m hallucinating. Doesn’t matter that I’m injured. Just insult me.”

Levi gave a dry laugh at that and then tipped your head back, gently helping you drink some of the water. You drank half of the flask before pulling back and looking at him. Levi gave you a questioning look.

“You need to-- you need water, too.”

“It’s raining. I can just collect more water.” Levi reasoned before holding the flask to your lips again. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You need to drink.”

“Alright.” You nodded and let him help you take another sip before he leaned you back against the tree trunk while you smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. How are you feeling?”

“Cold and wet and hurt.”

Levi looked at you for a few seconds before he shrugged off his cape and draped it over your shoulders. You tried to wave it off, not wanting him to be cold, but he grapped your hand, holding it to stop you from taking the cape off.

“Take it. The cold will only make you feel worse.”

It was ironic because you had longed for this sort of gesture from Levi for years, your feelings for him only getting stronger every time you spoke to him. You two were friends and you knew that yet this gesture would have delighted you had you not been in such a dire situation. Knowing that Levi would probably not feel the same either way you shoved your thoughts away, instead giving him a small smile as you pulled the cape close around your body.

“Thank you. You know, I’m really glad you’re my friend.”

“Likewise.”

A smile tore your face and you leaned back to watch Levi scout out your surroundings, then cursing under his breath as he still saw no other soldiers coming. You hoped they weren’t waiting out the storm before they came to your rescue. Levi seemed to notice your worry and sat down next to you, turning his head to face you.

“You’re going to be fine, I promise. All you have to do is be quiet and stay awake. The others will find us soon.”

“I hope so.” You whispered, tears brimming at your eyes. “My-- my little brother is in-- He’s also in the Survey Corps and I can’t leave him alone.”

“I know.” Levi said and inched closer to you. “And you won’t. I’m sure right now he is safe with the others and in due time, you will see him again. We just have to wait a little longer.”

You swallowed then and turned to Levi, pulling out a small silver locket. “My father gave it to me for-- for my sixteenth birthday all those years ago. And-- Well, should I not make it--”

“No.”

“Would you give it to my brother?” You mumbled out, tears running down your cheeks. “It’s not worth a whole lot but I’m sure he could use it-- He’ll find a use for it.”

“I won’t give it to him.” Levi said sternly. “You’ll be able to do that yourself. Because I will get you back to base safely.”

“We’re running out of time, Levi.” More tears cascaded down your face as you slowly leaned into Levi’s shoulder, exhausiton and the need for comfort overtaking any restraints you had about being so close to him. “I’m bleeding so much. I’ll never make it.”

“You will. Just keep your eyes open.”

“It’s so hard to-- I’m so exhausted and--” You paused, taking a deep breath and looking up at Levi. “Can you slap me across the face or-- or something? I need something to keep me conscious.”

“You want me to slap you?”

“Unless you-- you have a better idea to keep me from passing out.”

Levi was quiet for a few seconds and drew back a bit, making you raise from his shoulder. You expected him to slap you or shake you to keep you conscious. His hand came close to your face but instead of doing anything you had asked for he cupped your cheek and before you could question what he was planning he pressed his lips to yours, his eyes closing.

Your eyes grew wide in shock and you felt more awake than you had been in the past hour. But you quickly reciprocated, eyes fluttering shut as you leaned in to your best ability with you still being injured. He held your face gently, thumb rubbing your cheek as he gently leaned you back againt the tree with his free hand. A bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree and despite you trying to chase after his lips Levi pulled back from the kiss.

“I told you to keep your eyes open.”

Blinking back at him, you gave him a soft smile. “I thought you’d make an exception for me just this once.”

“Not when you’re this injured.” He said sternly, leaning closer again. “Do you feel more awake now?”

“Defintely.”

“Good because I’m going to climb a bit higher to get a better view and see if anyone is approaching, yet.” He said but before he stood he ran his hand along your cheek once more. “Hang on for me until I’m back.”

Before you could answer, he was gone, using his gear to get to a higher branch and dissapearing between the leaves. His absensce gave you a much needed chance to think. You had long since come to terms your feelings for Levi but he had never shown you any interest beyond being friends with you, so you had accepted that your feelings would remain unreciprocated. But now you wondered whether or not he felt the same way or if he’d simply kissed you to keep you from passing out.

“I see horses approaching!”

You nearly jumped out of your own skin when Levi landed in front of you, hair once again drenched from the rain as he knelt down by your side. With help approaching you wondered when you’d again get the chance to talk about what the kiss had meant, so you gathered all your courage and decided to ask him.

“Levi, may I ask you something?”

“This is not the time. We have to get you to safely first.” He said, standing and getting beside you before he grabbed you underneath the arms and helped you stand. “Whatever you want to ask it can wait.”

You quieted down at that, partially because you knew he was right to want to concentrate on getting to safety first and partially because of your pain skyrocketing at having to stand up. Despite trying to keep your pain hidden Levi once more saw right through you and hoisted your arm over his shoulders to support you. Exhausted and in pain you leaned your head against him and Levi let you.

“I will get you to safety, I promise.”

---

“How are you feeling?”

You looked away from watching the rain outside the window of the small castle this expedition had set up camp in to face Levi. He was standing in the doorway to the small medical bay you were currently staying at after you had been treated. You pushed yourself into a sitting position to get a better look at Levi and when you saw is worried expression youhave him a soft smile, hoping to reassure him.

“I’m alright. I had to get stitches on my leg but I’m alright now, still in pain but no longer in danger of bleeding to death.”

“While it’s not good that you’re in pain I’m glad you’re in a stable condition.” Levi said, coming closer to your bed and resting his hands on the board at the foot of it. “You had me worried about you.”

A surprise chuckle left your mouth at that confession. “You were worried about me?”

“You were injured, bleeding profusely and far away from basecamp. Of course, I was worried about you.” Levi said sternly, frowning at your reaction. “Is it that hard to believe that I worry about you? You are my friend, after all.”

His words made you stall because it reminded you of how you still wanted to know what the kiss you’d shared had meant and if he also felt more for you than friendship. “Levi, may I ask you something? The thing I wanted to ask you about before?”

“Does it happen to have anything to do with me kissing you?”

“Yes.” You nodded, swallowing nervously before speaking up again, gathering all your courage to confess to him. “I’m aware that you might have simply kissed me to keep me from passing out but I want to be honest about my feelings for you just on the offchance that you feel the same. I’m in love with you and I have been for a while now. You probably don’t feel the same and--”

Having apparently had enough of your rambling Levi decided to stop you and he did so by once more pressing his lips to yours. But before you could even react or let alone reciprocate he pulled back again, eyes locking with yours.

“I apologise but I had to make you stop talking before you got it all wrong.” Levi said and at your slightly confused epxression he sat down on the foot of your bed. “I was unsure of whether or not I was really in love with you but I think the prospect of losing you today made me realise what these feelings really were.”

“You feel the same?”

“I’m in love with you.” Levi said before he reached out to gently push you back against the pillow. “But now you need to rest so you won’t hurt yourself even more. Can you do that for me?”

“I can.”

Levi gave you a small smile before standing back up and nodding his head toward the door. “I have to report back to Erwin now but I will check in on you afterwards, I promise.”

“Levi, just one more thing before you leave?” “What do you need?”

“Would you kiss me again?”

“Of course.”

#i hope this isn't OOC and if it is please do forgive me #fanfiction #textpost #writing #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #levi x reader #levi imagine #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagine

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cool-person-yey · 2 days

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If you were to psychoanalyze the characters from tmagp, what would you say about them as well as how that affects them and their outlook on life?

now THAT is a loaded question

Sam -> oh that boy is not well. getting rejected from the institute fucked him up a lot, and all the expectations his parents ( and himself) had for him didn't help. all of that resulted in him being a massive overachiever & people-pleaser, n also his obsession with the institute. Sam feels that need to prove himself, prove that he's good enough, and if for some reason he isn't, he needs to know why. he's trying to cross-reference cases, looking for the answers— and yet, he's being deprived of them. again. I've noticed that he's slightly manipulative, not like, playing people to do what he wants, but just small little actions and stuff he says that seem harmless at first but do have second intentions in mind. I'd say it's related to the whole Gifted Kid Burnout™ thing, usually ex-gifted kids are great at lying and schooling their expressions to not show what they truly feel and think.

Alice-> oh she is not fine. not fine at all. We don't know how her experience at the institute impacted her (or if he remembers it at all. I think she does, just trying to ignore it) so I'll leave that aside for now. Her parents' deaths resulted in her having to fill that role for Luke, and she probably did not have time to grieve properly for them (yes, Sam helped her, but there's only so much a friend can do. and in a way, grieving never really stops). Her 'jokester doesn't care about the horrors' demeanor is meant to hide the simple fact that she is scared she probably has been for a while, but never had the chance to show it, and know she doesn't know exactly how to. if she can't make it funny then she'll ignore it, it's better that way.

Gwen-> yeah she's not good either. honestly no one in this fucking office is alright. The first thing we know about Gwen is that she comes from a rich family, and that obviously impacts heavily how she views the world, the scene that portrays this the best is when she welcomes Lady Mowbray into the OIAR because " she's an actual lady'' ( like the most dangerous thing isn't an old British lady) Gwen is very much an elitist. she needs to be at the top at all costs, she needs to be "In it". While her experience with Bonzo definitely shook her up quite a bit, she does not seem to want to go back though. We don't know much about her personal life (outside her family being rich obv) so I won't comment on that.

Lena -> I think she might be the most unwell on this list. she doesn't interact much with the others, but she does care a lot, we have basically 0 information on her background (outside of headcanons, and while I have many I'll only talk canon stuff here) so I won't comment much on it, but Lena seems like someone who was taught to always obey and not to ask many questions. she wants to complete the tasks management send her, not only because she needs to obey, but also because they're supposedly helping the world with that work. Lena cares, she just doesn't show it, I'd say either because she was taught not to, or because she learned it the hard way that caring may be your downfall.

Celia -> this one's a bit complicated. everyone and their mother have talked about how celia is the same one from tma etc etc. and yeah, I believe in it BUT since it wasn't properly confirmed yet, I'll talk about tmagp-only Celia first and then tma-travelled-to-tmagp Celia bc that's a whole other angst ( well not that they don't have stuff in common, but they're for different reasons)

So we know very little about Celia actually. she has a son, she likes little doughnuts, she wakes up in the middle of the night at a train station sometimes. She seems very reserved to talk much about her own life, even to old friendships such as Georgie. Celia is a very secretive person, she does believe the cases are true and does not hide that fact, even bringing it up at her date with Sam. Jack adds an interesting layer to her character, we haven't seem much of him yet, but I think that eventually her Mother Instincts and protectiveness will come into play. So overall, Celia is a pretty reserved person that does believe in the horrors, but doesn't want her loved ones to be involved in the horrors ( unless they show an interest in it? lots of people have theorized that maybe she is not in love with Sam or something, while i do not share that theory it is something to consider still. ) She definitively had a past experience with the horrors though.

now our beloved tma-celia-went-to-protocolverse-celia. Like i mentioned before, she has basically the same personality as— well, herself. but now I can pick out these traits and explain the reason behind them ( or speculate because this is a theory, even if like, everyone has agreed on it. we could just have been fools the whole goddamn time. do not forget that) first of, her being extremely secretive is kind of obvious, trying not to attract unwanted attention and not have many people involved in it, as not to harm them. Celia has first-hand experience with the horrors, she lost herself in it, she doesn't want that to happen to anyone else. I choose to assume Jack was born before she took tmagp's Celia's place, and she did not have the courage to just get rid of an innocent baby (tmagp celia was too but hey, telling lies to justify our actions is easier when looking through a mirror). She cares, she even became georgie's friend again, she cares a lot and she knows she'll have to work hard to keep the people she loves safe.

We don't know that much about collin and teddy yet, although if anyone want to psychoanalize them go for it!

thanks for sending this question anon! and i apologize for taking a while to asnwer it, and if any of the asnwer seems weird or not like what a human person would say, it is because they were written all in different times and places and stages of sleep deprivation.

#tmagp #tmagp spoilers #the magnus protocol #tmagp speculation #celia ripley #samama khalid #sam khalid #gwen bouchard #gwendolyn bouchard #alice dyer #lena kelley #answered ask

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vampiricmycelium · 1 day

Text

I've been taken over by thoughts of @zhukzucraft Quadruple Life series and dapper duo/mumskizz so I wrote a little thing for them.

"You two can rest here! If you need anything just holler."

Joe waved goodbye to the new soulmate pair before disappearing back into the hallway. Mumbo turned from his disappearing back to the room he had been led to. It was a small room dug out underground with two beds nearby. Meant to be used as a bedroom of some sort. Not that anyone would really be getting sleep.

Skizz was already relaxing on one of the beds, peering over at him with one eye open.

"You okay there Jumbo Jet?"

"Me? I'm fine."

Mumbo didn't feel fine. He hadn't felt fine since he had caused their accidental death, or maybe even before that. Certainly since. It wasn't just that they were both on yellow already that had him shaken, but the strange choice he was given. It was a relief that his soulmate was Skizz out of everyone. He knew that if his luck had been worse, he might not be able to relax here at all. If he could relax.

Skizz was a strange one, though. He hadn't really spent that much time with him before this, but he knew what he was like—to a degree. He was a little overwhelmed with how friendly and affectionate he was. Skizz wasn't doing anything at the moment, and already Mumbo's face was heating back up just thinking about his teasing joke that they were married.

Was being soulmates equivalent to being married? No. Joe and Doc weren't married, right?

"You sure, buddy? You're just kind of standing there looking like you might faint."

"Do I? I'm sorry. I'm just a little overwhelmed at the moment. I think I just need some time to unwind."

"Well, you're in the perfect place for it." Skizz patted the side of the bed he was on. Not the one next to it, the one he was currently lying across. Yes, Mumbo was properly blushing now. "Come over here and relax."

Mumbo didn't reply but instead took the other bed, sitting on it facing Skizz. Skizz didn't seem disappointed if he was at all that Mumbo had taken the other bed in the room instead of joining him. Perhaps he hadn't intended to imply that Mumbo should join him in his bed. Skizz smiled at him, as bright and warm as before. Mumbo felt shy again, but there was something else there. He was happy, yes, happy. Happy his soulmate was Skizz. Someone who wanted him was happy to have him around. Who wasn't upset that he took their first life.

Someone who smiled at him laughed with him and called him a silly nickname. Skizz was an amazing person, a great friend, and an ally. He was lucky to have him, but he didn't think Skizz was as lucky to be stuck with him.

"Don't want to share our wedding bed," Skizz finally said, affirming Mumbo's first idea. Mumbo started to stumble over his words, beet red and trying to turn away. Skizz laughed, but it wasn't mean. "Sorry, sorry. I don't mean to tease you so much. I don't want to put us on red accidentally by making you die of embarrassment or something."

"I'm not embarrassed," Mumbo tried to assure but felt like he was doing a terrible job of it. "I'm just not good at.... any of this."

"Don't worry there Mumble Jumble. I won't say another word about it. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

There was a long stretch of silence.

"I don't mind it."

"What?"

"The flirting. The jokes about being married. All of that. I don't mind it."

Skizz was quiet and for a moment Mumbo wondered if he messed it up. Maybe Skizz didn't care for it and was trying to find a way out of joking about it. Had he messed things up?

"Good. Because you know... we aren't really husbands." Skizz paused before giving a different kind of smile. Something far more cheeky and flirty. "Yet."

"Yet?"

"You know, at the end of the whole deal, the two people getting married kiss to seal the deal. We haven't kissed yet!"

"Skizz. We can't. We can't kiss," Mumbo replied, his voice dropping down at the end as if he was trying to prevent anyone from overhearing them. "Can we?"

"I think that's up for the two of us to decide, don't you think? If you want to kiss me and I want to kiss you."

Mumbo wondered if he'd ever stop blushing. If he'd go through this whole game with a bright red face. He couldn't look at Skizz as he spoke, feeling nervous and shy and ready to explode. This was all so much.

"Do you want to kiss me?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Just a quick and simple response. What did he expect from the man who chose to keep their bond so quickly? "Okay."

"Okay? You want to kiss me, too?"

"I-- Yes. I want to."

Mumbo turned back, seeing that Skizz had sat up on his bed. He was leaning forward, giving Mumbo that same warm look. He felt like he might die instead of having a heart attack. He closed his eyes, leaning towards him. He could feel Skizz's hand on his thigh, feel him get closer. He heard the soft whisper of, "You may now kiss the groom," and then Skizz was kissing him.

It was a soft, chaste kiss that lingered for only a couple of seconds, but it felt so nice. Mumbo was almost sad when Skizz pulled away. He opened his eyes back to see his bright grin, his hand still on his leg. Mumbo let out a shaky breath. Oh, Skizz was going to be the death of him in so many ways. He just knew it.

"Let's get some rest, hubby. I think we've both earned it."

"Of course." Mumbo finally gave back his own smile. "Husband."

#charlie has a boring life #trafficshipping #mumskizz #dapper duo #quadruple life #I hope this was good

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accirax · 1 day

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initial thoughts on DCAS episode 11

oh my god

i had already guessed that Alec was lying (much like Jake did), but this was a really nice explanatory touch! Alec and Riya's friendship is, as usual, one of the season highlights for me.

would've been a lot more interesting if the campers could have chosen their own partners in one way or another, imo, but that would definitely eat up a lot of time in an already packed episode. plus, some pairings (like Connor and Riya) probably couldn't have happened this way, given how Riya wound up reacting to Connor.

"alright Fiore, here's how we prevent you from going home this week," one could say.

i was SO worried that Alec was going to have another confessional at some point being like "lol i was testing my acting skills on Fiore too" but he DIDN'T. which means this is CANON. THE ADOPTION IS BACK ON!!!!!!!!

okay, i actually love the decision to pair Hunter and Grett together here. both of them are the "very flawed but kinda mistreated partner of their appearances-obsessed date," so it makes sense that Hunter could give Grett a good perspective on this. also, is it just me, or did they rework Hunter's personality in this episode to be more like S2? i liked it.

i'm going to put every Fiore and Alec moment in this post and you can't stop me. i am initially thinking about them.

"joke's on you fucker i didn't teach her literally any of this. she's just built different."

as much as i enjoy Alec appreciating his daughter's sass, this does seem like a pretty radical heel turn from "i only voted Connor out of this game because it was what was best for him." i guess maybe spending time with Riya and the other villains has caused Alec to fall further off the deep end/forget about Connor's genuinely nice qualities...? or it's inconsistency between different writers, who knows.

i am 0% a jul(?) shipper, but, damn, the jul shippers were eating well this episode.

Yul is such an interesting little guy.

James flexing his character arc, we love to see it.

WHAT IS IT WITH THE CYAN WOMEN AND SECRETLY BEING JACKED????

society..... it's becoming more utopian........

see, this is why i didn't think Tess would be the one to return to the game.

Aiden is such a hater, i love him. but, overall, i agree with Lake. we're definitely sowing the seeds for a Jake redemption(/winner?) arc and a heroes' reunion.

Riya, finally finishing what she started in S2 of making the gays fall off cliffs.

villains are so fun. i love villains.

THE SOFT DAD SMILE IS BACK :D

ooh, nice callback.

this is an objectively funny screenshot. why does Alec yell like that

what a surprising outcome! (/s /lh)

:,) <3

i wish Aiden and James had more of an opportunity to talk during this episode :/ it's fine, though-- i think that James and Lake's characters were used more effectively this way.

they're getting back together after this trust me guys i'm disventure camp

YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY

they truly are family now. i love it.

"not that bad" is a weird way to describe your would-be crush.

this will be a fun scene! idk which episode "Saturday" will be, though. both because idk how many days will pass in any given episode and also bc i don't recall which day today is in canon.

i do wonder what evil Gabby is doing here. i guess maybe it'll just be the side of Gabby that wants to run with the villains alliance for power vs the side that wants to follow Ellie's advice? that seems kind of weird. maybe it'll be more like the side that wants to go mad with power on the revenge quest vs Gabby's more rational and strategic side? either way, strange cliffhanger.

can't we just have everyone here... always... all the time...? no? okay :( well, it was still really nice to get the whole gang back together for this episode. i'll look forward to seeing them again in the finale.

and, hey, Connor's back in the game now! and he can't be eliminated next episode, at least. are there going to be three players with immunity...? that could get spicy. we'll see how the heroes and villains smack down when the next real elimination rolls around. back up to ten to nine again... see you next time!

#disventure camp #disventure camp spoilers #dcas #dcas initial thoughts #i had a bit of a rough day today so i'm really glad that this episode was there to cheer me up #i would've been even HAPPIER with one slight modification (which i'm sure you can guess) but. this shall do.

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iwoulddothingstothisman · 2 days

Text

The Love in His Eyes

"Cas for the I don't know how many-eth time could we please get some fucking help." Dean rasped while trying to hack the head of the vampire pinning him against the wall.

Finally he got through its neck and wiped the blood off of his face. He was just about to yell for Sam when he heard Cas say, 'close your eyes,' and once he saw Sam do it he closed his eyes. Just after he did so he heard what could only be described as a giant thunderclap and a faint sizzling followed by a blinding white light even through his eyelids.

He didn't know how long he had his eyes closed for but he didn't open them until he felt someone touch his shoulder followed by the familiar tingle of Grace. He was met with Cas's face inches from his own.

"Woah there Buddy, two steps back if ya can," Dean said using a hand to gently push Cas away from him, letting it linger on his chest for maybe a second too long.

"You're hurt." Was all Cas said.

"I'm fine, I promise." Dean gently squeezed Cas' shoulder before walking away to find Sam.

Sam was still lying down where a couple vampires previously had him pinned, looking like he was just happy to be alive. Dean leaned down and gave him a hand which Sam held onto tightly then hauled him up and slipped Sam's arm over his shoulders. Slowly they hobbled over to Cas who was just watching the both of them.

"Gimme a hand here, Cas." Dean gestured with his head to the other side of Sam.

Cas walked over and slipped Sam's other arm over his shoulder and placed his hand in between Sam's shoulder blades. As they walked Cas used his Grace to heal Sam and what little of Dean he could get to from where he was touching Sam.

It was a long ride back to their motel room but by the time they had gotten there Sam was almost completely healed and Dean was doing better than he was to begin with. He would have been much better though if he hadn't shoved Cas' hand off him with a grunt and a mumbled, 'save your Grace.' Cas was going to argue that he had more than enough to heal Dean but a silent, borderline pleading prayer had him settling.

Dean tried to help Sam out again but was shoved off with a glare.

"If anyone should be helping anyone, I should be helping you." He said while giving Dean a pointed look.

"I'm fine."

They had just gotten inside when Cas opened his mouth again.

"Dean, why do you insist that you're fine even when you're not?" He asked.

"Sam, go have a shower."

"Since when do you not want first shower?" He asked.

"Sam, shower."

"Alright, alright." He said raising his hands in surrender. He grabbed a change of clothes and slowly walked into the bathroom, Dean glaring at him the whole time. Only once the door shut and the lock clicked did he let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Because I do, Cas. Any other questions?" He asked.

"Why do you feel the need to hide?" He had his adorable little head tilt going on because of course he does. Is he trying to kill Dean.

"Because I don't have a whole lot that's worth seeing."

"Of course you do. Your soul alone is the most beautiful one I've ever seen." Cas held his gaze and even though the intensity and sincerity of it scared Dean a little, he couldn't bring himself to look away.

"I- what, you can't serious." Dean backed up a step only for Cas to follow him.

"But I am, I won't lie and say it's not damaged, I can see where Hell has worn it but when I was putting it back together, putting you back together all I could think about was recreating this gorgeous man, this oh so important man and how I was the one lucky enough to do it." Cas lifted his hand to let it hover just next to Dean's cheek, not quite touching it.

"You're not too bad looking yourself," Dean mumbled before shifting to the side a little so that Cas' hand was resting on his cheek.

They held each other's gaze for a little before they moved together and held the other tightly, Dean had his face pressed into the crook of Cas' neck and Cas was holding Dean close with a hand on the base of his neck and lower back.

Sam smiled as he moved away from the wall to step into the shower knowing that his big brother was getting the care he so desperately needed and thoroughly deserved.

Ah yes, the fear of being perceived.

Again if anyone sees any obvious (or not so obvious) errors please point it out, hope you enjoyed it and remember to drink water.

#destiel pride #destiel #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester

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fizzytoo · 2 years

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now i understand why my mom was so pissed when i waited till the last minute to do my school projects 💀 my brother has a science fair project due next week & i’m just finding out he avoided FOUR (4) weeks of work

#i didn’t think it was that bad #this whole time he’s been lying about how he’s doing it and i know we shouldn’t have just trusted him 😭#now i’m anxiety ridden over someone else’s assignment #and don’t get me started on latine mothers and their sons bc my mom is babying tf outta him and i know getting upset won’t help the #situation but damn 💀💀 she just told him to go to bed and worry about it tomorrow #++ what’s REALLY making me lose my mind is that a few days ago he asked me to help with the drawing part.. like ??? i rlly thought he was #on track w the plan he made in the beginning so i didn’t think anything of it and now?? babe LAMISKDJD #he kills me istg #*fizzyspeaks

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champagnefountains · 4 months

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LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).

It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief).

Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.

Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.

So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud.

“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?”

“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan.

The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.

Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks.

“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.”

There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”

A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard.

“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!”

Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake.

“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.”

“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?”

For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.

If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.

“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.

“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on.

Earlier on:

On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.

You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.

Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement.

“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”

“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding.

"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.”

You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot.

“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes.

“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?”

Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!”

“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page.

“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.

“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.”

There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.

“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you.

Currently:

Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear.

After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.

After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him.

Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie.

“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–”

“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.

As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.

“Oh, fuck no!”

Chapter III - Finale [x]

Thank you for reading!

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar

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scuderiahoney · 5 months

Text

Be Brave

Oscar Piastri x reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a teacher, and someone’s had the brilliant idea to send your class full of 5 year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre. Chaos ensues. Oscar’s there to help.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: none

a/n: this is not the angst I threatened or the fic from the dialogue poll I did, but a secret third thing: a request I finally got the motivation to finish after seeing cute pics of Oscar with kids. Enjoy!

In hindsight, whoever’s idea it was to bring a classroom of five year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre- an active car factory- has definitely never stepped foot in a classroom full of five years olds. You’re lucky- your students are quite well behaved, and you’ve got plenty of parent chaperones with you. It turns out that about half your class’ families seem to be McLaren fans. Half your students had showed up today in bright orange- papaya, one of them had corrected you. You’re not complaining- it makes them easier to spot.

The field trip has been fun. The kids are thrilled about everything. It’s just. Tiny hands, tiny humans, wandering through an active car factory? You’re on edge the whole time. You’re constantly scanning the class, counting to make sure you haven’t lost any students as the tour guide tries to explain mechanical engineering in words that 5 year olds will understand.

You breathe a mild sigh of relief when they bring you into a large, open conference room. They’re going to have someone come speak to the kids in a few minutes. While you have the chance, and a closed room with enough people to guard the exits, you stand in front of your class and tell them to go wild. Seventeen five year olds begin to run around the room. One 5 year old clings to your hand in the quietest corner of the room.

Sammy. He’s a quiet kid, not one for the chaos. He’s stuck to your side the whole morning, staring at everything with big eyes and jumping at all the loud noises. You relate to him more than you’d like to admit. Somehow, the quiet kid turned into a teacher. It seems almost hard to believe looking back, how painfully shy you were.

Sammy tugs on your hand and points at a large mural on one of the walls. “Who’s that?” He asks.

The room you’re in has the two current drivers plastered on the walls, larger than life. You look where he’s pointing and smile.

“That’s Oscar Piastri,” you say, extending the syllables for him.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” he sounds out. “That’s my dad’s favorite driver.”

You smile. “Wanna know a secret?” He nods, and so you whisper loudly. “He’s my favorite too.”

Sammy giggles. “Oscar Piastri.”

“He says it better than most of the broadcasters, I think,” says someone behind you.

You turn and come face to face with none other than Oscar Piastri. You hope your shock isn’t too obvious, and you try to control your wide eyes. They’d said someone from the team was going to come talk to your kids- you hadn’t expected it to be one of the drivers. You smile politely as you feel Sammy step behind your legs.

“Hi. Sorry about the…” you wave your hand in the general direction of the children running around behind you. “If they didn’t get some excercise they were never going to make it through the rest of the day.”

“No worries,” Oscar says, smiling brightly. He looks at Sammy where he’s hiding behind you. “Not this guy, though?”

“No, Sammy here is very well behaved and polite,” you say proudly, before whispering, “and quite shy.”

Oscar nods in understanding. His face has gone soft. You weren’t lying when you said he was your favorite, and it only increases with the way he looks at the five year old so fondly. You think maybe Oscar understands Sammy all too well. You turn over your shoulder to look at the little boy.

“Sammy, should we practice being big and brave and introducing ourselves?” You ask. He frowns slightly but nods anyways. “We’ll do it together, okay?”

He nods again and steps out from behind your legs. You stand up straight, and he follows suit. Then you stick your hand out to shake Oscar’s as you introduce yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, repeating your name back to you. “I’m Oscar.”

Sammy takes a tentative step forward and sticks his tiny hand out. You drop back just a bit and pull your phone from your pocket, giving Oscar a questioning glance and making a camera sort of motion with your hands. He nods eagerly before he crouches down to Sammy’s level.

“My name is Samuel,” he says, as he shakes Oscar’s hand. “But you can call me Sammy.”

You hide an endeared laugh behind your hand and snap a picture of the two of them. You know his parents will be thrilled.

“Hi, Sammy,” Oscar says sweetly. “My name is Oscar. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You’re my dad’s favorite driver,” Sammy says. “And my teacher’s favorite driver. So I think you’re my favorite, too. Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You stare down at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling betrayed by your favorite student. Your face grows warm, but Oscar just laughs lightly and smiles up at you.

“Is that so?” He says, turning back to Sammy. “I’m honored.”

He stands back up, and Sammy goes back to clinging to your side. There’s a bright smile on Oscar’s face. You know yours matches it.

“So, are you our guest speaker?” You ask, trying to will your face to cool down.

He nods eagerly, eyes darting around the room, watching kids run everywhere. One of them bumps into the back of your legs and squeaks out a quick apology before running away again. He laughs lightly, hiding it behind his hand.

“Hopefully Lando and I can keep them entertained,” he says.

“Oh, they’ll be fine, they’ll sit quietly when I ask them to,” you say.

He gives you an uncertain look, a soft smirk on his lips. You laugh, hoping it’s not painfully obvious how taken you are with him. He’s been your favorite driver because of his level head and dry humor, but standing in front of him you can’t help but notice how cute he is. Before he can say anything in response and challenge your ability to control your class, Lando comes stumbling into the room.

“Okay, now this is my kinda school trip,” he says, an impressed grin on his lips. He elbows Oscar. “This was me as a kid.”

Oscar gestures towards Sammy, still tucked against your leg. “This was me, I think.”

Lando laughs and nods. He tilts his head at you, and you stick your hand out once again and introduce yourself. Sammy follows suit. Lando bends to shake the five year olds hand, giving both you and him an impressed smile.

“Sammy’s working on being big and brave and introducing himself,” Oscar says.

“Well he’s doing a great job,” Lando says with an approving nod.

“He’s got a great teacher,” Oscar says, grinning at you.

With that, your face grows hot again. You clear your throat and turn over your shoulder to look at the class. They’re beginning to slow just slightly. Perfect timing.

You clap your hands, and each of them skids to a stop, turning to look at you. “Okay, friends! Come sit up here, we have some very special guest speakers.”

The children all make their way to the front of the room, sitting down on the carpet in a semicircle. Even Sammy wanders away, taking a seat near the back. You turn back to Oscar and Lando, who both have impressed looks on their faces.

“I think we need you to run our meetings,” Oscar says, brows raised.

“Oh, if you give them permission to go crazy consistently when they need it, they’ll listen when you tell them it’s time to be calm,” you say with a shrug. “My mum was a teacher, too, she taught me that.”

“Yeah, if Zak let me be a menace before meetings I’d have a lot easier time sitting through them,” Lando agrees. “Alright, you little muppets!”

He steps in front of the class. Oscar gives you an exasperated smile, like you’re both sharing a moment of understanding. Maybe Lando’s still a 5 year old at heart. You laugh and step back with the chaperones to watch them speak as Oscar follows Lando’s lead. It’s fun to watch. You realize they couldn’t have picked better speakers.

Some of the kids recognize the drivers, but even the ones who don’t are enamored once they find out that these guys drive race cars for a living. You snap lots of pictures of your students staring up at them with wide grins. Lando continues to call them muppets, earning laughs each time. Oscar gets down on their level and uses a little model of the car to explain the aerodynamics. They give a horrible demonstration of slipstream, with Lando pretending to drive and Oscar pretending to be the air. Then, at the end, they open it up for questions. Eighteen tiny hands fly up into the air.

“Do you speed when you drive a normal car?” One of them asks.

“Never,” Lando lies.

“D’you ever fight with other drivers?” Another student asks.

“We try to leave what happens in the race on the track,” Oscar answers. “We’re all quite nice to each other outside of the races, actually.”

Lando shrugs and shakes his hand from side to side. A few of the kids catch on and laugh.

Sammy is sitting in the back of the group, his hand raised. He’s not waving it around, not bouncing up and down. But you watch Oscar scan the group, see him spot the tiny hand anyways.

“Sammy,” he calls out. “What’s your question?”

Sammy looks shocked to have been called on, but he clears his throat and speaks up. “What’s your favorite color?”

The grin that breaks across Oscar’s face is endearing. Lando smiles, too, presses his hand to his chest. You wait for the canned answer- papaya, you think.

“Mine’s bright green,” Lando says.

Oscar nods. “Mine is blue. What’s yours?”

“Mine is blue too,” Sammy answers.

“Good taste.” Oscar says. He exchanges a grin with you. You smile proudly at Sammy, so happy to see him step out of his shell just a bit.

The next student who gets called on says, “my mum told me to ask if you’re single,” and you clap your hands and walk towards the front.

“Okay, friends, I think Oscar and Lando have given us enough of their time,” you say. “Can we all say a big thank you?”

A chorus of little voices calls out varying forms of thank you. One of them screams it, and Lando winces. Oscar’s cheeks are pink, probably from the student asking about his relationship status. Is it bad that you almost wanted him to answer? You’re being ridiculous, you know. But his flushed face is cute, and you can’t help but smile at him.

You shake their hands one more time before they leave. “Thanks again. You’ve really just made their days.”

“We were happy to,” Oscar says.

“Yeah, you’ve got a good group of kids,” Lando agrees.

“And they’ve got a good teacher,” Oscar repeats his earlier comment.

You laugh, feeling your face grow hot. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Oscar goes to say something else, but someone leans in through the door and calls out to him and Lando. He smiles sheepishly as Lando urges him towards the exit, tugging on his shirt.

“It was nice meeting you!” Oscar calls out before he disappears through the doors.

You turn back to your class and refocus. It’s time to move on to lunch, which is always the worst part of any field trip. Someone comes by to bring your group to the cafeteria. Your field trip worst nightmare- a large, open room full of people. You make sure all the chaperones are set with their groups and head off.

It goes fine. At first. You get the kids settled at tables and do a quick head count. Everyone’s there. They provide lunch for the kids, so you help to hand them out to everyone. Eighteen five year olds sit quietly, eat sandwiches and drink juice. You breath a little sigh of relief.

Then the kids all decide they need to go to the bathroom. You split them up, send them with chaperones in groups. You stay back at the tables with the ones who say they don’t need to go, knowing full well that in ten minutes they’ll be whining for the restroom. You clean up spilled apple juice and eat half your lunch. The bathroom groups come back one by one. Seventeen five year olds sit down at the tables.

And no, that can’t be right. You count again. Seventeen. One more time- seventeen. There’s an empty seat. You turn to the nearest chaperone, who also has a panicked look on his face.

“Sammy,” he says, eyes wide. “He was in my bathroom group, I swore he came back with us-“

You can’t panic. You turn to the nearest McLaren employee and tell them the situation. The look on her face tells you she’s going to panic, so you take control of the situation. You ask her to get everyone on the lookout for him, to page him over the speakers. Then you turn to your class.

“Friends,” you say, loudly. “Has anyone seen Sammy?”

Casey, one of the louder boys, raises his hand. “He stopped to tie his shoes when we were coming back.”

You could strangle the parent for not noticing, for not keeping an eye on the kids, but you don’t have time for that. At the very least, you have a starting point. You delegate a couple chaperones to stay with the kids in the cafeteria, and enlist a couple others to help you look. Panic is itching at the back of your brain, but you keep it tamped down. You’ll find him, and then you’ll freak out about it.

You split up, wandering the halls and asking everyone if they’ve seen a shy five year old with dark hair. They all tell you no, but that they’ll keep their eyes peeled. You check around corners, behind doors, in conference rooms and offices. You think you accidentally interrupt what was likely a very important meeting, though when you explain you’re looking for a missing child the men in suits all seem to understand.

The longer it goes on, the more sick to your stomach you feel. It’s Sammy. He got separated from his group and probably panicked just like you want to do now. He could be anywhere. He’s tiny, he could be hiding somewhere you’d never even think to look. His parents are going to kill you-

Oscar calls your name. It’s probably odd that you already recognize his voice, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You turn to look at him, and relief washes over you. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, his hand holding onto Sammy’s. You want to march down the hallway to them, but instead you collapse against one of the walls and press your hand to your mouth. Oscar pulls him towards you.

“I found him wandering in the hallway upstairs,” Oscar says. “He said he got lost.”

You nod, crouching down to Sammy’s level. He hides behind Oscar’s legs slightly.

“You’re not in trouble,” you say. “It’s okay. You found a helper, right? We always say that, look for the helpers. It’s okay! But next time you stop to tie your shoe-“ Oscar muffles a laugh behind his hand at that. “-you tell a grown up, okay?”

Sammy nods solemnly. You stand back up.

“Thank you,” you say to Oscar. “I owe you one, big time.”

“No worries,” he says, shrugging. “Knew you must be freaking out, so.”

You reach for Sammy’s hand and head for the cafeteria. To your surprise, Oscar follows. You’re not complaining.

“I’ve only been teaching for a year,” you explain, though you doubt he cares. The nervous energy needs to go somewhere, you suppose. “And I still feel brand new, you know? And school trips- don’t even get me started.”

Oscar laughs. “But field trips were the best part of school.”

“I lost a five year old in a car factory,” you say dryly. “Field trips are much less fun as a teacher.”

Oscar nods in understanding, trying and failing to hide his laughter. You come into view of the cafeteria and start counting heads. There are seventeen other 5 year olds still sitting at the tables. Sammy joins them, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does too. You pull out your phone and call the other chaperoned who went off to look, and tell them to head back to the cafeteria. With any luck, you might still be able to finish the tour.

“He’s a good kid,” Oscar says fondly, and you smile.

“He’s my favorite,” you admit. “I was a shy kid, too.”

Oscar leaves soon after that with a soft smile and an even softer goodbye. You wish he was the one leading the tour, but you know that would never happen. You’re lucky enough to have had the chance to meet him. He’s the same age as you, and he’s a world famous racecar driver. He’s probably already forgotten your name.

The rest of the tour is uneventful. None of your students wander off, and all of them are well behaved. They spot photos of Oscar and Lando in the halls and point excitedly at them, calling out their names. Finally, you’re brought out onto the lawn near the lake, and you give the kids a few minutes to play in the grass. You have the strong urge to lay down on the lawn and let them run until they all pass out. They have boundless energy, but you’re exhausted.

Someone nudges your arm lightly. You turn, expecting it to be a kid or a chaperone, but you come face to face with Oscar again.

“Oh god, did I lose another one?” You ask frantically.

He laughs. “No, no! Just came by to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” you say in understanding. “Thanks again, you know, for finding Sammy and for talking to the kids. I don’t think they’re gonna stop talking about this for ages.”

Oscar’s cheeks are flushed. “I’m glad they had a good time.”

You nod. “I did too, even with all the chaos. You have a really cool job, you know?”

He shrugs. “Not as important as yours. Tiny minds, shaping the future, you know.”

You let out a puff of air. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just struggling to keep the tiny humans alive, let alone teach them anything.”

He’s staring at you with this warm look on his face. You like his smile. There’s something comforting about it.

“Nah, I see the way they look at you. And Sammy introduced himself, you taught him that,” Oscar says. “That’s way more important than shapes or letters.”

Your face grows even hotter. “Thanks, Oscar.”

You see the bus pulling up the road out of the corner of your eye. About time to round the kids up. You turn towards your class, who are running around on the grass.

“Well, I’ve got to get them rounded up to go back, so unless you want to get mobbed by tiny humans you might want to make a run for it,” you say. “They’re distracted now, but they’ve been talking about you all afternoon.”

Oscar laughs brightly. “Yeah. I’ll head out. Um- d’you maybe-“ he pauses, and when you turn to him he shakes his head. “Sorry. Maybe I need to go back to school. Just. Have a good rest of your day. It was lovely meeting you.”

“You too,” you say warmly. “Thanks again.”

He disappears and you watch him go. You wonder what he was going to say- it sounded an awful lot like a question. But he’s gone now, and you’ll probably never see him again, so you try and let it go. By the time you get your class back to the school, it’s almost time for pickup. They’re all half asleep at their desks, absolutely worn out. Parents come by one by one to pick them up, and when Sammy’s dad shows up, you pull him aside and explain everything, the worst feeling in your stomach.

He laughs and shakes his head. “He does that to us all the time. We’ll be on a walk and he just- stops. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Sammy wanders over as you’re still processing the fact that his dad isn’t mad. “Guess who I met?” He says, staring up at his dad with a wide grin.

“Who?” His dad asks.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” Sammy says.

“That’s actually true,” you chime in. “I have the pictures to prove it.”

His dad looks at you with wide eyes. “If you’d have led with that, I wouldn’t have even heard you when you said he got lost.”

Despite what Sammy’s dad said, you toss and turn all night. Thankfully, it’s a Friday, so you don’t have to teach the next day. Every time you close your eyes you think of seventeen tiny heads, and one missing, and you feel sick to your stomach again. When you finally do fall asleep, you dream of children disappearing and warm brown eyes paired with an Australian accent. You spend the weekend trying to get your mind off of all of it.

On Monday, Sammy’s mother brings him into the classroom earlier than normal. You’re still turning on the lights and straightening things when they come in. He’s holding a little bouquet of flowers, and your heart melts.

“Sammy wanted to apologize for getting lost,” his mother says. “We know you must’ve been very worried.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Sammy.”

He nods, and you take the flowers from him. Then he scurries away to the play area.

“It’s okay,” his mother says. “Peter said you were really beating yourself up over it.”

You shrug. “It’s my worst fear, you know? I hate school trips.”

She laughs. “You know, he really likes you. We were worried, with how quiet he is, that he’d hate school. But you make it fun for him. So thank you.”

You smile, unsure of what to say in response other than, “thank you.”

You turn to your desk to find a vase or a cup for the bouquet, and that’s when you see the other flowers. A mix of white peonies and white roses and greenery, with little orange flowers stuck between all of them. You stop in your tracks. Behind you, Sammy’s mother laughs.

“Got a secret admirer?”

You shake your head uncertainly. You’re not sure how anyone even got flowers into your classroom this early on a Monday. But there they are, sitting proud and pretty. There’s a note tucked into the stems with your name on it, and so you pull the little envelope out and open it.

Hi,

I hope you had a lovely time at the MTC. I really enjoyed meeting you. I’d love to take you out for dinner sometime. Hope this isn’t too forward,

Oscar

His number is written below. You let out a squeak. You can tell she wants to look over your shoulder or ask who it’s from, but she bites her tongue. Sammy’s your favorite student, and his parents are up there, too. But this feels like too much to share with a parent, so you shove the note in your pocket.

“Just a friend,” you lie.

“How sweet,” she says, nodding. “Well, I’d better be off. I’ll take Sammy out to the playground. We just wanted to stop in and chat.”

“Thank you,” you say, turning to her with a smile. “And sorry. Again.”

She gives you an amused smile. “It’s okay.”

You carry the note around in your pocket with you the whole day, unsure of what to do about it. Of course, all your students notice the flowers, and they tell all their friends at lunch, who then tell all their teachers. Suddenly everyone seems to need to borrow something from you, sticking their heads into your classroom and just then noticing the flowers. How pretty! Beautiful! Who are they from? You tell them all the same thing. A friend. It’s only when your favorite coworker, Maggie, comes into your classroom later that you finally tell someone.

The kids have all gone home for the day, and you’re cleaning up the last bits of paper from your class activity. She walks in and beelines for the bouquet on the desk.

“Okay, I have a theory,” she says.

“And what’s that?” You ask.

“Orange flowers,” she says. “Someone from your trip on Friday.”

“Papaya,” you correct softly.

“Huh?”

“They call it papaya, not orange,” you say. She gives you a look, one brow raised. “I know. I…”

You dig the envelope out of your pocket and throw it to her. She opens it and gasps, sinking down in your desk chair. She must reread it five times, letting out giddy noises.

“So when are you getting dinner?” She asks.

“I haven’t texted him yet,” you admit.

She stares at you with wide eyes. “He’s your favorite driver and he gave you his number and you didn’t text him?”

“That’s the thing though, Mags,” you say with a sigh. You lean against one of the desks. “He’s an F1 driver. I’m… me.”

“Yeah, and he liked you enough to send flowers to your classroom.”

“It’s not that, it’s…” you shrug. “Those guys date supermodels and actresses and pro athletes. I’m… a teacher.”

“Babe, if you don’t text him you’ll regret it,” she says. “Big time. Just give him a shot.”

You take your flowers home with you, placing them carefully in the passenger seat of your car. You set them on your kitchen counter. They oddly feel like they belong there, like that’s what the room has been missing, though you didn’t know it before. And as you sit there and eat dinner, you take out your phone and type in a new number.

…..

It takes a while for your schedules to line up, but when they finally do, you find that Oscar’s a fun person to go on a date with. Fun might be an understatement, actually. You’ve never had a better time on a date.

You’ve been texting since the day he sent you the flowers, back and forth trying to coordinate a date at first. And then it turned into little funny texts, photos of things throughout your days that made you both smile. You update him on your class, he tells you what chaos Lando’s been causing. He sends memes, and you send him ones back. By the time you actually see him in person again, it’s like you already know him.

You’d been worried that a date with someone like him was going to be a fancy restaurant that you would feel out of place at. But he suggests a little hole in the wall pub that he says is his favorite, and you eagerly agree. You meet him there in a casual outfit, jeans and a cute sweater. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweater too, his hair adorably messy. He has that same warm smile on his face.

The two of you sit and order, and any awkwardness you’d expected just isn’t there. It’s like you’re two old friends, already comfortable with each other. He jokes with you, and you match his dry humor step for step. He’s the only person you’ve ever been on a date with who doesn’t seem to bore of your stories about 5 year olds. His knee knocks against yours under the table, and you don’t pull away. You find yourself leaning closer, actually. You’re longing to reach across the table, to feel his skin against yours.

You look around later and realize it’s been quite a while since the two of you sat down. The restaurant is starting to empty out. Oscar seems to notice the same, and reluctantly asks for the bill, refusing when you try to pay for your own. You both stand up from the table and head for the door. You stop just outside, breathing in the cool night air.

He nods towards a nearby park. “Wanna take a walk?”

You definitely aren’t ready to say goodbye, so you agree. He sees you shiver slightly, and within seconds he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. It’s warm, like him, and it smells like him too. You smile bashfully up at him as you shove your arms through the sleeves. When your hand pops out, he wastes no time in linking your fingers together. You bite back a gasp.

His hand is warm against yours. It sends a shiver up your spine. You hold on tight to him and hope your palm isn’t sweaty.

He turns to look at you. “I had a really good time tonight.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“I was thinking, wondering I guess,” he says, “If you’d maybe want to do this again?”

You slow to a stop under a streetlight. He follows suit. You press your eyes shut.

“Oscar, I… I had a really good time. And I really like you,” you tell him. “But you’re world famous and I’m just me. I just don’t know…”

He squeezes your hand. “We can take it slow.”

You sigh and open your eyes to look at him. The fluorescent light shines off his fluffy hair and his cheekbones. He has a hopeful look in his eye that you’d hate to rid him of.

“You make me feel grounded,” he says. Your heart twists in your chest. “You have since that day at the MTC. You’ve just got this calming presence. And I think you’re funny, and pretty, and- yeah.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

He blushes. “Shut up.”

It’s scary, really, to think about. You want to try but he’s a bit intimidating, no matter how well you get along. And the attention that will come from dating him is even scarier. But you think of Sammy, hiding behind your legs, and how you’re trying to teach your students to be big and brave, and how you should try that, too.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “I think you’re pretty too,” you admit, just to watch his cheeks grow redder. A sheepish smile crosses his lips, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “And kind, and funny. So yeah. We should do this again.”

“Cool,” Oscar says.

“Cool,” you agree.

Then he kisses you under the streetlamp, his hand still linked with yours. And yeah, you could get used to this.

…..

Two months later, when Sammy comes into class, he points an excited finger at you.

“I saw you on TV!” He squeaks.

You laugh. “Did you?”

He nods assertively. “My mum said I was probably wrong, but I know it was you. You were holding hands with Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You laugh and put a finger to your lips. He takes the hint, but he laughs the whole way to his seat. You think it might be time to talk to Oscar about going public with your relationship. After all, if the five year olds are catching on, the adults will be soon, too.

When your students find out, they beg you to take them to a race. You think back to the McLaren field trip and decide you’re never, ever taking eighteen 5 year olds anywhere near a race track. That would be bad for everyone’s health. But when Sammy shows up as a grid kid at the next British Grand Prix, that’s all on Oscar. It’s definitely not because he’s your favorite student.

Okay, maybe it is.

a/n: my lovely 🐈❤️‍🩹 anon sent me a photo of Oscar with a grid kid & said: Oscar and Sammy. Please look at this photo I screamed over it. can imagine teacher!reader standing off to the side trying not to cry over how cute Oscar is tbh. anyways thanks for reading!!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan

#Oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri fanfic #Oscar piastri fluff #formula one fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one x reader #formual one oneshot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #honeywrites #op81

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letteredlettered · 2 months

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One of the best moments in TGCF is when Xian Lian is lying stabbed in the road in Lang-Er Bay, seriously thinking about committing genocide, and the merchant bumps into him, drops his rice, cusses and yells at him, and then a bit later comes back and apologizes for being angry and gives Xian Lian his bamboo hat. The reason it is the best is that we expect one moment of kindness. This is what happens in a book like this. We know that Xie Lian has to have an epiphany about humanity to draw him back from the brink of utter and complete darkness. We know he has to have a catalyst that makes it so he does not commit genocide and decides to save everyone instead. This is how these stories go. But in these stories, that moment is usually given to us by an innocent child. Or it's given to us by someone who is just a purer soul than all the rest. In the set-up for this scene, you fully expect the one who will give Xie Lian the will to save humanity will be the water merchant who has been wanting to help Xie Lian the whole time he was lying in the road with a sword through him. That water merchant has been shown to be more compassionate than the rest and has been held back by his wife, who fears the God of Misfortune.

And yet, in TGCF, that moment is not given to us by a pure, innocent child. It is not given to us by one person who just happens to be kinder than most. It's not. It's not. It's given to us by just your every day guy having a shitty day who is just as cruel and nasty to Xian Lian as everyone else, but who takes a moment to calm down and sees this pathetic loser in the rain and is like "hey, I lost my temper, sorry, don't be a pathetic loser, here's my hat, stopped getting rained on and looking so sad, go home."

It's not this pure shining moment about the inherent goodness of humanity. It's this pure shining moment about people doing shitty things and people doing kind things and how that's all mixed up within us and we're always both. It's that that gives Xie Lian the will to survive and sacrifice everything to save all humanity. It's not because there is good alongside the bad but because we're always both, and Xie Lian knows that he is both, and he thinks that's worth saving. He thinks it's worth being obliterated for.

When he's not obliterated for it, he lives for it instead.

#tgcf #xie lian

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soaps-mohawk · 4 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 2 - Adjustments

Summary: You're struggling a bit in your adjustment to your new life, and you're finding some of them are easier to get along with than others. Luckily you're not in it alone.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Author's Note: I'm so just overwhelmed with the attention this fic has gotten, but not in a bad way I promise! I'm just surprised is all. Thank you everyone that has read and reblogged and commented. I love all of you and so, since I have no self control, here is Chapter 2. Lots more world building and dialogue in this part, but I promise good stuff is coming.

Also I promise Soap will get his time soon. He's just the hardest for me to write, and you'll see why in this chapter.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“She was lying.”

Price doesn’t bother looking up as a dark figure leans against the wall next to him. He stares out at the empty space between the barracks and the mess hall, not much traffic between the buildings during this time of day.

“About how she got to the institute.”

“Or at least not telling the whole truth.” Price says, turning to look at Simon. “Something tells me she’d talk if we asked.”

“She’s soft.” Simon says, letting his gaze drift off into the distance.

“She’s a civilian.” Price counters. “The CIA did a little training, but she’ll need some work. We can’t leave her completely defenseless...”

Simon turns to face him again. “There’s something else.”

Price pushes himself off the wall, heading back inside. Simon follows, the two of them making their way down the hall to his office. “There’s hundreds of American military bases across the world, thousands of regiments they could have chosen from, and yet, they sent her to us.”

Simon closes the door behind him as Price sinks into his desk chair. “You think it was deliberate?”

Price pulls open one of the drawers, pulling out the file Kate had given him. “Laswell said the CIA has had eyes on her for years.” He slides it across his desk to Simon. “There’s a lot of why's in this situation, and a lot of how’s. Like, if what she’s saying is true, how did a Staff Sergeant get his daughter into FIOT practically overnight?”

Simon glances up at him over the top of the file. “You think there’s something else going on with this Initiative.”

Price nods. “I do. I think there’s more than one experiment being run, and we’re the guinea pigs.”

You stare at your reflection in the mirror as you run a comb through your damp hair. You look tired, the dark circles that have plagued your face for the last few weeks looking even darker now. It’s been a long day, so long it’s hard to believe it’s only been a matter of hours since you boarded the helicopter in London.

Your new pack had made themselves scarce after dinner, leaving you to your own devices. You had been left alone after lunch too, and you had spent that time laying in bed, resting after the overwhelming scenting.

You’d played back the last few hours in your mind. Leaving London in the helicopter, meeting your new Pack Alpha, Laswell leaving, meeting your new pack, the scenting. You had plenty to think about, to stress over, and you had been surprised when the knock came at your door for dinner. You were equally surprised to see Gaz and Soap waiting for you.

You’d been sandwiched between them again as you walked to the mess. It was busier for dinner, and the eyes weren’t quite so quick to look away with the alphas missing. You know they have to be curious, with an omega on base following around two members of a SpecOps team, smelling like them. You know what they were probably thinking of you, what they were thinking your presence means.

You’ve begun to understand Price’s rules a bit more.

Price and Ghost had joined you as Soap said they would, coming in late from whatever they had been busy doing. You had been seated next to Soap, Ghost taking his other side while Price sat next to Gaz. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to you how close Soap and Ghost sat, and you remembered the look in Ghost’s eyes when Soap had approached to scent you. How his defensive stare had turned icy, threatening even, when he’d gotten close to you as if you were capable of hurting Soap. It had been a silent warning. If you tried anything, you’d have him to contend with.

Ghost is territorial, more so than most alphas. You had seen it just a bit in Price, but only because you had been watching for it. Ghost was silent in his claim, but his gaze spoke of his territorialism. As you sat at the table with them, you slowly felt the stares lessen, the curious alphas and betas around you slowly turning away from your table until you were left in peace. You knew it was all thanks to a well-pointed glare from the second alpha at the table.

They’d escorted you back to the barracks before disappearing again, leaving you alone. You’d opted for a shower to try and clear your head, exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs but your mind was racing too much to really get any rest. You haven’t been told what their normal schedules entail or even what they look like, but you expect an early morning tomorrow. Since Price had said at least one of them needed to escort you around base, that likely meant you were going to be constrained to their schedules.

You know even when they’re not away, their days are probably full of training and briefings, much like yours had been for three months. They’re probably up early, earlier than you’d like to be, and then they go non-stop all day.

You wonder if they ever get a break.

Maybe this is a break for them.

You sit on the edge of the bed after you finish your routine, eyeing the pillows and blankets stacked at the end. They’re military issue, not as soft or as plush as you might have preferred. This is your new normal, though. Comfort isn’t exactly going to be a high priority.

Tears prick your eyes as you run your hand over the comforter. You know it’s the exhaustion, the stress of the day beginning to weigh on you. You’re worn out, and that’s causing a slip in the tight reins you keep on your mood. Omegas and alphas were both prone to being moody, and those who were unrestrained could lose control quickly. Alphas were quick to anger, while omegas could get depressed very easily. Exhaustion drives both to being grumpy, though alphas will descend into irritability and anger, while omegas will get whiny and weepy.

You hate it, how easily you can be driven to cry. How easily you can lose control. It makes you feel weak and helpless, but that’s partially by design. It was supposed to be your pack’s job to fix that, to give you that support and take care of you.

Except you don’t know your pack.

What would they do if you approached them like this, all teary and needy? Would instinct take over and snap them into their roles? Or would they give you an awkward pat on the back and leave you to take care of yourself? Gaz would help you, you think. He had slipped into that role so easily during the scenting. Your fingers twitch on the bedspread, your mind telling you to seek him out, track him down, even if it’s only to catch a whiff of his scent again.

Your phone screen lights up where it’s sitting on the nightstand, drawing your attention from the door. Kate had given you the phone just this morning before you left the hotel. It had her number on it, as well as your pack’s. You’d half expected to find messages already from them when you’d turned it on, but there had been none. They had kept that boundary of meeting in person first.

You pick up the phone, checking the message. It’s from Price.

Breakfast is at 0700. I’ll take you to see the Omega Specialist after.

Seven o’clock. It’s not terribly early. You’d eaten around the same time at the institute. You’ll get to meet the Omega Specialist as well tomorrow. You’ve met plenty of them in your time as an omega, but something about the idea of having someone there who knows, who understands is comforting to you.

You send a reply in acknowledgement for tomorrow’s plan before setting an alarm for tomorrow morning. There’s an uneasy feeling under your skin, a tickling in the back of your mind that you can’t seem to relax. Your eyes are drawn to the desk where the shirts still sit, and before you know it you’re moving to the desk, letting your fingers trail over each one.

You grab Price’s shirt, taking it back to your bed. You curl up with your back facing the door, holding the shirt against your chest, letting the scent of tobacco smoke and whiskey fill your nose. Silent tears slide down your cheeks, your face pressing into the pillow to muffle your sobs.

As you try to muffle your tears, you miss the sound of boots pausing in front of your door, the person on the other side standing there for a moment before continuing down the hall.

You let out a groan as your alarm pulls you from sleep. You had drifted in and out for a few hours before finally managing to get a couple precious hours of sleep. You’d woken when the others got up. You knew they were trying to be quiet but you had heard them shuffling around, talking quietly amongst each other. You’re normally a fairly deep sleeper, but in a new place you always struggle.

A new place surrounded by almost complete strangers.

You turn off your alarm, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. They’re burning a bit, the exhaustion still weighing heavy on your shoulders. You pad to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face to try and make yourself at least look more alive than you feel. The last thing you need is them getting worried about you. That’s attention you’re not sure you want right now.

You blink sleepily at your closet, trying to decide what to wear. Were you allowed to wear anything? You didn’t have much besides the basics, since the only thing you had been allowed to wear at the institute was its uniform and the clothes they provided. Then when you were with the CIA, they had provided clothes for you to wear as well. The things you have now had been bought by Kate before you left D.C.

Everyone on base wore similar variants of the same uniform. You’re not military, though, so you don’t think those rules apply to you. No one had said anything about your state of dress yesterday. You opt for comfort, knowing you’d likely find out soon if you were going to be forced to dress differently too.

You’re tying your shoes when the knock sounds on your door. You had heard the others moving around, footsteps in the hallway, opening and closing doors, quiet voices talking and Soap laughing at something. You know it’s one of them, yet the nervous tickle at the back of your head is back.

Soap is leaning casually against your doorframe when you open the door. His face lights up in a smile as he sees you. “Morning, bonny. Sleep alright?”

“Yeah.” You shrug. “Tossed and turned for a while.”

“We didne keep ye up did we?” He asks, his smile faltering just a bit.

You shake your head. “No, I never sleep well the first few nights in a new place.”

“Well, our beds are always open if ye need something more comfortable.” He winks at you playfully.

Your face warms at his words, the double meaning not lost on you. You were right, Soap was going to be the one to push your boundaries the most.

Gaz elbows him in the ribs as he passes. “She’s been here a day, mate, don’t go scaring her off now.” He leans on the other side of your doorframe, giving you a smile. “Morning.”

“Morning.” You say, your face still warm from Soap’s teasing.

“You hungry?” Gaz asks.

You nod. You do feel hungry this morning, likely a side effect from your emotional night last night. You step out of your room, the two betas stepping back to give you space as you close the door behind you. Ghost is leaning against the wall next to his door, his eyes watching with the typical cautious disinterest that seemed to be his default setting.

Gaz and Soap sandwich you between them again, close enough their arms brush yours as you walk. It was almost as if they could sense your inner turmoil, the neediness still tugging at the back of your mind. If Ghost hadn’t been trailing the three of you, you might have been tempted to give in and grip their sleeves, or slip your hands into theirs. How would Ghost respond to such a bold move? The mental image of your body flying through the air as he punted you into next week almost makes you laugh.

Price is already seated at a table frowning at his phone over a cup of coffee. Gaz and Soap load up your tray for you, something you’re getting used to rather quickly. It was expected from the alphas, or at least Price, to coddle you a bit, but it seemed the betas were more than happy to get in on it as well.

The thought makes something flutter in your chest.

You’re seated between Gaz and Price again once you reach the table, Price greeting you with a tired smile. “Morning. Sleep alright?”

“Not really.” You say honestly. “New place and all. I’ll settle in eventually.”

“Maybe the Omega Specialist can give you some ideas to help.” He glances at his watch before looking at you as you spoon a heaping spoonful of porridge into your mouth. “Take your time. We have until 8.”

You listen to the conversation at the table as you eat, Gaz and Soap talking about a football game that’s on tonight. You feel eyes on you, your skin prickling a bit. You glance up, half expecting Ghost to be glowering at you again, but his gaze is focused on his eggs. You cast a quick glance around the mess, turning slightly to look behind you.

Three tables over, you find the gaze of some soldier focused on you. You haven’t paid much attention to anyone else on the base, but then again you haven’t had much time or reason to yet. You can’t read the expression on his face as he stares at you, but you feel a shiver run down your spine as your eyes meet his.

He stares at you for a few seconds before his gaze moves slightly past you, quickly dropping back to his plate. You turn around, finding Ghost staring just past your head. His eyes are narrowed, his scent coming off stronger than it had been. You can practically see his hackles raised, the warning clear in the air. You feel the urge to curl in on yourself, the threatening aura radiating from him makes you want to cower.

It doesn't go unnoticed by those at the table either.

“Easy, Ghost.” Price says calmly, Gaz turning to follow his line of sight.

“Bloody wanker.” Ghost grumbles before rising from the table.

You turn back around, but the soldier that had been staring at you is gone.

You nervously pick at your sweatshirt sleeves as you sit in the plastic chair next to Price. You’re still on edge a bit from what happened at breakfast. It wasn’t so much being stared at that bothered you. After now three meals in the mess, you’ve almost come to expect it. It’s Ghost’s reaction that has your mind still reeling.

“I’ve always hated the medical center.” Price says with a sigh as he leans his head back against the wall. “It smells too sterile. Makes my nose burn. Reminds me of too many close calls.”

His words jar you a bit. You hadn’t even thought about that aspect of his job. He’s used to getting shot at, to getting into fights, running head first into danger that would send most running the other way. You wonder how many times he’s been the one with the close call, and how many others he’s had to watch have their own.

You wonder how many times he’s had to make that trip to tell someone’s family.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as the door across from you opens. Price pushes himself to his feet, and you follow as a kind looking woman steps out. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. You don’t have anything against male Omega Specialists, but you were already surrounded by men. Sure you have Kate, but she’s half a world away.

She’s tall, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Despite being a doctor she’s dressed casually, no white coat or gloves to be seen. Her eyes are light green and crease in the corners when she smiles.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Keller.” She introduces herself, shaking Price’s hand.

American. You think, silently breathing another sigh of relief. Kate really had pulled some strings with this one.

“Captain John Price.” He says.

You introduce yourself when she turns to you, shaking your hand. Her voice is soft and gentle, the scent of beta coming off her in waves.

“Come on in,” She says, leading you into the office. “Sit anywhere you like. Make yourselves comfortable.”

Her office isn’t what you expected either. Instead of the harsh fluorescents, the lighting is softer, warmer. There’s paintings and posters all over the walls, along with several plants. There’s a desk covered in books and paperwork in one corner and a bookshelf with several books packed into it in the other. There’s a couch on one wall, and a couple plush looking chairs on the other.

You move to one of the chairs, sinking down onto it. It envelops you in softness, and you feel as if you might sink into it and never be able to get out. After a day of hard plastic and stiff blankets, it nearly makes you weep.

Price takes the chair next to you, Dr. Keller sitting on the couch across from you. The office smells good, a light, neutral scent in the air aside from the pure almondy scent of beta.

“Alright,” She says, holding a tablet and a stack of files in her lap. “I always like to start by introducing myself and telling you a bit about me, then we’ll get into the important stuff.”

She jumps into telling you about herself. Where she grew up: California. Where she studied: UC Berkeley. What institute she did her residency at: West Coast Training Academy. Where she worked last before Kate called her in: some poor inner city institute in LA.

“Now, on to the more important stuff.” She says, turning on the tablet. “I got your medical records yesterday. You’re quite the healthy girl.”

“Yes ma'am. I have good genes. That’s what my mom used to say.” You respond.

Dr. Keller smiles. “Hardly even been sick. Your heats are all normal, too, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You say. “Except for a three month stretch two years ago.”

“Yes, the heat sickness epidemic that hit America.” She says.

You nod. “FIOT locked down completely and everyone was supposed to quarantine, but I heard a rumor that it was one of the beta food workers. She snuck out to see her alpha boyfriend and brought it in with her. We only think it was her because she disappeared not long after the first omega got sick.”

Dr. Keller hums. “I know not everyone was so willing to take it seriously. You made a full recovery, though. No lasting side effects, I’m sure thanks to the state of the art medical facilities that FIOT keeps.”

“Yes, ma’am. We were lucky it was just a mild case.”

“That is lucky.” She flips through something on the tablet. “Your lab results all look phenomenal. I like to do checkups monthly, just to ensure everything is working as it should. I know the CIA gave you quite the cocktail of vaccines while you were with them.” She turns her gaze to Price. “Captain Price, I’ve sent in a request for your team’s vaccination records as well. I’m sure you’ve had everything under the sun, but I’d like to ensure there’s no risk of any accidental exposures.”

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Price says. “If RAMC gives you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll get them for you myself.”

“Thank you, Captain.” She says. “One last bit in this part and then we can move on. I see FIOT issued an implant before you left, as is standard practice.”

You nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. You’ve had more than enough time for it to take effect so we won’t have to worry about any accidental slip ups during your next heat.”

Your cheeks warm at her words a bit. You’ve been trying to avoid thinking about that inevitable side of things.

“And your next heat is roughly six weeks away.” She says, looking at the calendar. “Don't be surprised if it comes a little earlier now that you’re being exposed to alphas again.”

Your stomach twists nervously at that thought. It was common for heats to be triggered early after exposure to alphas, especially after such a prolonged period without exposure to them. It wasn’t likely to start tomorrow, but you knew it could jump a week or two due to the natural pheromones alphas put off, and the instinctual call for the alpha/omega bond.

“You’re planning for the claiming to take place during the heat?” Dr. Keller asks.

“Yes, that’s the plan.” Price says.

“That is the most natural time for it.” Dr. Keller says. “Of course, it is always up to omega preference in the end.”

You don’t miss the way her eyes dart to you for a second.

“Now that that’s over with,” She says, putting the tablet to the side. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to do this next part with just the two of us.”

A beat of silence passes before you realize she’s asking you. Her eyes are on you, and so are Price’s. She’s asking you. She’s asking you what you want.

“I-I guess...yeah.” You stutter over your words, not quite sure how to answer. Is there a wrong answer? Would Price be upset if you said yes? Would Dr. Keller be upset if you said no? Your eyes turn to Price, trying to gauge his reaction.

“It’s up to you.” He says softly. “We’re here for you.”

You sit up a little straighter at his words, nodding your head. “Y-Yes. That’s okay.”

Price pushes himself to stand up. “I’ll be right outside.”

The air inside the room seems to lighten as he leaves, Dr. Keller reclining back on the couch as the door clicks shut. She pulls out a stack of papers and a pen before she looks at you. Your palms are sweating, and you’re starting to think you’d like the chair to swallow you whole.

“This next part can feel a bit personal, but I just want you to know that everything you say in here is as confidential as you’d like it to be. Captain Price is right. I am an Omega Specialist, I’m here for you. I’m not just a doctor, I’m here to help you in all aspects of being an omega. I know FIOT teaches a lot, mainly obedience and compliance. I want to make it clear that you can be honest with me.” She holds up the stack of papers. “No one is going to see these papers but me, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You nod.

“You don’t have to be so formal with me.” She smiles. “You can call me Dr. Keller, or Doc. You could even call me an evil bitch if you want, it won’t phase me any.”

You can’t help the small smile that forms on your face.

“I’ve got some questions I’d like to ask you. They’re a sort of tracker to measure how well you’re settling in and bonding with your new pack. I’d like to meet once a week until your next heat just to see how well you’re settling in. After that we can meet as often as you’d like. Sound good?”

You nod in approval. It sounds like a lot, but you also know you’re going to have a lot of downtime, even with your pack on base.

“Alright, let’s get started. How are you settling in? I know it’s barely been a day, but I want to know how you feel here.”

Your heart begins to pound in your chest. How do you feel here? How do you feel after being pulled from the institute and taken to a training facility where you found out you’d be moving halfway across the world to be a military pack’s omega.

This wasn’t what you had expected when you reached the age where you became an available omega. Most omegas at FIOT came from rich, powerful, important families and your purpose there was to be groomed into the perfect omega to return right back to that world.

You thought you would be chosen quickly. You had expected it. With your scores and your high ratings and your status, you were what most alphas dreamed of. Yet, the years had passed and though there was some interest, nothing had ever come of it. You weren’t alone in it. There were others like you, those who excelled at being an omega, but then seemed to stall in the selection once they came of age.

Of course, now that you look back on it, you can’t help but think it might have been done on purpose. The Omega Initiative was new, you had been told during your first briefing explaining why you were taken to a remote building somewhere outside of D.C. and greeted not by your new pack, but swathes of CIA agents. Military packs were nothing new, but they wanted to utilize the naturally formed packs and make them stronger and more stable by adding in omegas.

Only highly skilled omegas were considered for the program, but of course you had no say in whether you were going to partake or not. They chose the omegas and they decided where you would end up.

It wasn’t that dissimilar from being chosen from an Institute. At FIOT there was a screening process packs had to go through to be determined eligible to have access to omega files. Then the pack would have to send a neutral emissary, usually a beta, to meet the omegas in person and choose on behalf of the alpha. Most institutes don’t have that strenuous of a process, and some don’t have a process at all. In some, alphas themselves could walk in and choose an omega without even so much as a background check.

Omegas never got a say. As soon as you were handed over to an institute, the ability to choose was taken from you. Whoever your caretakers were as a pup signed over their rights to you and the institute became your legal guardian. They dictated your life up until you joined a new pack.

You had hoped it would be someone rich. If nothing else, you’d get to live a cushy life and you’d never have to worry about anything. When they told you what was really going to happen to you, you had almost cried. You did cry, late at night curled up in your bunk after hours of training and briefings.

Kate picked you for this pack specifically because she knew them and she knew you could handle them and their world.

Maybe if you had been worse at being an omega, things would have been better for you.

Or maybe they would have been worse.

“It’s...different.” You finally say, picking at your sleeves again. “But in a lot of ways, it’s similar to The Institute. It always takes me time to settle somewhere new.”

“Me too.” Dr. Keller says, writing some things down. “And with the time change, it’s just so much harder. I feel like I should be in bed right now, but it’s 8 AM. Have you started nesting?”

You shake your head. “No. I don’t even feel the urge to.”

“That’s fine.” She says, writing something else down. “In truth, I’d be more concerned if you were.”

Your eyebrows raise a bit. “Why?”

“During an adjustment period for an omega, especially in a new pack, there can be something that happens called false instincts. The sudden urge to nest, a drive to bond with pack members too soon, false heats. It’s usually brought on by a sudden change in environment, like when omegas are taken from a place where they’ve spent sometimes years with no exposure to alphas and are suddenly thrown into a space with a lot of alphas. It’s more common in larger packs where you have alphas, betas, and other omegas.”

“Could it happen in smaller packs?” You ask.

“It’s possible, though rare. It can cause some serious issues down the line when those instincts are actually supposed to begin to show up, like adjustment sickness. I’d say if you’re starting to feel the urge to nest or bond before the first week is up, then come talk to me, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You nod.

She smiles, turning the page. “How far have you gotten with the bonding process?”

“Just the scenting yesterday.” You answer.

“And how did that go?”

You pick at the loose thread on your sweatshirt. “Fine. It was...overwhelming.”

“They can be.” Dr. Keller says. “The new members of your pack, how are you getting along with them?”

“Fine, I guess.” You shrug. “I like Soap and Gaz. Price, he’s...he’s nice, and Ghost...” You trail off, not sure how to answer. If she’d asked before breakfast you might have said he doesn't like you. He doesn’t want you to be part of his pack, but after what happened at breakfast...

You can’t be sure he did it for you. He could have thought that soldier was staring at Soap or Gaz or even Price. He could have thought the soldier was staring at him and was annoyed with it. He had scared off the stares at every meal you’d eaten together, but how often did they get stared at? You couldn’t know if that was a daily occurrence and he was just growing sick of it.

He could be annoyed with you because you’re drawing in the stares.

“I don’t know what to think about him yet.” You answer.

She writes something else down, going through a few more questions with you. How is your appetite? How are you sleeping? Are you taking care of your needs? Do you have any concerns?

Before you know it the hour has passed and you’re walking out the door into the fluorescent, sterile hallway of the medical center.

“Remember, you have my number. If you need anything, I’m here for you.” Dr. Keller says as you part ways.

You walk with Price out of the medical center, glad to be out in the fresh air. It’s not particularly warm, and the sun is hidden behind a layer of clouds, but it’s better than the medical center.

“What do you think?” Price asks as you follow him back to the barracks.

“I think it went well.” You say, mind still reeling from an eventful morning. You’re beginning to feel your restless night.

“Do you like Dr. Keller?” He asks, probing a bit.

You nod. “Yes, sir. She’s nice.”

“Good.” He says, opening the door to the barracks for you. “I have to leave to oversee training for the next few hours.” He glances at his watch. “One of us will come get you for lunch.”

You nod. Of course you’d find yourself alone again between meals. You’re beginning to notice a pattern. “Yes, sir.”

His hand is warm as it settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently. You’re surprised by the touch, as small as it is. Were they too fighting the urge to get close to you, like you had this morning?

You can still feel the warmth of his hand even after it’s disappeared and he’s gone. You head for the rec room, deciding to avoid the constricting feeling of being shut in your room for the time being.

The TV is on when you enter, but the room is empty, playing some morning talk show. You move to the bookshelf against the wall, letting your eyes scan the titles. There's a surprising lack of military-based books shoved into the packed shelf. Of course there's a handful of old manuals and handbooks, nothing that you're particularly concerned about needing to read. You let out a sigh, standing on your toes to reach a Brandon Sanderson novel.

You look around the room but the remote for the TV seems to be missing, and it’s too high on the wall for you to reach the power button, so you leave it on, curling up on one corner of the couch as you begin to read.

You’re not sure how much time has passed when something moves in your peripheral. The sun has come out briefly, shining in through the windows. You look up from the book, suddenly feeling very small under Ghost’s gaze. His eyes are narrowed as he stares down at you, a thousand things flashing through your mind. Are you in his spot? Is this his book? Had he come to the rec room hoping to be alone and here you are infringing in his space?

“Come on.” He says, his voice rougher than it had been this morning. “Lunch.”

He’s already turned and heading out the door as you scramble up, leaving the book on the coffee table as you hurry to catch up to him. His steps are quick and wide, and you find yourself having to almost speedwalk to keep up with him.

Your thoughts are jumbled as you follow him out of the barracks and off towards the mess. Why would they send him to get you? Was he the only one available? Yesterday they had time before lunch to return to the barracks, or had that only been because of you? Or were they perhaps hoping this might offer a chance for the two of you to bond a bit?

Or were they entirely blind to Ghost’s disinterest in your existence?

Perhaps they were used to it. After so long together, perhaps they just thought it was normal. If you were brave enough to bring it up, would you get a “oh that’s just how he is” in response?

You can’t see the others as you enter the mess, Ghost leading you to the line. He stands behind you like a hulking shadow, his scent covered by the smell of gunpowder and sweat. You fill your own tray for the first time, grabbing things that look appetizing. You’ll have to get used to it eventually, even though the others insisted on doing it for the time being. When they’re not here, you’ll have to do it yourself.

Ghost leads you to an empty table, and you opt to sit across from him. You begin to eat, taking big bites to avoid the need for conversation, not that you really thought Ghost would strike up a conversation with you. Your eyes flicker around the room nervously, glancing over the entrances time and time again, waiting for the others to arrive.

“Stop twitching. They’re on their way.”

The words cut straight through you and you snap your head around to face Ghost. He’s got his mask pulled up to his nose, your eyes immediately drawn to the exposed pale skin. There’s light stubble on his chin. You remember how that had felt on your own skin when he’d scented you. He’s blonde, you think, or at least has light hair judging by the color of the stubble. There’s a scar on his chin, almost hidden by the stubble.

Your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught in your nervous fretting. Of course, you should have known he would take notice. There’s not a lot they don’t notice, you think. Though, when your survival depends on noticing even the smallest detail of anything or anyone...

You jump as a tray is set down next to yours, your eyes snapping up to see Gaz with a smile on his face. You turn back to look at Ghost, his mask pulled back down but you see a slight shake to his shoulders for a second.

Was he...laughing at you?

Your attention is drawn from him as Gaz takes a seat next to you, sitting close enough his arm is almost brushing yours. Price and Soap taking their usual spots as well. You’re beginning to pick up on the patterns that existed around them, and their own patterns. Perhaps that will make it easier for you to fit yourself into their lives. You knew from the start they weren’t going to change to fit you into their lives. They couldn’t. You were going to have to find a way to fit into their lives.

Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, abnormally quiet as he watches you warily. He walks you to your door, leaning on the doorframe as you step inside.

“You alright?” He asks, big brown eyes shining with worry as he looks you over.

“Yeah.” You nod, shifting on your feet. “Just tired. I think I might take a nap.”

He nods, and you’re sure he doesn't quite believe you, but he doesn’t press any. “Alright. Happy napping.”

You close the door as he leaves, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. It’s been a long day and it’s only lunch. Between the probing questions from Dr. Keller and the few minutes you had spent alone with Ghost you feel exhausted. It was good to know you weren’t entirely broken in your lack of nesting instincts, and perhaps your turmoil with belonging in this place wasn’t quite as abnormal as you thought.

What to do about Ghost.

He’s said more words to you today than he did in the entirety of the previous day. In fact, you think today might be the first time he’s spoken to you at all. You know he doesn’t approve of you, and you’d go so far as to say he doesn’t like you. You can imagine he fought the hardest against you being added to the pack. They were fine without you. It didn’t take a genius to see that.

You’re an outsider. A civilian. A risk.

An unneeded disruption to their lives.

You pull your phone out of your pocket, staring at the dark screen. You know Ghost might never accept you. He won’t want to claim you, he won’t mate you, but...perhaps you might just get him to tolerate you.

You unlock your phone, sending a quick text to Kate.

“Can you get a book for me?”

You regret your decision momentarily as you step into the rec room. Gaz and Soap are lounged on the couch, beer bottles open on the coffee table. The TV is playing ads, their attention on each other. You almost feel as if you’re infringing upon a private moment as they laugh, half tempted to race back to your room and hide until your hunger draws you out or someone breaks down the door to get to you.

“Hey!” Gaz’s face lights up when he sees you, Soap turning to look at you.

“Hey, bonny!” His face lights up with a smile.

“Do you mind if I join you?” You ask, shifting nervously on your feet.

“Not at all.” Gaz says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to him. “You want a beer?”

You shake your head. “No thank you. Never could get past the taste.”

Soap throws his head back as he laughs, slapping Gaz’s shoulder. “I keep tellin’ ye!”

“Yet you keep drinking it!” Gaz attempts to defend himself.

“Cause it’s th’ only thing we got!” Soap argues, leaning around Gaz to stare at you. “So, ye a football fan, bonny?”

“Well, I watched the World Cup a couple times as a kid.” You say. “My household was more of an American football and baseball household. Two of my older brothers played soccer, though they never were very serious about it. Mostly just did it to fulfill my dad’s physical activity extracurricular requirement.”

“What did you do to fulfill that requirement?” Gaz asks as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Softball. I was...not good at it.” You laugh. “I could catch and throw, but I don’t think I hit the ball a single time I was at bat.”

Both of them chuckle, turning back to the TV as the ad ends. “Don’t worry, we’ll turn you into a proper football fan yet.” Gaz says.

You watch the game with them, and it doesn’t take you long to realize they’re rooting for opposing teams. They explain things to you here and there in between yelling at the TV and each other. Despite how loud they are, you find yourself relaxing further and further, the tension from the last two days easing away, even as the two betas yell at each other over a soccer game.

Gaz tenses for a second as he feels a sudden weight on his shoulder. He turns his head slightly, noticing you’ve fallen asleep, your head drooping onto his shoulder. His lips quirk up in a smile as he gently nudges Soap.

“Wha?” Soap asks, turning to look at him.

He jerks his head to the side, leaning back just slightly so Soap can see. A grin breaks out on the younger man’s face and he pulls out his phone. “Aww, look a’ that. Think we should wake ‘er and get ‘er tae bed?”

“Nah.” Gaz says. “Let her sleep for now. She probably needs it.”

You sleep soundly through overtime, Gaz not moving until the post game is over, letting you sleep as long as possible. He knows you have to be tired, after the last few days and the time difference. You looked tired today, with dark circles and droopy eyes. He hates to wake you, but he knows you can’t sleep on the couch.

He nudges you gently, trying to rouse you. “Hey.” He nudges you again, your head finally lifting off his shoulder.

You blink sleepily, rubbing at your eyes. You make a quiet sound in protest of being awake, eyes drooping closed again.

“Come on, love.” He says, keeping you upright. “It’s time for bed.”

You cover your yawn with your hand, blinking at him sleepily. “Bed?” You murmur sleepily, Gaz smiling softly at how adorable you are in this state.

“Yeah, you’ll be more comfortable in bed.” He pushes himself to stand, hands on your arms to pull you up.

You make another sound in protest, nearly falling against his chest when he gets you on your feet. He wraps an arm around you, letting you lean on him as he guides you back to bed, Soap cleaning up the mess they had made.

You’re more awake once you get to your door, blinking up at him with bleary eyes. “‘S fun.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. “Should do that more often.”

“You’re always welcome to join us.” He says. “Get some rest. You’ve had a long week.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Night, love.”

He waits until your door is closed before heading back down the hallway towards the rec room, a small smile on his face.

Taglist:

@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx, @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog, @blue-blue0, @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey, @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee, @141trash @ghostlythots, @lothiriel9, @dillybuggg, @beebeechaos, @konigsmissedbeltloop, @kaoyamamegami, @thychuvaluswife, @idkkkkkkk8363, @wallwriterstuff, @bisky-business, @smile-child-13, @anomiatartle, @dangerkittenclaws, @bless-my-demons, @mystic60, @evolutionarry, @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff, @cadotoast, @linaangel, @rancid-wasp, @codsunshine, @thriving-n-jiving, @slayerx147, @ferns-fics

(If you'd like to join the taglist, let me know!)

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #a/b/o #alpha beta omega dynamics

2K notes · View notes

thexsilentxwordsmith · 5 months

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort.

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him.

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold.

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low.

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind.

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight.

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simin ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost #cod ghost #ghost call of duty

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chatsukimi · 1 month

Text

ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋꜱ

featuring: touchstarved!gojo, slight enemies to lovers. synopsis: gojo satoru can't understand why he keeps wanting to spar with you... until one time, you two get a little too close. masterlist

sparring with satoru is a pain above all else. yaga has been assigning you to hand to hand combat with satoru for weeks now- a suspiciously long amount of time without switching partners.

you kick, dodge a punch, and stare up at his shameless smile. each time you come close to landing a hit, he turns on infinity, then poof! your opportunity rushes out the window.

"no techniques allowed." you grit your teeth.

"oops." he holds his hands up in a faux surrender. "sorry, forgot."

he certainly did not forget.

this time, he charges at your torso, his annoyingly long arm closing distance on your shoulder at breakneck speed. you feel the limb dislocate. you wince. using his upper hand, gojo grabs your arms and pins you to the gymnasium floor. the air is knocked out of your lungs.

he's panting, his blue eyes clambering over you, under him. like always, he's too close to you- so close you see your own figure in the reflection of his watery irises. you could lift your hand up an inch to brush the sweat from his forehead. always. way too close.

his fingers trail across your elbow up towards your collarbone- whoosh.

infinity on again. he lets out a long exhale, scrunching his eyes shut as though pained.

that's when gojo thinks he's safe.

only, he's not really.

instead of giving up, you close your hand around the infinity and pull the whole thing, gojo and his infinity, towards you. your legs drag around his hips.

his eyes widen.

your hand pushes his chest then in the brisk manoeuvre, you're on top of him.

you think you see his soul poke its head out his mouth, tipped ajar in shock.

you don't know why you do what you do next. in some depraved performance, your fingers close in on his windpipe. you don't squeeze; the imagery is enough to satisfy. snowy white eyelashes fluttering to meet your gaze, the groan echoing out from his throat, the tight strain in his chest as he breathes shallowly, letting you way too close.

"they're watching," he murmurs.

shoko and geto. fear washes over you, and you're about to let go-

his own hand closes around your wrist.

he's staring at you darkly, goading you to move.

"they're watching," he says again, his hands suddenly at your waist pulling you closer. his tongue flicks over his bottom lip.

you're almost laying on his chest, face to face with your own deadly consumption.

"how long have you been beating me up just to get this close?" you tease.

"huh?"

truly innocently desperately confused, satoru has the gall to tighten his grip, hoisting himself up until he's sitting to lean over you again- if only slightly.

"we're just sparring, aren't we?" and he's telling himself this as his nose bumps against yours. and he's lying to himself that the way he's exploring your body is an act of aggression, not an act of compulsion. "you've been playing dirty tricks on me, but i can do it better."

dirty tricks? you think you see the thought passing through his concentrated face.

unfair, unfair, unfair-

how dare you provoke him let down his infinity? who do you think you are? how could you break him down through just one touch, leave him barrelling towards you for more?

unfair, unfair, unfair-

his hand rests by your jaw, stroking up your cheek, taking his precious time.

because sparring with you is the only time satoru gets to touch you.

he forces all his common sense out of his brain as he whispers, frustration coursing through his tone, "you're weak. your form is full of openings." and he's almost kissing you-

"time out, time out." shoko's voice cuts through the haze.

you feel you two being dragged apart by shoko and geto. the latter frowns at the white haired menace who's temporarily lost his obnoxious pride, silent.

the moment is awkward for everyone except for him.

gojo cocks his head to the side, looking at geto. "we were just fighting?"

geto sighs. just fighting?

you shiver as gojo's expressionless stare sticks onto you. curious.

the fight is over already...

but then why does he want to kiss you still?

#gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #gojo x you #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk fluff #jjk humor

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nouvellevqgue · 4 months

Text

FULL OF FAN BEHAVIOR

req: Saw your post for smau requests, maybe a Max Verstappen where people don't realise his girlfriends account is you know her official verified account. Because practically every single post is about Max. Full on fan behaviour, in the sense she was his first fan as his childhood friend, she has been there supporting him since they were kids, and now they're adults and together, but some habits doesn't change.

(bonus if the posts makes people question why she choose Max as her mans.)

summary: everybody knows that this account is full of max. from his first win to now, from his most random things to his glory time, she's always there to post his pictures. they only know her as his friend and nothing more, but who is she actually?

2016 - 2018

verstappenight

liked by maxverstappen33, and 1,942 others

verstappenight WOOOO P1🏆🏁 congratulations to you maximus, i'm soo proud of you!

view all 125 comments

maxverstappen33 I won't say anything about the name Maximus, but thank you 😄

danielricciardo Well deserved! 👍🙌

username look how young he is

username I love a supportive fan ^^ Plz post more of this man.

⤷ yourusername glad to be on your service, ma'am

username how old is he?

username He's so happy, he turns red.

username I usually don't trust redbull after Sebastian, but he might be my new exception🤷‍♀️

verstappenight

liked by danielricciardo, and 1,230 others

verstappenight that eyes glint with mischief. #throwbackthursday

view all 65 comments

maxverstappen33 Oh my god, I thought I trusted you by taking this years ago

⤷ yourusername never trust anyone

username The half smile😂

username He's been pulling the red string with Red Bull from a long time ago, and look at the hat. I bet it's not a coincidence.

username how is she even managed to get this out? this looks so ancient

⤷ username It's not ancient, it's probably old, but not ancient.

danielricciardo He looks like he's planning to steal one of the cars steering wheel

⤷ username exactly! 😂😂

username if it's a throwback, how old is this pic then?

⤷ username i mean he looks way younger than him on her recent post, so just figure it.

⤷ username he always looks younger

verstappenight

liked by victoriaverstappen, and 963 others

verstappenight how is it feel to have a duplicates?

view all 72 comments

maxverstappen33 Why are you taking the second one?

⤷ verstappenight and why are YOU posing to that one?

username Why is he looks younger and younger each time?

⤷ verstappenight i don't know, but i definitely recommend him to have a slug treatment for anti aging.

⤷ username username it's him in torro rosso, so that's why he looks more like a teenager.

username it's not even thursday yet, but i had a bad feeling for this week's throwback thursday.

verstappenight

liked by carlossainz55, and 3,573 others

verstappenight boo! happy halloween #throwbackthursday

view all 269 comments

username what did i say, my feelings are never lying

carlossainz55 Got you! 😆🤣

⤷ maxverstappen1 If I got a heart attack next week, it'll be completely your fault

landonorris is halloween on 29 or 30?

⤷ username depends on what region you're in, i guess?

⤷ landonorris don't guess, answer.

maxverstappen1 And how are you even managed to take this?? Seriously. yourusername

username I can't believe it's actually Carlos who did this

⤷ username Yeah, but I think this is so Carlos-like behavior.

username i would do that face too if someone dressed as scream beside me

username Who is running this fanpage?

username why are you liking him so much?

⤷ yourusername because he is so nice, cool, and he looks like sid from ice age which is my favorite character.

⤷ danielricciardo we got a whole stack of characters here: first we got maximus the horse from tangled, sid from ice age, and then what? jimmy neutron?

username 😂😂😂ajajaja mira su cara!

verstappenight

liked by redbullracing, and 3,782 others

verstappenight found this on twitter and now i can't stop laughing! can't wait to send this to my family group.

view all 90 comments

maxverstappen1 I really can't trust you with my digital footprint 🤦🏻‍♂️

⤷ verstappenight i found this on twitter alright, it's not taken by me!

⤷ maxverstappen1 Still.

⤷ carlossainz55 Ooh, someone's upset...

username who is this person behind this account?

username Why is his reaction is always looking so hilarious

username Max: 😦

username i feel him

username you sure it's not throwback thursday?

MID 2023

verstappenight

liked by charles_leclerc, and 97,182 others

verstappenight i changed throwback thursday with this questionable sense of max's fashion. hope that's alright.

photo credit via verstauri on twitter.

view all 348 comments

username NOOOOOOOOOOOO

username #bringbackthrowbackthursday

charles_leclerc If you get rid of throwback Thursday, how am I going to tease him?

⤷ verstappenight by searching it on pinterest🤷🏻‍♀️

username Is that real or photoshopped?

username Okay, I know throwback thursday is made a long time ago since 2015 but man I really miss it sm... 💔💔

⤷ verstappenight same, but some people don't need that old max (except for charles). we need the new one because life goes on -max via my message

⤷ maxverstappen1 I don't remember saying it

⤷ verstappenight shut up

username oh cmon i know charles want it because he's in love with max

⤷ username should i be surprised?

⤷ username i mean if there's no throwback thursday, who's going to tease him with his past when she's not there

⤷ username Daniel and Lando or Y/n could...

⤷ username oh come on, i don't even know who's the person behind this account anyway, for EIGHT YEARS

⤷ username As if you've never heard of twitter, just search her username and you'll see her REAL face.

THE TWEET SHE MEANT:

verstappenight

liked by schecoperez, and 113,809 others

verstappenight guess which one is the real one

view all 462 comments

schecoperez The first one of course!😂🤣

username since when did checos ass becoming that juicy

⤷ username since he listened to daddy yankee's song on repeat

⤷ danielricciardo His actual morning routine:

username the first one because what else would he be doing if not eating omelette and seeing checo's ass in the morning

⤷ username even checo himself agrees

username I'm glad that she still post here, even though there's no throwback thursday anymore😞😔

⤷ username but i guess even though we did not have throwback thursday anymore, we still have this crack post of him😄

TWITTER, 3 DAYS AFTER THE COMMENTS ON VERSTAPPENIGHT'S DADDY POST:

maxverstappen1 added a photo to their story! 2h

ON THE OTHER HAND, HER ACTUAL IG:

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1 and 82,147 others

yourusername good moooorniiiiinggggg from my room<3

view all 97 comments

username Thank God it's not private

username damn yall work faster than the fbi

username Anyone come here from twitter?

username Omg I've never realized max pulled this hottie ever since they were born

username THIS IS VERSTAPPENIGHT ADMIN?????

⤷ username eight years of waiting is finally getting payed off..

username why are you even choosing max to be your man when there's charles or daniel who's sexier

⤷ yourusername sometimes i don't need looks to see to be having someone like max. he's my best friend first, and i'm glad i choose him right the first place.

⤷ username Oh that's sweet...

⤷ maxverstappen1 I love you too, My biggest fan.

⤷ username I LOVE YOU TOO??????💔💔

⤷ username oh my god max is having a REAL relationship with a fan account admin

⤷ username AWOOP🚨🚔 THEIR MEDIUM LAUNCH????

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, and 278,903 others

yourusername nobody knows that this phone addict is once my best friend. happy birthday maximus! 🥳🤍

view all 486 comments

landonorris happy birthday facebook dad.

maxverstappen1 I once again not going to take the Maximus name. It makes me feel like a horse from Rapunzel.

⤷ yourusername wait, you've watch tangled before?

danielricciardo Happy birthday, Big boy.

redbullracing Happy birthday to our number one champion! 🥳🥳

username awww baby maxiee🥺🥺🥺

lewishamilton Happy birthday, mate!

carlossainz55 To be honest, your real account is sometimes still kinda feels like your other one.

⤷ yourusername force of habit probably?

⤷ carlossainz55 No, it's because you're acting like Max's biggest fan everywhere.

⤷ maxverstappen1 That's probably because she is.

⤷ yourusername wipe that smug smile off your face while you're typing

username He looks the same weirdly or not

username AHA I FOUND YOU VERSTAPPENIGHT ADMIN

username i love how she just hanging to his arm like they're been a couple since god knows how long

username SHE'S SOO LUCKYYY

username i'm gonna melt

username i feel like it's a hard launch, but she have been doing this for a long time ago

sophiekumpen 🥳🥳🥳

maxverstappen1

liked by zedd, and 627,834 others

maxverstappen1 How was I going to get her bad side if she's there and looking so beautifully?

👤: yourusername, verstappenight

view all 446 comments

landonorris poetic. remember your other girlfriend's waiting

⤷ maxverstappen1 I don't remember having another one?

⤷ charles_leclerc How are you even forget about us?

yourusername awww i can't believe you tag the fan account one too!! i love you so much!!!

⤷ maxverstappen1 I love you too❤️

username #justiceforcharles #lestappenforever

username SHE'S SOOOO CUTE no wonder max pulled her

victoriaverstappen I didn't know you pulled this cutie

⤷ danielricciardo Me too until I found out yesterday at the club

username poetic max is going to be the end of me

username I really had a bad feelings of he becoming poetic and gets all over like this

username Okay, this is max's hard launch. And now I'm waiting for Y/n's

⤷ username i thought she already doing it for so many times at verstappenight? 😏🤭

yourusername

liked by redbullracing, and 579,420 others

yourusername 💌

📸: landonorris

view all 461 comments

username PARENTS CONFIRMED???

username YESS (adopt me pls)

username is verstappenight still going to be there? let's see for the next two days...

username verstappenight nation how do we feel after this? (we can get a new max pic daily)

username i'm gonna thank lando forever for this

username With the bouquet, the dim light, and the black and white + sepia filters. What are they doin that night?

username AWWW ROMANTIC😍😍

danielricciardo They left Charles in the back that night

⤷ landonorris aww poor him. but anyway...

username how are you converting from lestappen to this one so fast?

TAGLIST @queenofmanydreams @muglermami @4limq @avengers-assemble123456 @cabbyhabs @meowtastick @4mula-1 @miarabanana @amel1ee @dinosushilun1 @auggieblogs @namgification

#✶!#max verstappen #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen smau #f1 fluff #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 instagram au

2K notes · View notes

lavnderwonu · 3 months

Text

the boy next door | jeon wonwoo

pairing: idol!boyfriend!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: secret relationship, established relationship, smut

summary: sneaking around with your secret boyfriend.

warnings: smut (!!!), little plot lol, wonwoo as your secret boyfriend, softdom! wonwoo, wonwoo is hot (yes that's a warning), mirror sex (kinda?), pet names (baby), praise kink, size kink AHEM, clitoral stimulation, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, reader has to be quiet, hint at another round.

word count: 1.9k

author’s note!: when i tell you this concept has been on my mind for weeks... i'm not lying. the wonwoo brainrot was hitting HARD when i was writing this. i was originally going to make it a secret situationship but im a #1 hater of that whole thing so relationship it is. plus i just think it'd be hot. who wouldn't want wonu as their secret boyfriend? anyway, let me know what you think, i appreciate feedback! 🩷

click here to join my taglist!

Your phone buzzes on your nightstand as you’re in your bathroom, going through your night time routine, just like any other night. As soon as you make it to your phone, it’s stopped ringing. Unlocking it, you see a notification.

Wonwoo

Missed Call

Your boyfriend. Well, only you knew he was your boyfriend, anyway. Although you’d be lying if you never posted any “soft launches” of you two, whether it was an extra iced americano on your counter, or a very obvious mystery man driving while you sat in the passenger seat.

Before you can even call him back, he’s already texting you.

Wonwoo: are you awake? Wonwoo: i saw your story earlier. you looked nice.

You went out earlier in the day to run your usual errands, which usually consisted of shopping of some sort, then wandering around a bookstore. You threw on a cute floral mini dress, and for good measure, you promptly decided to take a picture in your full-body mirror hoping a certain someone would see.

You laugh to yourself, typing out a reply.

you liked it? well you’re too late. i’m in my pajamas now.

It was only 11:30 pm, so maybe it was a tad early for pajamas for some. But for all you know he was probably in sweats playing some game on his phone or reading a book.

Wonwoo: i don’t care, you always look pretty baby Wonwoo: come over here

He lived down the hall from you, with his roommate and best friend, Mingyu. His apartment was easy access, but pretty risky if Mingyu was there, so usually Wonwoo would just come over to yours.

You're about to ask is mingyu there? until he answers the question before you even finish typing.

Wonwoo: mingyu’s gone

You bite your lip, typing a reply. Fuck, you can’t say no.

on my way

You toss your phone on your bed, quite literally, quickly getting yourself ready, you decide to put on your favorite lavender-colored bra and matching panties underneath your pajamas you already had on. Your favorite color; and a different variation of his.

Going down the hall from your apartment, you reach his door, quickly knocking a few times before he answers.

“I thought you were joking when you said you were in pajamas,” Wonwoo jokes, examining you as you walk in. “You were serious.”

“Shut up, it was getting late.” You blush, as you damn near fight the urge to jump him, cause damn. He looks too good, even in a hoodie and sweatpants.

“You look cute,” He pulls you close to him, his fingers sliding underneath your shirt to grip your waist. “Can’t wait to take them off…”

You lean into him, fingers lightly threading through his hair that’s gotten so much longer recently.

“How much time do we have?”

“Hours.” Wonwoo responds, confident. “Mingyu said he was going out with Jungkook, they’ll probably be out half the night drinking.”

His hands slowly slide up your back, sending your heart thrumming in your chest, you’re unable to deny the effect he has on you.

You both know you’d eventually have to go public with your relationship, but for now, you’d just enjoy the adrenaline rush you get everytime you’re alone together.

You make it to his bedroom, in a heated kiss, you back away to safely removing his glasses and placing them on his nightstand.

Kneeling on his bed in front of him, you quickly tug at the hoodie he has on. “Off.” You order him, and he obeys, pulling it over his head.

He tosses to the floor, before kissing you again, his hands slide up your shirt, groping your breasts lightly through your bra, making you softly moan against his lips. He breaks the kiss and his lips softly trail along the corner of your lips, to your jaw, and onward.

You begin working on unbuttoning your silky pajama shirt as Wonwoo trails wet kisses down your neck. His hands take over, effortlessly unbuttoning it. Your eyes glance over to the mirror on the wall, giving you a full view of you kneeling on his bed and him towering over you.

He slips your shirt off your shoulders, and his eyes briefly follow your gaze, realizing what you’re looking at.

“Are you watching yourself in the mirror?” Wonwoo says into your ear, giving you chills.

“Uh-huh.” Your breath shaky as you reply, nodding.

“Turn around.” He suddenly demands, kissing behind your ear before you turn around, your back now facing him.

Wonwoo wraps one arm around your torso, holding you against his sturdy chest. His hand lightly touches your chin, turning you to face the mirror again.

“Keep watching yourself, baby.”

You watch as his free hand slips underneath your pajama shorts, his fingers lightly ghosting over your clothed clit. You gasp as your hips jolt, desperately seeking out more friction.

“Wonwoo…” You gasp, gripping his arm tighter.

His hand slides underneath the elastic of your underwear, applying firm pressure as he circles your clit, before you feel his fingers slide down between your folds and he mutters a breathy fuck against your neck when he feels how wet you are already.

“You’re already dripping for me, baby.” Wonwoo says deeply, voice slightly muffled into your neck. “Couldn’t wait to see me, could you?”

He’s expecting an answer, and it’s impossibly hard now that he’s sliding two fingers inside you, expertly curling his fingers to find that special spot that you often couldn’t reach yourself.

“N-no, I couldn’t… thought about you all day.” You cry, nails digging into his forearm, and he’s seemingly unfazed by it. His fingers pound into your sweet spot, making your head fall back against his shoulder.

“Fuck, look at how pretty you look.” Wonwoo says, glancing at your reflection, your brows furrowed as you focus on the feeling of his fingers inside you.

“I’m so close…” You whine, turning to bury your face in his neck as you inhale the sweet scent of his cologne like you never want to forget it.

“I know, baby. You’re fucking squeezing my fingers.” Wonwoo grunts as your walls clench around his fingers. “Let it go, I got you.”

Your legs shake as you grip onto his forearm for dear life, desperate for something to hold onto. A cry of his name leaves your lips as you cum, your heart racing, panting trying to catch your breath.

“That’s my girl.” Wonwoo turns to kiss your forehead gently, his fingers slip from your dripping center, brushing your clit one last time and the friction is enough to make you wince.

He releases his hold on you, and you turn around to face him, kissing him needily. “Fuck me,” You whisper against his lips. “I need you.”

“So needy…” Wonwoo playfully mocks you, suddenly turning into his unintentionally adorable self, as if he didn’t just pull a powerful orgasm out of you moments ago. “Don’t I at least get to enjoy this cute little set you wore for me?” He pulls off your shirt, even though it was already damn near falling off anyway.

You blush, kissing him again.

“We don’t have time for that.” You chuckle, already feeling somewhat anxious that Mingyu is going to walk into the apartment at any second.

Wonwoo can read you like a book, and he notices right away. “Hey, there’s no rush.” He says gently, as his hands reach behind you to unhook your bra.

You slide it off the rest of the way, then toss it on the floor. “I know, I’m just enjoying this. I don’t want to be interrupted.” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you press your body against him, kissing him fervently. You moan against his lips as you feel his hard cock pressing against you.

You slide your hands down his chest, reaching to loop your fingertips into the waistband of his sweatpants. “Take these off, baby.” You whisper as you kiss his along jaw a few times, before you grope his length through them for emphasis. “Please.”

Wonwoo gently nudges you to fall back on his bed, and you sit up on your elbows, eagerly watching him as he obeys you, taking them off. “Better?” His gaze meets yours as you look him over.

You eagerly nod, lifting your hips for him as he rids you of your pajama shorts you still had on, along with your soaking wet underwear.

“How do you want it, baby?” Wonwoo huskily asks you, removing his underwear. He curses under his breath as he watches you bend your knees and spread your legs apart, allowing him full access to you.

You gasp as you feel him suddenly pull you further down on his bed, quickly followed by a whine as you feel the weight of his cock on your clit. You sit up on your elbows to see him dragging his cock through your folds, coating himself in your wetness.

Both of you can only watch, breathing heavily.

“Wonwoo…” You whine his name, gripping the sheets beneath you as the tip of his cock bumps you clit again. You both watch as he lines himself up with your entrance, finally pushing inside you.

“Look at that.” Wonwoo grunts, watching you take every inch, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate him.

“Fuck…” You throw your head back, a soft moan falling from your lips as you feel so full. “You’re too big…”

“You take me so well…look at you.” Wonwoo praises you, as his hands come up to gently stroke your inner thighs, and it’s enough to get you to relax. “You okay?”

You nod, “Yeah, you can move. Please.”

He starts to pound into you at a steady pace, making you grab onto his shoulders for something to hold onto. Your nails dig into his skin as he drives his cock into your sweet spot over and over.

You let out a sob of a moan, and Wonwoo thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.

“God, you sound so pretty,” He moans, “Crying for me…”

“I’m not gonna last long.” You whine, your walls already clenching around him.

Your heart nearly stops in your chest when suddenly you hear the front door to the apartment open, then hear Mingyu enter.

You gasp, and Wonwoo quickly shushes you.

“Relax, he’s not going to come in here, he probably thinks I left.” He whispers, all the while he hasn’t stopped fucking you.

“Can you be quiet?”

You can barely find the words to speak, your brain too focused on the feeling of his cock inside you.

“Answer me.”

You frantically nod, and that’s about all you can muster the strength to do. Your walls clench around him and he knows you’re close.

“Shit, I’m gonna come…” You softly moan, as quiet as you can, then you feel his hand cover your mouth, muffling your cries as your walls squeeze his cock hard, but he keeps fucking you through your high.

He keeps going until he’s coming too, groaning into your neck as you feel his cock nearly throbbing as he releases inside of you.

“Fuck…” Wonwoo sighs, as you both are catching your breath. “That wasn’t how that was supposed to happen.” You both smile bashfully at each other.

You gently thread your fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his forehand.

“That’s okay, we can sneak over to my place… we won’t have to be quiet.”

tags: @dearlyjun @cosmojinyoung

some others i couldn’t tag! 💔

#jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut

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