#i took way too long just to find an image to attach | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

magicfootballstuff · 9 months

Text

Dirty Little Secret - part 3 (leila ouahabi x reader)

Summary: A love story about secrets, flirty messages, football rivalries, and useless lesbians who don’t know how to communicate. And it all starts with one badly timed challenge in the Champions League.

Leila Ouahabi x Arsenal!reader

Part 3/?

Read other parts here.

———

Your life can be split into two parts - before the Arnold Clark Cup and after the Arnold Clark Cup.

Or before Leila and after Leila.

You return to Arsenal and it’s surprisingly easy to settle back into the club routine and prepare for the next league game. You’d been slightly worried that it would be difficult to adjust, an abrupt return to reality after ten days of secret meetings and illicit hookups, but life at Arsenal is exactly as it was before.

It helps that the Arnold Clark Cup almost feels like it took place in a different reality. What you had with Leila was just a holiday fling between two consenting adults. You’ve both returned to your real lives now.

But then one evening three weeks after the international break, you’re tidying your apartment and sorting through things to have a clearout, when you find Leila’s red Spain jersey amongst a pile of clothes. You trace your finger over the yellow number fifteen on the front, then flip it over to look at Leila’s name on the back. You haven’t yet washed it and when you lift it to your nose and inhale, you’re sure you can still smell Leila’s scent on it, and you know that you didn’t imagine those two weeks at all.

You haven’t talked to Leila since you parted ways at the end of the international break, but seeing her shirt brings a whirlwind of memories that leaves you yearning for something.

Before you even have time to second guess yourself, you’re swapping your sweatshirt for Leila’s football shirt, then sprawling artfully across your bed as you take a selfie from above and send it to Leila.

You Thanks for the new pyjamas

It’s just a bit of fun - just like every other moment you shared with Leila. Part of you doesn’t expect her to reply. And she doesn’t straight away, you’ve given up on sorting and have settled down on the sofa to watch a Manchester City men’s game on the television when your phone finally vibrates with a response.

Leila Looking gooood 🤤

She doesn’t say anything else and you leave it there, not sure what else to say without coming across as too eager, so you set your phone aside and give your full attention to the football.

An hour has passed before another message comes through.

Leila Sorry I was out for dinner but home now

She’s attached an image to her message, a picture of her wearing the England shirt you exchanged with her. Except that she’s wearing just the England shirt, the hem coming down to cover her hips but very little else, her long legs bare.

You Leilaaaaa

Suddenly you don’t care about the football on the TV anymore.

———

Arsenal gets knocked out of the Champions League in the quarter finals by Wolfsburg, which means you miss out on the opportunity to play against Leila again in the semi final. Your last glimmer of hope that you might get to see Leila before a possible meeting during the Euros in the summer is snuffed out.

But when Barcelona beats Wolfsburg to advance to the final, you receive a surprising message a few days later.

Leila You coming to the Champions League final?

You hadn’t really given it much thought to be honest, since your own Champions League journey came to an end and it became irrelevant. The final is after your own season ends and there’s been talk amongst some of your Arsenal teammates of going on holiday together before you all split off into your various national teams for the Euros, but nothing set in stone.

The chance to watch Leila play in such an important match, to possibly even see her lift the trophy that every footballer in Europe dreams of lifting, would be special. But you haven’t seen Leila since the Arnold Clark Cup and there’s not enough of a thing going on between you for it to seem appropriate for you to just show up without Leila’s permission.

You Do you want me to come?

Before even waiting for Leila’s response, you already start checking your diary, working out the logistics of a spontaneous weekend in Turin and whether it fits in with your pre-Euro schedule.

Leila Yeahhhh. I can get a free ticket if you want? Barca friends and family area

You smile to yourself as you type out your reply.

You Aww, am I your friend? 😉 Why do you think I’d be cheering for Barca anyway? Maybe I’m a big Lyon fan

Leila replies straight away.

Leila 🖕

———

It turns out that Leila is serious about her offer of a ticket to the Champions League final, which is why just two weeks after the end of your season with Arsenal and the heartbreak of missing out on the title by just a single point, you get on a plane to Turin by yourself.

You don’t own a Barcelona shirt and though you take the Spain shirt from Leila with you, it stays in your suitcase as you head to the stadium. Having not yet had the chance to talk to Leila in person, you’re still not sure exactly what’s going on between you and it feels like a step too far to show up to one of her games wearing her name on your back.

Instead, you’re trying to keep a low profile, donning a pair of dark sunglasses in the hope that it’ll make you less likely to get spotted by eager-eyed fans curious to discover why you’re sitting in the Barcelona family section.

It’s easy to get swept up in the atmosphere of the stadium. There are way more Barcelona fans than Lyon fans and the noise they make is immense. You’re a Manchester City fan, an Arsenal player, but tonight you’re a culer. You don’t know the chants but you don’t need to because you get caught up in the pure thrill of it all. Even when Barcelona go one, two, three goals down, the singing continues and there’s still belief that they can pull this back. Alexia gets one back just before half time that feels like a reward to the fans for their belief in the team.

But despite Barcelona’s best efforts in the second half, Lyon’s three goals prove too much to overcome and when the final whistle blows, they collapse to the pitch, exhausted and defeated.

You watch as Leila, who spent the game on the bench, wanders onto the pitch at full time, and your heart breaks for her when you see the hurt on her face and the tears shining in her eyes. You know that Barcelona were favourites and if you’re completely honest, you expected them to win. You thought that you would be celebrating with Leila tonight, but Lyon have the best record in this competition for a reason and now you need to prepare yourself to console her.

It’s quite a lot for something that’s just a casual friends with benefits situation, but then again, so is flying to Italy to watch the final in the first place.

The trophy ceremony seems to drag on forever, as if you’re down there on the pitch on the losing team yourself. You’ve been on the wrong side of a cup final enough times yourself to know that there are very few worse feelings in football than having to stay on the pitch after losing such an important game and watching another team celebrate with the trophy you wanted to lift, so you know exactly how Leila must be feeling right now.

After the ceremony, the Barcelona players wander over to this section of the crowd and greet their families over the advertising boards. You hang back as Leila exchanges hugs with what you assume to be her family. This moment is for them, not for you, and you know that you need to wait for Leila to beckon you across if she wants to see you. What would you say to them anyway? You can hardly introduce yourself to Leila’s parents as the girl who hooked up with their daughter for two weeks in February. If the roles were reversed, you don’t know if you’d want to explain the situation to your own family.

So you wait, and you keep waiting.

But Leila doesn’t beckon you over. In fact, she doesn’t even acknowledge you’re there at all.

The longer you’re standing there, the more the doubt starts to cloud your mind. At first it was explainable - there are obviously other people here to see Leila who she would prioritise talking to after the game more than you. But when she moves away from her own family to talk to the family of her teammates, then eventually moves back onto the pitch and hovers around a group of dejected Barcelona players, you start to wonder if Leila has forgotten that she invited you entirely.

Maybe you should’ve been more assertive. Maybe you should’ve stood closer to the barrier so that Leila couldn’t miss you.

You sit down again on the plastic stadium seat and pull out your phone, deciding to message Leila instead

You Sorry about the result but I’m so proud of you anyway! Let me know when you’re free? I can’t wait to see you!

When you look up, you can no longer see Leila. You scan the few blaugrana shirts still on the pitch just in case, but most of the team seems to have returned inside to the dressing room and you can only assume that Leila is one of them. The crowd has thinned out too, even the friends and family sections that were full long after the rest of the fans started to leave the stadium is starting to empty, and you know it’s probably time for you to leave too.

As you make your way out of the stands, you find a quiet corner on the almost deserted stadium concourse and decide to call Leila. You’re not sure if she’s checked her phone yet since the final whistle, so it’s not exactly a surprise when it rings straight through to her voicemail, but you decide to leave a message anyway.

“Leila, it’s me,” you say. “Listen, I…” You let out a sigh, then say, “I know you must be hurting right now. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling and I … and I just wish I could do something or say something to make it better but I can’t. But I’m proud of you. Just getting to the final is an achievement. Shit, I know that’s not what you need to hear right now but…”

You lean your head against the nearest wall and close your eyes in frustration, fully aware that you’re rambling almost nonsensically at this point.

“I’m here if you need me,” you continue. “Or if you don’t, that’s fine too. I’m leaving the stadium to get some food, then I’ll probably go back to my hotel, but just let me know you’re okay?”

You hesitate for just a few seconds, unsure how to sign off, before you panic and just end the message there.

“Fuck!” you growl.

You turn around to lean your back against the wall, only to realise that the concourse isn’t as empty as you thought, but that two fans in Barcelona shirts have just witnessed your outburst.

“Sorry,” you apologise to them, but they don’t seem bothered by your swearing. In fact, they actually approach you, a little giddy, and you suddenly remember that you’re not as anonymous as you’d often like to be.

“Can we get a selfie?” one of the girls asks, taking out her phone. “My friend is a huge Arsenal fan. You’re one of her favourite players.”

You force a smile onto your face. Normally you don’t mind fan interactions, in fact it usually warms your heart to know that there are people out there who you don’t even know who support you and look up to you, but there’s a time and place for that and you’re really not in the mood right now. Despite that, Leila is to blame for your sour mood, not them, and you’re not going to take out your frustrations on a couple of innocent fans.

“Of course,” you tell them, positioning yourself so that one girl stands on either side of you and smiling at the outstretched phone of the girl on the left.

“Thank you,” they say, once the selfies have been taken.

“No problem,” you reply, and you only let the smile slide off your face when they’re out of sight.

You really need to get out of here. And fast.

———

You thought that by distancing yourself from the stadium and the match, it might ease your mind a little. But by the time you get back to your hotel with a paper bag of takeout food, you feel more uneasy than ever.

Leila is still silent. No texts, no calls, nothing on social media.

You replay your voicemail message over and over again in your mind, each word sitting like a brick on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. Was it too much? Surely Leila would have messaged you when she was ready. What if your message comes across as needy, as smothering? What if you’re only pushing her away further?

Fuck. Leila probably doesn’t even want you here at all. You’re only a hookup to her, a bit of fun to pass your downtime during the Arnold Clark Cup. You were wrong to read anything more into the invitation to watch the final. She can only have wanted you here on standby, a plaything to use as a celebration if Barcelona won the trophy. But they didn’t and she doesn’t need you, she doesn’t want you.

The more you spiral, the more you want to speak to her. Just a single message, a word of reassurance or even just an acknowledgement that she’s not in the right headspace to see you tonight, would be enough to settle your anxiety.

As it is, you’re alone in a hotel room in an unfamiliar city with nothing but a bag of food and your own intrusive thoughts.

You want to call someone, to talk to a friend before you completely fall apart. Leah, perhaps. You’ve known her forever and out of all your friends, she’s probably the least likely to judge you if you call her up out of nowhere in floods of tears and tell her you’re having a breakdown in a hotel room in Turin over some girl you hardly know. In fact, Leah is such a good friend that if she knew you were distressed, she’d probably hop on the first flight to Italy to comfort you in person.

But Leah is on holiday in America and she deserves the time off before the Euros without having to worry about her idiotic best friend having girl problems on the other side of the world.

You’re just going to have to deal with this alone.

Hot tears spill down your face and you cocoon yourself beneath the bedcovers, wishing that the bed would swallow you whole.

You don’t know how you could’ve been so stupid to think that this meant something, how you could’ve been so stupid to catch feelings for Leila when there are clearly far too many obstacles between you for it to ever work out. In your defence, it’s only now that you’re starting to realise that you are catching feelings for her, but still… you could’ve done more to stop it from happening in the first place.

The doubt and the self-loathing clouds your mind and you cry it out until you can’t cry anymore, until you finally succumb to exhaustion, passing out into a dreamless sleep with tear-stained cheeks.

———

You wake up alone, having had a bad night’s sleep, to several messages from Leila, which can be summed up by the most recent one.

Leila Can I see you today?

The rest of her messages, all sent within the last couple of hours this morning, are a mixture of pleas and apologies.

You’re still pissed at her for not responding to any of your messages last night. But you flew all the way to Turin at Leila’s request, used the ticket that she gave you for free to watch the match, and you don’t fly back until later today. And, despite your anger, you do still want to see her.

You’re not going to make an effort though, which is why you message her back with the address of your hotel. If Leila wants to see you, then she can be the one to make the effort to come and see you herself.

When she arrives at your hotel, you decide to meet her downstairs in the hotel restaurant, instead of inviting her up to your room. There’s less temptation to let her seduce her way back onto your good side if you meet in public.

Leila looks like shit - that’s your first impression. She looks like she’s had even less sleep than you have, her eyes puffy, her expression weary, her usual smile absent.

If she hadn’t pissed you off yesterday, you’d probably hug her.

Instead, you just let her sit down across from you and ask her, “Do you want to eat?”

She shakes her head.

“I’m not hungry today.”

“Coffee, then?” you suggest, because she definitely looks like she needs it.

Leila nods.

You’ve already ordered yourself a coffee (you’re normally a tea person but you don’t want to risk the Italian tea not being to your taste) and a sandwich, but you call over the waiter once more for Leila.

“So what happened?” you eventually ask, once Leila has ordered her coffee.

“I’m sorry,” Leila apologises with a shrug, and from the way that her eyebrows are furrowed together, it seems like she’s having a difficult time trying to hold herself together.

“Sorry for what?” you ask, waiting for her to admit that she messed up, but when she doesn’t, you continue talking. “I flew here by myself, I sat in the family section surrounded by people I don’t know, all speaking a language I don’t understand. The only person I knew in this city yesterday was you. You invited me here. I thought you wanted me here.”

“I want you here,” Leila pleads with you. “But a lot happened yesterday and it was too much.”

“I get that. You think I’ve never lost a cup final? I came here to support you, win or lose. And then you hurt me. You made me feel like an idiot.”

The effort that Leila has been putting into not falling apart crumbles and the sobs heave through her body, shoulders trembling and tears spilling down her cheeks. Annoyed with her or otherwise, it’s not nice to see, and you feel a pang of regret that your harsh words have upset her.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you say, reaching for one of the unused napkins on the table and passing it across to Leila, letting your fingers brush against her hand as you do. “I’m pissed off, but I don’t want to see you cry. I don’t care that you didn’t win the Champions League. I would’ve loved to watch you lift that trophy but I’m proud of you anyway for making it to the final.”

Leila uses the napkin to wipe her tears, and the silence, as well as the sad look in her eyes, compels you to keep talking.

“And it’s not like I was expecting anything from you yesterday either,” you tell her. “If you didn’t want to see me or you were too busy, that’s fine. But just one message to let me know what was going on and I wouldn’t have been left waiting around feeling stupid.”

“I know, I know,” Leila says, her voice cracking ever so slightly. “So much stuff is happening right now. It’s all too much. But you’re right, I should have messaged.”

You don’t know what to say. It almost feels like you’re back to square one, like you don’t even know Leila at all. But then you realise - do you even know Leila? It’s not like you’ve actually spent any time getting to know each other. There’s an obvious attraction between you, and physical chemistry too, but do you actually have anything in common beside your profession?

“Can I make it up to you?” Leila blurts out.

“How?” you ask.

You’re expecting a smirk to slide across Leila’s lips and for her to suggest you go somewhere private for her to apologise to you in a more physical way, but instead, she looks you straight in the eye and says, “Come to Barcelona?”

“When?”

“This week. We have another final - la Copa de la Reina. You could come to the game.”

You let out a sigh. You can’t put yourself through what you’ve been through this weekend again, as tempting as it is to just forgive Leila and succumb to her request. Yet despite the fact that you cried yourself to sleep last night because of Leila, you can’t deny the fact you’ve still got a soft spot for her and it’s incredibly difficult to say no to her.

“I’ve got an England camp coming up soon,” you try to reason with her. “We’re starting our Euro prep.”

“Just for a few days,” Leila pleads with you. “I really want you to come. Please.”

“I can’t just drop everything at short notice,” you tell Leila, though your plans for the next couple of weeks don’t involve much more than relaxing as much as possible before getting straight back to work with the Lionesses.

“Okay,” Leila says, and though that’s all she says, you can tell she’s disappointed.

Would it really be so bad if you said yes? Would it hurt to give her another chance? You don’t want what happened yesterday to ruin what’s been going between you forever, which means forgiving her at some point. Maybe a little holiday in Barcelona, especially before you enter the biggest summer of your life so far, is exactly what you need.

It’ll be like the Arnold Clark Cup all over again, an escape from reality until you have to return to life as a footballer and Leila’s on-pitch rival.

“Fine, I’ll look at flights to Barcelona,” you concede. “I can give you two days, maybe three, before I need to be back in England.”

“Thank you,” Leila says, smiling at you gratefully.

She reaches into the little bag that she brought with her and pulls out a piece of blue and pink fabric, and as she unfurls it you realise it’s a Barcelona shirt.

“My jersey from yesterday,” she explains as she passes it across the table. “To thank you for coming to see me. If you can come to Barcelona next week, you could wear it to the final?”

Wearing Leila’s name to one of her matches sounds serious. It sounds like a commitment. As is flying to Turin, or even to Barcelona to watch one of her games, but that hasn’t quite gone to plan.

Things were so easy when you were flirting from different countries, or sneaking around St George’s Park for a bit of fun. The rational part of your brain tries to warn you that it’s probably not a good thing that at the first sign of this perhaps actually being a little more serious, it’s resulted in this misunderstanding and both of you getting upset.

But the pleading look in Leila’s bloodshot eyes is impossible to say no to.

“Thanks,” you say, refolding the jersey and setting it aside.

“When do you go home?” Leila asks.

“This afternoon,” you answer. “My flight’s just after four. You?”

“In a couple of hours,” Leila tells you. “I can’t stay much longer. Only Patri knows I’m not at the team hotel.”

You can’t help but smile, reminded a little of the way you both snuck around St George’s Park back in February, only now your secrecy has led you to fly to a whole different country while Leila has snuck across town to see you.

This thing between you, this connection that has been growing since that tackle back in Barcelona, is far from easy. But aren’t the best things in life worth the fight?

“Come here,” you say, pushing back your chair and getting to your feet.

You hold your arms out wide until Leila understands and gets up too, stepping around the table and into your embrace. Her arms wind around your back as you pull her close, burying your face into her shoulder

“Thank you for giving me another chance,” Leila mumbles into your hair.

You don’t say anything in response, instead simply squeezing her closer and savouring the feeling of her body against yours. If you can make the logistics of a trip to Barcelona next week work, it won’t be long until you can hold her again like this, but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to make the most of every second you can get with her before you have to go in separate directions again.

If this tumultuous weekend in Turin has taught you anything, it’s that you can’t take anything for granted.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leila ouahabi x reader #leila ouahabi imagine #dirty little secret

403 notes · View notes

wolfjackle-creates · 1 year

Text

In celebration of my new writing sideblog, I decided to share a snippet of the expanded version of my first prompt fill. Original can be found here. Brief synopsis: Tim and Danny became online friends when they were both neglected and lonely ten/eleven-year-olds. Before Robin and before Phantom. They have been fully open with each other since they first met and that doesn't change, even after it probably should. (This segment is a chat fic.)

Prompt from @gremlin-bot

IKnowYourSecrets = Tim's username

-xXPolarisXx- = Danny's username

Typos in chat are intentional.

Edit: I don't know why the color text is being weird. Each time I get everything to work, new random letters are black.

Edit 2: formatting finally fixed. That took way too long.

-----

Danny had been playing mindlessly when he got a message from Secrets.

IKnowYourSecrets: Thank god your on

That was odd. Secrets was always laid back and chill.

-xXPolarisXx-: Secrets? Whats up

IKnowYourSecrets: something big has happened IKnowYourSecrets: like top secret big IKnowYourSecrets: and I need advice IKnowYourSecrets: ive set up a private chat IKnowYourSecrets: one that cant be hacked so easily

-xXPolarisXx-: dude youre freaking me out -xXPolarisXx-: whats going on?

IKnowYourSecrets: :sends link: IKnowYourSecrets: not here. Ill explain

Danny clicked the link and put in his username when prompted. He had never even seen this chat room server before. Not that he spent a lot of time on chat rooms. He preferred in-game chats.

-xXPolarisXx-: ok dude spill -xXPolarisXx-: wth is going on

IKnowYourSecrets: I know who Batman is

“What!” Danny couldn’t hold back the shout. He started typing a reply, deleted, started typing again.

“Danny?” asked Jazz from the kitchen table where she was doing her homework. “Everything ok?”

He waved his hand at her. “Yeah! Everything is fine! My friend and I were just killed by something I didn’t even know could be dangerous.”

“Don’t play too long. You still have homework.”

“I know! I’ll be good.”

-xXPolarisXx-: good one secrets -xXPolarisXx-: you got me for a minute

IKnowYourSecrets: :image attachment: IKnowYourSecrets: :image attachment: IKnowYourSecrets: :news link: IKnowYourSecrets: :news link: IKnowYourSecrets: :image attachment:

The links and pictures started coming through even faster. The first was a picture of a family of acrobats and one of the links was to the story about how the parents died in an accident while performing.

The next link was about Bruce Wayne adopting a child followed by one only a few months later discussing Batman’s new side kick, Robin. Then a picture of the Graysons’ son in his circus costume next to a picture of the first Robin. Which were entirely too similar.

“Holy…” whispered Danny. But the links and images were still coming.

Robin stopped being spotted when Dick Grayson moved out. And not much later Nightwing appeared. And then there was a new Robin and a new adoption. And then Jason Todd-Wayne died and Robin disappeared.

-xXPolarisXx-: what. The fuck -xXPolarisXx-: why are you even looking into this -xXPolarisXx-: Secrets! ????

IKnowYourSecrets: your a real friend, right? IKnowYourSecrets: I mean weve known each other for like 2 years now IKnowYourSecrets: no catfisher’d stick around this long

-xXPolarisXx-: course I’m real -xXPolarisXx-: though thats also what a catfisherd say

IKnowYourSecrets: I live in gotham IKnowYourSecrets: Batmans changed since Robin IKnowYourSecrets: Since Jason died IKnowYourSecrets: he needs a robin I think IKnowYourSecrets: hes mean and harsh and people dont feel safe

-xXPolarisXx-: … -xXPolarisXx-: youre planning something

IKnowYourSecrets: help me figure out how to convince dick to go back to being robin IKnowYourSecrets: I think they had a fight IKnowYourSecrets: from what i can find online their last several meetings have ended in fights

Danny stared at his screen, mouth open. Secrets couldn’t be serious. This was too much. But he knew his friend. He might joke during a gaming battle, but he’d never joke about this. Not to Danny, or well, Polaris.

-xXPolarisXx-: Youre gonna chase down Nightwing?? -xXPolarisXx-: isnt he only out at night??? -xXPolarisXx-: dude youre gonna get yourself killed -xXPolarisXx-: how’ll you even find him? -xXPolarisXx-: do NOT tell him you know his secret identity -xXPolarisXx-: what do vigilantes do to ppl who learn their identities?

Danny watched as the dots appeared to indicate Secrets was typing. They stopped. Picked up again.

IKnowYourSecrets: awww IKnowYourSecrets: you like me ❤ IKnowYourSecrets: im not gonna die! IKnowYourSecrets: NIGHTWING will be there IKnowYourSecrets: and I can find him bc I know his patrol routes IKnowYourSecrets: easy peasy IKnowYourSecrets: im going tonight IKnowYourSecrets: just need to figure out what to say

-xXPolarisXx-: dude really??? -xXPolarisXx-: do you even know why they fought?

IKnowYourSecrets: Gotham needs batman IKnowYourSecrets: and batman needs robin IKnowYourSecrets: hes a hero he should want to help

-xXPolarisXx-: Well start with that, then -xXPolarisXx-: if youre going to be an idiot -xXPolarisXx-: and go out in gotham at night -xXPolarisXx-: tell nightwing youre worried about batman

IKnowYourSecrets: worried about nightwing as well IKnowYourSecrets: hes not as bad IKnowYourSecrets: but its clear something is wrong

-xXPolarisXx-: im just a kid from a small town -xXPolarisXx-: how am I supposed to know how to talk to superheroes?

IKnowYourSecrets: they aren’t superheroes IKnowYourSecrets: no powers

-xXPolarisXx-: not the point -xXPolarisXx-: I guess -xXPolarisXx-: start by asking how hes doing -xXPolarisXx-: and how batmans doing -xXPolarisXx-: and say youre sorry about robins death -xXPolarisXx-: but most importan STAY SAFE -xXPolarisXx-: i dont even know your name to follow any news stories

IKnowYourSecrets: its Tim if you wanna know

-xXPolarisXx-: mines Danny -xXPolarisXx-: idk why but Tim fits you

IKnowYourSecrets: dont use it on public forums IKnowYourSecrets: but were safe here IKnowYourSecrets: Danny. I like it IKnowYourSecrets: thanks for the advice!!! IKnowYourSecrets: im gonna use it IKnowYourSecrets: ttyl IKnowYourSecrets: gonna track down dick and talk to him IKnowYourSecrets: he usually starts patroling in like an hour and a half IKnowYourSecrets: and it’ll take me about that long to get to bludhaven

-xXPolarisXx-: lemme know what happens -xXPolarisXx-: im gonna check this chat and the game any chance I have at the computer

IKnowYourSecrets: will do IKnowYourSecrets: by danny

-xXPolarisXx-: stay safe tim

Danny stared at the chat box as Secrets, as Tim signed out. What. The. Hell.

“You all right there, Danny?” Jazz was looking at him from their kitchen table and Danny quickly closed out of the chatroom. No one could be allowed to see that information.

“Yeah, course. Just talking with my online friend Secrets.” Whose name he now knew. “He had to go, though. So I guess I’ll start my homework.”

“Were you two playing that game you like?”

He couldn’t tell the truth, so he decided to lie. “Yeah. We’re hoping to beat this boss so we can get a rune stone that’ll let us craft this super awesome weapon! Then we might stand a chance in the arena.”

Jazz smiled at him. “I’m sure you two’ll get it. What’s this arena?”

Danny described the game on autopilot as pulled out his backpack and books. Holy hell, he knew Batman’s identity.

-----

Part 2

I also hope to start doing WIP Wednesdays if there's any interest. Probably not every week and they won't all be for this fic, but I've got a few things I've been working on that I hope people will enjoy.

Tag List (I hope you're still all interested so many months later. XP)

@bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @nutcase8691, @dreamingasters, @xysidhequeen

I'm sure there's people I'm missing. So let me know if you want to be added or if you want to be taken off the list. I won't be offended either way.

#dp x dc #my writing #danny fenton #tim drake #chat fic #bring me home fic #i'll probably change that name #the formatting on this is a bitch #i dont use rich text #so i type all the html directly into my main document #you should see how the usernames look #i cannot get an accurate word count either

841 notes · View notes

taeminsung · 2 years

Text

all i want..

pairing: minho x reader

summary: sometimes all minho does is think about you.

a/n: a fluffy minho because I needed it in my life. please enjoy ♡

The dull roar of the engines plagued Minho’s head as he struggled to get comfortable in the seat trying his best to not disturb a sleeping Seungmin. The post tour fatigue managed to settle into every nook and cranny it could find within his body. His eye lids left like sandpaper rubbing his eyes each time he blinked, struggling to keep himself awake long enough to hopefully not be jet lagged when they landed. A hand gently bumped his head and a phone with low light was shoved in his face displaying the artwork for one of his current favorite songs. Letting his eyes travel from the screen up the arm of the owner of the phone, he could not help but let the small smile break out under his mask at the little dance Changbin was doing next to him. Silently, he cursed at himself for playing the song in the hotel with Changbin because he had to immediately explain why he knew all the lyrics to an almost fully English song.

Finally adjusting enough to be somewhat comfortable, Minho grabbed his headphones and navigated to the playlist filled with the songs he knew every word to. Seungmin’s head settled on his shoulder and Minho took the opportunity to let his head rest of top of his younger member’s head. Slowly he scrolled through the wide range of songs trying to cultivate a queue. The only problem was trying to pick an order to the songs because there was a fondness to every single one.

Pressing play, he let the music wash out the loud noises of the world around him as his mind drifted to you. The moment he allowed for his heavy eye lids to close, images of you started playing in his mind like an old movie. He watched the memories unfold, lips constantly trying to pull his tired muscles into another smile. As one song faded out so did the attached memory only to be replaced with the next moment as a new song started up. Minho knew that you had curated the playlist to have this exact effect, but he still could not believe how perfectly it worked. They captured a memory, a date, or was a song you or he loved. His heart fluttered whenever he saw that a new song was added because it meant that you were thinking about him in that moment and wanted to share some message with him.

To him, it screamed, all I think about is you. Something he loved dearly.

During the tour, he spent way too much time thinking about you. His photo album was currently filled with so many things that he couldn’t wait to show you, from funny pictures of the members, to cool things in all the cities they had visited the months he was away from home, from you. At some point, he mindlessly pulled up the photo album he started of either just pictures he’d taken of you or photos that the boys snuck whenever you were around them. Swiping through each photo slowly, he couldn’t help the shaky breath that filled his lungs and found it impossible to not let his shoulders shift as he exhausted. Finally, he discovered a photo that was taken without either of you knowing. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes at the way the simple photo displayed the way he never got to see you.

Wordlessly, Minho studied the way you looked at him while he was looking at something to the right of the camera. What felt like someone squeezing his heart released the tears into Seungmin’s hair as Minho completely understood why all the members always said that they could see the love you had for him written in your eyes. He really did not understand why you had fallen for him, especially when there was days and months that went by where he couldn’t prioritize you first. He hated to admit that he was jealous of the night and that it got to spend each one with you while he couldn’t. It was a jealously that he knew could only be ended when he returned to you.

Desperately he wanted to curl into you, smelling the lingering perfume that soaked into your skin.

Gently a hand closed around his free hand, letting him know that while Seungmin was barely awake, he would be there for him no matter what. His younger member had heard the words he let slip into the world after a long day, words he immediately regretted because he watched the way your perfect smile dropped off your face. So quickly he tried to take them back only to be met with you finding a bad excuse to get off the phone and not call him back the rest of the night. Darkness had descended into him heart and he couldn’t shake the feeling that there might be no winning you back after the elongated time of being apart. So, he settled for staring at that picture of you until the wheels of the plane touched down.

Rain clouds filled the sky and water droplets drifted across the windows as they made their way back to the dorms. Minho’s thoughts again found their way back to you, wondering what you were doing. Slowly, the bubbling jealousy of how the rain might be falling upon your skin because it was closer than his hands had been in months. His fingers worked out message after message to only be deleted, never finding the right words, or gathering enough courage to send anything more than he did letting you know that he had landed. Black engulfed his vision as his eyes closed.

What if you were already gone?

Trudging his way to his room, mumbling responses to the already forgotten questions of those around him, he couldn’t stop the way he felt like his heart was sinking into his stomach. The needle pricking thought of what if you were better off with someone new danced in the darkness of his mind as he shook his head forcefully trying to erase the thought before it could be planted into something else. More sleep and perhaps a shot of something would help muster up the courage he needed to head over to your place and beg you for forgiveness. Maybe he would swing by your favorite coffee shop and florist to grab something special.

Throwing open the door to his room and immediately closing it, he was met with you standing next to his bed, frozen like a deer in headlights. Minho noted the way his room felt oddly different, like something was just slightly out of place in his clean room. He watched the soft smile that pulled at the corner of your lips while you dropped leebit onto his bed, pulling the sleeves of his missing sweatshirt down to cover your hands as they reached out to indicate him to come closer.

Instantly, he wrapped you into his arms letting his face get buried in the soft spot on your neck, letting your presence wash over him. You were the sunlight driving out the darkness that had tried to creep in. A safe place to return to after rough waters. The never-ending calm occurred when he could see you. Warmth radiated from you in every way possible. Adjusting the way he held you, planting a kiss to your forehead and the top of your head, he settled his chin on the top of your head, giving his curiosity what it wanted as he reviewed his room. It took a few seconds longer than he would ever admit to you, but there it was, a new photo frame sitting near his bed filled with that ever so perfect photo he couldn’t stop staring at on the plane.

A moment of clarity struck him. It was you, only ever you.

♡ ── thank you for reading this one! requests are open.

1K notes · View notes

aka-indulgence · 6 months

Text

Illithid Kiss

So I caved. Immediately. Mind flayers are hot, bite me

Thanks to @llamagoddessofficial for showing me 1 (one) image of bg3 mind flayer and immediately going AWOOGA

Yes I made an ao3 link, I ‘ve been taken over help

(Mind flayer x Female!Reader

Mind flayer goes by he/him)

Vaussur took you in as his thrall for what feels like a long time ago. Despite being a mind flayer, for his kind, he had surprise you at every turn, acting unlike how you expected an illithid to act- like how the rest of the mind flayers in his hive acts. Lenient and forgiving with you, letting you roam with your mind free (for the most part), you find yourself unexpectedly getting attached to him.

What do you do, when all of a sudden your mind flayer ‘master’ asks you to tell him about human love? When he asks you to show him more directly? And most importantly…

Would you kiss a mind flayer?

Content warning: Mind control involved (consensual), suggestive themes, master/servant romantic relationship

—————

“Tell me, pet. What does it mean to love like a human?”

You’re snapped out of your musings at the voice, echoing both through the room and chambers in your mind. You look away from the window, from the alien society outside. Vaussur was looming behind you, a curious glow in his eyes that looked soft, somehow.

In the shadows of the room he looked ominous, almost spine-chilling. Illithid armour glinting in the faint light, while the rest of his body was merely a silhouette save for his glowing, golden irises. It reminded you of stories people back home used to tell you when you were young: to close and lock the doors at night and close the windows lest a monster sneak into the room. You didn’t know what a mind flayer was, back then, but seeing him now, he fits the stories perfectly.

Yet, he keeps surprising you with his curious mannerisms- his strange questions. You turn to face your ‘master’.

“Why do you ask?”

“As you might guess, it’s not something I can speak of amongst other illithids,” he says matter-of-factly, with a bit of humor in his eyes. “But its still something I’m personally interested in, nonetheless.”

You giggle. “What do you mean? Do you study humans?”

Mind flayers don’t have mouths. But from the way his tentacles moved, it almost looks like Vaussur was smiling at the sound of your giggle. But he answers seriously.

“I have been, as of late.” He gives you a meaningful glance. “Of course, illithids are the superior race and our ways of living are equally superior. … But I find myself becoming curious. We don’t have such customs in our society, and what I’m about to say is unbecoming for a mind flayer, but…”

You look at him curiously as he struggles to speak his words.

“I… envy you.” He whispers. “You have no idea how exquisite your mind tastes, my dear thrall. … How tender, the sweetness in every drop of thought in that delectable mind of yours, the warmth and comfort your memories radiate… You come from a world where a small, innocent, kind thing like yourself could flourish and bloom- thrive, even. How can such a world exist?”

The way he describes your mind in frightening and alien detail, reminds you of what he is- an illithid, a being that literally has a taste for brains. But even so, the way he described yours, though a little unsettling, almost sounds like a poem, words woven carefully just for you. Try as you might, it sounds like a compliment to you.

“W-well,” you stutter, staggered by his flowery words- coming from a being that has never seen much of life in the sun. “I think humans are more social than mind flayers. You communicate out of necessity, working together like a hivemind for the elder brain… right?”

“Right. You remembered what I told you? Smart pet, you prove me again and again why you’re my favorite thrall.”

“Um!” Being called a thrall wasn’t flattering, but still you feel your mind spin from the praise. “Thank- thank you. As I was saying, humans communicate and cooperate too, but we don’t do it just out of necessity. We find joy in the comfort of other humans- and other beings too, if they’ve formed a bond. We do it because we like it. We make bonds with people in our families and our communities, for companionship and… sometimes more. We can work alone, but most suffer from being solitary.”

You don’t know what kind of love Vaussur was asking you for, but you thought keeping it general was a good start at least. And the safest option, considering the other possibility.

“Interesting… not unlike illithids.” He comments.

“Really? How so?”

“As a non mind-flayer, you would not know this, but… it’s very unhealthy for a mind flayer to be completely alone.” You raise your eyebrows in surprise while Vaussur continues. “No elder brain, no other illithids, no thralls. Mind flayers are surrounded and connected by thoughts. To strip the familiar away from them… I’ve heard stories where they’ve gone mad.”

“Wait- mind flayers can go mad?”

“Of course. We are superior but not perfect- even I can admit that. Mind flayers can’t thrive in isolation, we must rely on another living being. It’s a disgrace for a mind flayer to accept it, let alone admit it- especially to admit they rely on thralls so heavily beyond labor.”

“I didn’t know that.” You remarked, seeing the illithids in a new light. Most of what you’ve heard from when mind flayers were merely myths and legends, and from what you’ve seen directly from their society indicates that they’re a self-sufficient, self-aggrandizing people. To know they could be attached to anything other than themselves, or at least to their elder brain… and Vaussur had so easily conceded this information to you.

“Wait, if it was a disgrace, why are you admitting this to me right now?”

“Because I’m no different. And it is no disgrace to say that I need you to stay with me.”

Your mouth hangs open at his honest confession, like it was factual. You try to ignore the little flips your stomach is doing, and whether or not it was a good feeling.

“I’ve also heard that there are different types of love. Platonic and romantic, I think they’re called.”

“Yes, yes there is, it’s-” you stop yourself, even as you quieten the excitement in your chest at the mention of the other type of love (to your puzzlement). “How do you know about that?”

“During my time on a reconnaissance mission. I was looking for possibles hosts to implant with tadpole.”

You fail to hide the distaste on your face at the mention of ceremorphosis. If Vaussur saw it, he doesn’t react.

“I heard them talking about it. I think they were discussing whether what they felt for each other was one form or the other. Their discussion about the romantic one became particularly charged.”

He refocuses on you, and eagerly asks, “What is… romantic love?”

He was trying to sound calm and analytical but you could hear it: excitement. But why would a mind flayer be so interested in romance, of all things?

“It’s… like I said earlier,” you swallowed. You don’t know why you felt so bashful about it, like you were in a group of children talking about your parents kissing like it was a scandal. “It’s when people have more… intimate relationships with another. It’s not very different from platonic love, but different nonetheless. It’s…”

How do you explain romantic love to someone who doesn’t know what it is? How is it different from platonic love? Just having to explain what love is to him proved itself quite confusing to you, as the more you tried to grasp the definition of love to you, the more it slipped away.

“It’s like…” you grasp again, “romantic love is when you meet another person, and you feel a, a… a spark. It’s more intense than platonic love, where you just feel this… attraction to the other person, where you want to be as close to them as possible, and just their presence can make you really happy. You do things with them things you wouldn’t do with any other people you have in your life, intimate things. Someone you want to share your life with.”

You feel a little helpless as you clasp your hands together, trying to convey what you think love looks like to someone who’s never experienced it. Even with your loose explanation, Vaussur is rapt with fascination, his luminous glare unblinking.

“I’m sorry if this is confusing to you…”

He shakes his head. “That’s more knowledge than any mind flayer knows. And… if it proves hard for you, pet, maybe you should show it to me.”

“I… show it?”

You were about to ask how, but as soon as you thought that, a word echoes in your mind.

With a kiss.

Your eyes widen, and unfortunately, it looks like your mind was loud enough for Vaussur to notice.

Without skipping a beat, he asks you, “Can you… show that to me? Kissing?”

Added with his forwardness, you fluster, but you try to calm yourself. Vaussur is a mind flayer. He’s never experienced any kind of love, let alone romantic. He really is just curious, he’s not trying to charm you… right?

You try to explain it to him.

“I c-could, but… kissing you would be more… romantic. One of the intimate things people do together to be romantic.” You said that twice. Your mind is tripping over itself. “You have to- no, you should do it with someone you care about deeply, the one you want to keep in your life. At least, that’s how you make it more meaningful.”

Vaussur doesn’t speak, not immediately. A strange look washes over his face, his brows furrowing. Subconsciously, he brings his hand to a tentacle, stroking it thoughtfully.

“I don’t see the problem. That describes how I feel about you perfectly.”

Everything goes quiet for you.

… “What?”

Vaussur doesn’t skip a beat.

“That’s how I’ve felt about you since I took you as my thrall. That is not a strange concept. I’m intimately familiar with that feeling.” He pauses. “Unless this is hesitation because I’m a mind flayer.”

“I- no that’s not it,” you say, the ice freezing your tongue melting. “It’s, I just- do you… love… me?”

“Perhaps. If that really what love is, then yes. But illithids don’t have ‘romance’ or ‘love’. So I need you to show me what it is.”

You shake your head, you can’t believe the situation you’re in, looking at the floor. The mind flayer that’s called you his thrall might very well love you- even be in love for you. People have described mind flayers as soulless, one of the defining characteristics they were often associated with, something you’d accepted as fact, until you were captured by one. Despite his illithid tendencies, the air of superiority, lack of care for non illithid lives, and strange fascination with brains; for what he is, Vaussur’s acted with more humanity than what you imagined a mind flayer was capable of.

You’ve noticed that most of your favorite qualities in him come out when you have his attention.

Though he’s always been imposing and quite frightening, you can’t believe that you’ve… thought what it’d be like to kiss him. At times when he seems to go against his natural instincts, like keeping you away from the feedings, how he praises you when he defends you from other mind flayers, how you were precious to him, and the way he held you protectively whenever you needed to cross their domain.

You’re amazed at yourself when you answer him with “... Alright.”

When you pick your head up from your musings, you startle from how close he was to you. You could see the patterns in his illithid armor, the intricate swirls and spirals, turning to complicated geometries as they reach the edge of the armor, extending from what looks like a mind flayer skull in the middle of the collar area. Long, dark purple robes extend from underneath, covering most of Vaussur’s skin. You withhold the urge to trace your fingers over the shapes.

You look up, way up. You were no stranger to this- even among mind flayers, Vaussur was particularly tall. He loomed over you, your head only reaching somewhere in the middle of his chest, and you’d have to crane your neck whenever he commanded you. But now, with the prospect of… kissing him, he seems all the more imposing. The closes thing you could to kissing him properly would probably be on one of tentacle.

“Um…”

Vaussur makes a strange sound, a sound that tickles your brain. A laugh…?

Before you could worry about what you were about to do, you feel a magic presence all around you, like someone was holding you. Your feet lift off the floor as you’re picked up by his psionic energy, bringing you face to face with him. There’s expectance in his burning gaze, something that makes you feel small and defenseless. You feel his thoughts seeping into your mind, mixing with yours: the want to be closer, of warm affection… and something possessive. You’re not sure if he’s trying to make you feel the same things for him, or if he’s simply communicating with you the way a mind flayer would with each other. It scares you a little, especially feeling his more foreign emotions- but whatever it is, you know he’s being genuine. You don’t sense a hint of malice in all the rush of feelings he’s emanating.

Despite your timidity, you can’t say those feelings were wholly unpleasant. You find you’re actually leaning into it, closing your eyes to try to feel it coursing through you. When you open them, you find the courage to brace your hands on his plated shoulders. Brilliant citrine eyes glance down at them, and you realize how small they must look to him.

Your brows furrow a little as you look for a good place to… kiss an illithid. Your fingers curl, and you try to position your head a bit to the side. You could feel him watching your every move, and you swallow.

You lean in. You could smell him, somewhat like vanilla and something else, and you’re surprised that you like it. Your lips press to the side of his face, above two of his tentacles, and kiss him. Vaussur closes his eyes and hums- you could feel him physically and mentally relax. His skin was strange, smooth and slick with a thin film of something; but you didn’t dislike it.

You pull back, parting with a little cup! as you did. Vaussur looks a little more… floaty, like he was dreaming.

“... Can you do that again?” He murmurs

You purse your lips together, hands letting go to twiddle your fingers, not quite knowing where to look.

Apparently Vaussur takes your hesitation negatively.

“I feel your nervousness, puppet. What’s the matter? … Did you not like it?”

You didn’t know mind flayers could even sound hurt, but he did, though he tried to hide it from you.

“No, no!” you stressed, “I’m just! It’s! … I’m just… shy.”

His eyes widen. You know what he must be reading from your mind right now: curiosity, interest, maybe even… fondness.

When you look at his mouth you feel a mix of emotions. Were you afraid? Were you excited…? … No you don’t want ot think of what that meant, it’s too much. You stare for his mouth a moment longer while you try to gain the courage to kiss him.

You decided to work up to it.

Your hand reaches for a tentacle tentatively.

“Can I…? Touch your..?”

The tentacle flexes. Vaussur seems clueless as to what you want to do with it, but he lets you have it.

You give it a feather light touch, tracing a finger down its length. You realize how… sensual this feels, and you wonder if mind flayers ever enjoyed the pleasures of the body…? If they could? Vaussus gasps quietly, the tentacle reacting to your touch, twitching closer to you.

You’ve found yourself imagining what it was like to stroke his tentacles, of what would happen. Vaussur closes his eyes, letting you run your hand down. It’s smooth and slick with illithid mucous, cool to the touch, almost slippery. You think you like it. The other tentacles start to curl and sway closer around you, as if looking for your attention. You feel a sudden sense of pride fill you, at the effect you had on this mind flayer, just by touching him lightly.

His tentacles start their own exploration of you; timidly at first, but they quickly gain confidence and start to lavish you with tender caresses. One prods and brushes your cheek. Another traces along your collarbone curiously. The third free tentacle slides behind your back and holds you steady. The one you’re holding- clearly enjoying what you’re doing to it, curls around your arm.

You tittered. It’s like they had minds of their own. You wondered… what would happen if you kissed him on the tentacle?

You lift it up to you and give it a gentle peck.

Apparently, they were sensitive because as soon as you did, claws closed around your back and hips and pulled you flush against Vaussur’s chest, squeaking as he did. He lets out a deep, pleasurable sigh that turns your cheeks red while he grips you tightly, wantingly. You’d always assumed that a mind flayer’s body would feel cold, but even though his skin was covered in fluid, he was warm. Very warm.

So were you.

His golden eyes were glowing brighter than ever, his tentacles caressing you and start to float and curl languidly around you. His mouth is open before you, and your breath mixes with his.

You don’t feel fear.

“Please, my human,” he implores, “teach me. Teach me how you love.”

You didn’t hesitate this time. You felt naturally drawn to him. Willingly, you lean into him, his body, his feelings. You wrap your arms around his neck and somehow, your lips found his mouth and you started to kiss him.

As you expected, kissing Vaussur was nothing like the kisses you’ve experienced with other humans, or even other humanoids. You aren’t sure how to describe it, it felt you were kissing all around you rather than on one single spot, he surrounded you. His tentacles start to wrap you more tightly- around your head and neck. Though the thought of how vulnerable you were in this position with a mind flayer- that he could eat you so easily- did cross your mind, it only did so briefly. You were worried earlier that kissing a mind flayer with their mouths that opened four ways accompanied by lamprey teeth, meant to suction and grind into skulls might feel horrible but… you’re delighted that that wasn’t the case. The sensation of having him surround you and hold you so lovingly tightly was quite pleasant.

He hums, the sound vibrating around you. He starts floating backwards with you, slowly settling into his bed, his hands wandering, feeling you. You could feel him in your mind again, but he wasn’t intruding. It felt more like he was asking for your permission. You happily let him in, and you feel yourself cradled by his thoughts: soft, warm adoration for you.

Despite what the natural order tells you, you felt safe with him.

Vaussur had seemed confused earlier, not knowing what to do with himself while you spoiled him with your kisses, but he’d started becoming more confident, evident from the way he holds you and the tentacles’ affectionate touches. He starts taking control, sitting up a little and folding you backwards, reciprocating your kiss with new fervor, deepening it. His claws start to dig into you possessively, and you squeak, his power overwhelming you.

A flood of satisfaction floods your brain, and it isn’t yours.

I like those sounds. Vaussur’s voice purrs in your mind. Give me more.

You gasp and mewl, squirming in his hold, which only excites the illithid more, tentacles winding around your head tighter. One hand manages to stray from the tangle of limbs, only to quickly get reclaimed by his slender fingers, entwining with yours.

Don’t be scared, sweet human. He teases diabolically, I promise I won’t eat that delicious mind of yours. You’re safe with me.

You don’t know how long he kept you like that, hungrily taking your mouth while his hands and tentacles wander. When he was finally sated, Vaussur gently pries his tendrils off your face, and lets you go. You take a gasp of air, the blood in your head slowly draining away, and you cool down. You could feel warm imprints on your face where his tentacles and mouth were. Already, you find yourself missing the closeness you shared, his warm mouth on yours.

It felt like he was sucking your face in the best ways.

… You feel scandalized by your own thoughts, and you cover your mouth bashfully.

“I felt that.”

Damn it!

Vaussur chuckles, his eyes flickering with smugness. His gaze wanders over your face, like he was admiring his ‘work’.

He looks happy, eyes crinkling at you.

“Just like I promised. Your mind is still yours, untouched, undigested. Though… there are marks on your face. I rather like it.”

You don’t know how red your face is right now, fingers scrambling on it as if you could see it better that way.

“W-what?”

He chuckles again, and your frantic thoughts stop when a finger brushes your cheek.

“Thank you. For showing me that, puppet.”

Slowly, you smile, small and demure. “Your… welcome. Thank you for keeping my mind safe. I…” you swallowed, laughing nervously, “I liked it.”

Oh. Oh, he liked that.

“I did too. Immensely. You’re… incredible.” He praises you. “I would not be opposed to it if we did it again.”

You’re suddenly intimately aware of the fact that you were on his lap, practically straddling him, his arms keeping you close. He’s just invited you to another kiss, and you… like that idea. Sheepishly, you say the same.

“I… I wouldn’t either.”

You’re hoping you’ll get to kiss him again soon. Maybe more.

He lays you down beside him, and as he presses the top of his tentacles to your head, you realize it was his attempt at giving you a peck. You smile, and you instinctively curl into him, tentacles floating around you protectively.

Rest, human. He urges. You’ve done a lot today. Sleep.

You let him mentally compel you. It was nice, being able to sleep whenever you wanted without having to toss and turn before hand. You feel sleep quickly take you and your eyes fall close.

…

Vaussur stays up a bit longer after you, admiring his pretty ‘thrall’ that he feels lucky to have found. His fingers comb through your hair and behind your ear.

You’re… extraordinary.

You smile in your sleep as response. He thinks that might be the prettiest thing he’s seen in his illithid life: you being happy while you were with him.

He doesn’t think these soft, tender feelings are natural for a mind flayer. He wonders if he inhabits a human body.

You curl a little, trying to escape the chill, and Vaussur pulls a blanket up to you, and covers you. He needs to rest soon too, to shed his armor and sink into bed with you by his side.

His small… cute… vulnerable little human.

Whatever he may be in his previous life before the ceremorphosis, one thing is clear to him now.

He loves you.

And no one else can have you.

#aka writing #mind flayer #i imagined them in an established relationship #you’ve been his ‘thrall’ for a while #but basically only in name #he pampers you and keeps you close #hehe #mind flayer hot #unfortunately i dont play a lot of dnd and my dnd knowledge is limited #But of what I do know #some information #He’s “He” because he found it easier for thralls to refer to him as such #and he speaks with his mouth because reader finds it comforting :>#mindflayer x reader

139 notes · View notes

withacapitalp · 9 months

Text

How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 16

Part One Part Fifteen Link to Ao3. Part 17

So late but I needed to post this as soon as I was happy with it haha! Thank you to @stevethehairington for betaing and @thefreakandthehair for listening to my endless rambles

Step Sixteen: Fix What You Brea

Decorating a christmas tree was an interesting experience.

It wasn’t like Eddie had never seen a tree before, it just wasn’t something he had ever personally done. Before living with Wayne, his parents had never stayed in one place long enough to have a tree, and after he moved in with Wayne, they both agreed that the money would be better spent on having a present for Eddie instead of a tree to just stare at. Eddie had always thought it would be kind of stupid anyway. What was the point?

But decorating Steve’s tree was actually pretty enjoyable.

Sure, Frank and Jeff were fighting over eating the popcorn string instead of hanging it up, and yeah, Jonathan kept making little side comments to Nancy about it that were almost a shade too sarcastic for comfort, but the air was filled with laughter, and Steve was directing him on where to put the important ornaments, so it wasn’t all bad.

“What about this one?” Eddie asked, holding up a delicate glass design. It was shaped like a pair of ballet slippers, hanging on a pink ribbon that gleamed in the lights on the tree.

This was the best part in Eddie’s opinion. Every single one of the ‘special’ ornaments had some story attached. A family anecdote or a tradition long held. Steve wasn’t on Eddie’s level of storytelling, but there was something incredibly cozy about holding out an ornament and listening to Steve tell the tale as they hung it up together.

“That ones my mom’s,” Steve said, his voice inordinately warm as he took the ornament and leaned into Eddie’s space to place it on the right side of the tree almost all the way at the top. “She was a ballet dancer back in the day. The ribbon is from her first set of pointe shoes.”

“That’s cool,” Eddie said, looking closer. Sure enough the satin was too thick to be a traditional ribbon, and there were rips in it that had been sewn back together with pale pink thread.

“Yeah. You have to replace pointe shoes every twenty hours of dancing or so, but my mom’s family never had much money, so she used hers until they were too broken to dance,” Steve explained, tracing his index finger down the side of the ribbon, his eyes far away somewhere Eddie couldn’t quite reach.

Huh.

It was strange to think of anyone in Steve’s family as anything but rich. The Harringtons were well known snobs, and although Eddie didn’t personally know Steve’s mom, he had definitely heard about her. Head of the PTA, head of the ladies auxiliary, head of the church prayer group. She was a socialite through and through.

Initially Eddie had heard the word ‘ballet’ and imagined an uptight little prima in a sterile looking studio with starched white tutus and perfect form. Steve’s story had shifted that, and now Eddie’s mind was conjuring up images of a tiny girl practicing and practicing her steps with shoes that were tearing at the seams. A small child trying and trying to be as good as everyone else when the tools she was working with were nowhere near what everyone else got to have.

The same way Eddie himself had practiced on his first guitar before he had started dealing and was able to afford his Warlock.

“Why’d she stop dancing?” Eddie asked softly, suddenly desperate to know the answer. He needed to make the two images connect, needed to find the through line that could turn a poor kid who just wanted to dance into a formidable small town queen.

“She married my dad,” Steve replied, giving the exact answer Eddie hadn’t wanted to hear. “They moved here, had my brother, and Mom didn’t need to work anymore. The back room used to be her studio, but my parents decided to make it a second office for my dad.”

Eddie bit his tongue, looking at the tree but avoiding the shimmering ballet slippers sitting on the branch above his head.

Steve’s mom had been like him, then she married a rich guy, and gave up all the things that mattered for money. She had been just like him, once upon a time.

Would that happen to Eddie?

Was he turning into someone different now because of his crush on Steve?

It wasn’t a completely lunatic idea. He was here decorating a tree, which is something he normally saw as completely arbitrary and useless. He was letting a jock into hellfire, and not just any jock but the King.

Would being near Steve chip away at all of Eddie’s long held beliefs? Would he move backwards and backwards because of this idiotic infatuation, until his guitar was just an ornament on a tree?

“Eddie?”

And then with just one look, Steve erased the entire idea. One flash of those big brown eyes and that little side quirk of his head, and Eddie is a goner. There was no way Steve would ever turn his partner into some cookie cutter perfect picket fence person, no planet on Earth where Steve wouldn’t love someone enough to love their weird bits too. This was Steve.

And besides, it wasn’t even like Eddie was the kind of person that had a shot with Steve in the first place. For a lot of reasons.

“Sorry, got lost in thought, Sweetheart,” Eddie said, crooking his mouth into a half smile and ignoring the panging ache of guilt crushing his chest. Steve’s shoulders relaxed and he leaned closer, letting his arm rest against Eddie’s.

“Well, don’t go somewhere I can’t follow,” He murmured, the smell of his cologne and the feeling of his body sending Eddie into a tailspin.

Just like before when their hands were joined and Steve’s warm breath was blowing across his frozen fingers, Eddie’s mind stuttered to a halt. The endless loops and running thoughts were stuck in place, held motionless by the enigma that was Steve Harrington. It was overwhelming, too much and not enough all at the same time, and Eddie needed to get away from it before he did something he couldn’t take back.

“C’mon, we’ve still got work to do, lazy bones!” Eddie chirped, slipping away from Steve and practically jumping over to the box of carefully packaged decorations. He was so focused on escaping, that he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings until it was a moment too late.

At the same time Eddie picked up the next ornament, Jeff and Frank’s battle over the popcorn string reached its apex. Jeff let go of his side of the string, and Frank flew backwards. He barreled into Jonathan, who crashed into Nancy, who stumbled and bumped into Eddie just enough to make him lose his grip.

The air was filled with the terribly delicate sound of breaking porcelain, and everything seemed to freeze in place. All six of them stared at the ground, where a tiny angel rested in three pieces where it had once been whole.

“Shit, I’m sorry-”

“We were just fucking around, but we shouldn’t have-”

“Steve, I’m so-”

Floods of apologies from the rest, but Eddie stayed silent. He was watching Steve like a hawk as he slowly bent down on one knee and began to collect the pieces of the broken ornament.

Steve hadn’t said a word yet, but he was still saying plenty. His shoulders were almost at his ears, and his fingers were shaking as they tried to grab onto the porcelain remains. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were starting to take on an honestly terrifying shine, and his blinking was getting more and more rapid by the second.

Eddie should have left it alone, should have given Steve space to collect himself, but he had never been good at leaving things be. So, knowing it was the wrong thing to do, Eddie knelt down by Steve and reached out to put a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Sweetheart?”

“It’s fine,” Steve instantly replied, a completely hollow smile materializing on his face as he continued to blink far too much. He leaned away from Eddie’s touch, a tiny jerky movement that put a twenty pound weight on Eddie’s chest. Steve scrambled upwards, cradling the broken ornament close to his heart as he continued to fake a smile. “It was an accident, Babydoll. No worries.”

It was an accident, but that didn’t make it ‘fine’. Steve was obviously so far from fine, and even that little silly name wasn’t enough to assure Eddie of the lie. It actually made it worse, like Steve was trying to appease him, to make Eddie let it go, when he really didn’t think he should.

“I’m gonna go see if we have superglue. It doesn’t look too bad,” Steve said to the entire group, still faking it. Unlike Eddie though, the rest were buying it, tension leaking out of them with relieved smiles and quiet sighs. “You guys finish up though, people will be here any minute.”

And then he was gone, ducking into the kitchen and disappearing from view, leaving Eddie unmoored and unsure of where to go. Every fiber in his being wanted to chase after Steve, catch him alone and hope that he wouldn’t keep trying to hide, but he was stuck in place. Steve had leaned away, escaped as soon as he could, that had to be a sign that he didn’t want Eddie near him.

Wasn’t it?

“Nice job, butterfingers,” Frank joked, gently jabbing an elbow into Eddie’s ribs in an effort to lighten up the air around him.

Eddie threw him a distracted smile, still staring at the doorway Steve had disappeared through and trying to ignore the part of him that was desparate to follow.

“I’m gonna go check on him,” Nancy murmured to Jonathan, nearly inaudible over the sound of Jeff and Frank looking for a broom to get any remaining slivers of porcelain on the ground. Jonathan nodded with a quiet hum, kissing Nancy on the cheek before letting her go without even a word.

Because it was oh so natural for an ex-girlfriend to leave her current boyfriend in the dust to go check on her ex-boyfriend.

Eddie watched her perfect little curls bounce in their perfect little ringlets as she practically skipped out after Steve. Now Nancy was going to go in there and comfort Steve, act all sweet and soft and drag Steve into thinking that she cared when she was the one that had cheated. Hell, maybe they would even kiss, and she would have her hooks in Steve again.

Why wasn’t Jonathan upset about this?!

… Why was Eddie so upset about this?

Eddie let his eyes slip shut, his breath escaping in one huge gust as he finally began to wilt. It wasn’t really any of his business. He and Steve were friends. That was all. If Steve wanted to kiss Nancy, then he would kiss her, and that wasn’t Eddie’s choice. All Eddie had was a fanciful crush, a ridiculous dream, a hope for something that he should never have let himself hope for.

But still.

“I’m gonna find a bathroom,” Eddie muttered to no one, slipping out of the room and carefully creeping down the hallway towards the kitchen.

He could hear the indistinguishable sound of voices coming from the room ahead, the open door tempting him closer and closer for a taste of what Steve and Nancy were discussing.

Was Eddie really doing this?

Yes. Yes he was.

Resolved, Eddie leaned against the hidden side of the doorway, letting his head hit the wall as he shut his eyes and focused on eavesdropping.

“-really don’t want to talk about it, Nancy,” Steve said, sounding utterly exhausted as cupboards opened and slammed shut.

“Okay,” Nancy relented, clearly not happy to let the subject go, “let’s talk about the other thing?”

Other thing?

“Other thing?” Steve asked. Eddie bit back a snicker, his heart fluttering at the way Steve had mirrored him without even knowing it.

“You invited Eddie?”

The humor instantly fled, rushing out of the hallway along with all of the oxygen, leaving Eddie dizzy and struggling to breathe. His indulgent smile soured into a scowl, and his hands curled into tight fists.

It was the tone. That tone that Eddie had heard his whole life. The condescending, lower-than-me, dirt on the shoes of society tone. It was the kind of thing that girls like Nancy could use because they lived in perfect two story houses on cul-de-sacs, and Eddie was trailer trash from the bad side of town.

Well fuck her. Fuck Nancy Wheeler and her stupid perfect life, and fuck her for hating him just for existing. Eddie could hate her right back. He had hating the conventional down to a science, an art form almost. He was brilliant at striking first, and he had half a mind to walk in there and tear her down a few notches, just for the fun of it.

“What is your problem with him?”

Eddie stopped in his tracks, blinking his eyes open and staring in shock at the wall in front of him, watching Steve’s shadow turn to face Nancy’s.

“I don’t have a problem,” Nancy scoffed.

“Obviously you do, Nance,” Steve shot back, crossing his arms “Eddie’s a good guy. They’re my friends.”

A good guy.

It wasn’t exactly a glowing recommendation or anything, but the words and the protectiveness in Steve’s voice was doing terrible wonderful things to Eddie’s stomach. His fingers were still burning from being held by Steve before, and now his brain was on fire too, caught in the blaze that was Steve damn Harrington.

“I… I just think he might be trouble,” Nancy admitted softly, quickly continuing when she heard Steve’s inhale of interjecting, “and not in the way you’re thinking! I promise.”

A long silence, one that gave Eddie too much time to think, one that left too much room for endless questions with zero answers.

What kind of trouble did Nancy think Eddie was dragging Steve into? What would Eddie do that she was so scared of? Did she really care that much about Steve’s reputation? Steve didn’t even care about it anymore!

Was she scared for her brother? Why was all of this so damn cryptic?

“In what way?” Steve finally asked, and Eddie leaned in, needing the answer.

“Just-” Nancy cut herself off with a frustrated little sound, and her shadow eclipsed Steve as she stood on her tiptoes to put her arms around his shoulders.

“If you ever need to talk. About anything. Me and Jonathan are here. We would never judge you for anything. You know that right?”

Eddie barely heard it, the words muffled between the two bodies, but he heard Steve’s soft chuckle, and saw the way his shadow arms wrapped around Nancy.

Even just an image of them on the wall looked so… right.

It made a small part of Eddie die inside.

He closed his eyes once, hating the burn that was already there waiting. He shouldn’t have come over and listened. He shouldn’t have done any of this. But as Eddie took a step back to walk to the living room with his tail tucked between his legs, Nancy spoke again.

“And you need to tell them about El before she gets here.”

El?

Who was El?

“Shit, you’re right,” Steve sighed, pulling away from Nancy, “I totally forgot.”

“Do you remember the story?”

“Nancy I’m the one that came up with it,” Steve said, annoyance tinging his voice, “I remember the story.”

Story?

Eddie was definitely eavesdropping about something bigger than relationship woes now, and the mystery of it all dug right into his soft spot, pulling him away from his aching heart and tugging him forward with a desperate need to know more.

This was the thing that Wayne always tried to warn him about. Eddie’s need to know everything was always getting him in trouble, and he had heard plenty of times about what curiosity did to cats.

That was all true… but the thing that Wayne always seemed to forget was that satisfaction brought that cat back.

“It’s important that we get this right, Steve. You know what-”

But whatever Steve knew, Eddie didn’t seem destined to hear it. As he leaned closer, intent on catching every word, he overbalanced, tripping over his own feet and slamming his entire body against the other side of the doorway, coming into full view of both of them. Steve and Nancy both jolted, pulling away from each other and staring at Eddie with slack jaws and wide eyes.

Fuck.

“This is what I get for never tying my shoes,” Eddie joked awkwardly, trying to be casual as he straightened up and let out the world’s worst fake laugh. His brain was racing, running as fast as it could to come up with any rational reason for him being there besides eavesdropping.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, his brow furrowing. He didn’t even seem to catch what was going on, but Nancy was practically glaring, her lips pursed in quiet fury.

“I’m fine, Sweetheart,” Eddie reassured him, ignoring Nancy’s look in favor of focusing all of his attention on Steve. If he played it right, then Nancy calling him out would just look like she was against him, which Steve had already tried to stop.

He wasn’t being manipulative. This was just strategy, the same kind of strategic thinking that any dungeon master worth their salt would employ. It was improv, a game, an act. Nothing bad. Nothing wrong.

So why was guilt creeping cold fingers down Eddie’s spine?

“What do you want?” Nancy asked, clearly trying to go for nonchalant but coming off completely cold with her crossed arms and flat inflection. It wasn’t working in her favor if Steve’s quick sharp look was anything to go by, and Eddie did his best not to preen under Steve’s protection.

“Drinks? The boys were wondering if you had anything stronger than eggnog,” Eddie wondered, coming up with his excuse on the fly. It would work. Frank was never one to turn down a stiff drink, especially if it came loaded with whatever ridiculously expensive alcohol the Harringtons were keeping stashed away here.

Nancy tossed her hair over his shoulder, raising a single brow as her expression stayed firmly unimpressed. It made Eddie want to squirm in place, but he held firm, meeting her head on.

“You know there’s gonna be kids at this party, right?” Nancy said, her voice a little less frosty, but a hell of a lot more condescending. “And the chief of police.”

Eddie bristled, opening his mouth to tell her exactly where Hopper could stick it, but Steve intervened before he could.

“There’s nothing wrong with having a little,” Steve offered in a mediating tone, already moving towards one of the high cabinets and starting to open it. “But just one before they get here. Last thing I need is the brats trying to convince me they’re old enough for whiskey.”

“Jack and Coke? Or are you spoiling me with the good stuff?” Eddie asked, possibly laying it on an inch too thick, but unable to help it when Steve was giving him that fondly annoyed side eye.

“We do not drink the good stuff as a mixed beverage,” Steve lectured, grabbing a fat bottle from behind a box on the shelf and bringing it down, “but I think breaking out the crown wouldn’t be amiss.”

“A crown for a king!” Eddie crowed, taking the bottle of Crown Royal from Steve and wiggling his eyebrows. Steve huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head at Eddie’s antics and turning towards the fridge.

“Here, Nance,” Steve said absentmindedly, holding out a bottle of coke for her, “take that inside and you guys can make your own before everyone else gets here. I’ll be in once I find the glue.”

“Why don’t I help you?” Eddie blurted out, his mouth moving before his mind even caught up with what he was saying.

“Oh, sure,” Steve agreed, still distracted as he began to root around in cupboards.

“You’ll be needing this,” Eddie said sweetly, offering up the bottle to Nancy as she walked past him.

Nancy’s eyes narrowed impossibly further, and she let out a short sigh, taking the bottle of alcohol with a vicious little swipe and striding out of the room. Eddie watched her go, barely resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at her retreating form.

He had won. That was what mattered.

Did Eddie even know what he had won? No, but he still felt like he did.

Once it was just the two of them, Eddie’s hackles began to slowly lower. There was no need to be on guard when it was just him and Steve. He idly twirled around the kitchen table, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen and looking around the room with distracted curiosity. He had been in the kitchen before, but never really cared enough to explore the details.

Now every fridge magnet was a new discovery, and the way that the spices were lined up on the rack was information that seemed important. But the most interesting thing in the kitchen was the angel on the counter right by Eddie’s fingers.

It was a pretty thing, delicate, but somehow still beautiful, even in parts. The sculpted wings were curled around the figure of a little boy, kneeling with his hands cupped over a star. At the bottom of the ornament was the name ‘Jaime’ in ornate script.

Jaime.

“Who’s Jaime?” Eddie wondered aloud. He had mostly been talking to himself, but his words caused Steve to stop short, flying around from the drawer he had been searching through and whirl around to face Eddie.

“Where did you…” Steve trailed off, noticing the angel. He wilted like a dying flower, biting at the inside of his cheek as he turned his back to Eddie, returning to the drawer of odds and ends.

“Jaime’s my brother,” Steve said shortly.

Eddie’s shoulders were starting to tighten, but he pushed through the feeling. It wasn’t a rejection, or an outright refusal to speak. Steve was just being cagey, secretive the way he sometimes was.

Eddie could crack that.

“Ah, yes, the elusive mystery brother,” He joked, putting on a fake accent and bopping over to Steve’s side, bumping against him in an effort to get Steve smiling again. “Will the elder Harrington sibling be making an appearance at tonight’s festivities?”

Maybe if he was, Eddie would get some answers. Reasons for the panic attack at the Hideout, or some details on the mysterious ‘El’. The possibility of unraveling another part of Steve was enticing, coaxing Eddie further down the rabbit hole.

“Um…”

Just like that the curiosity was gone. Instantly killed by the way Steve’s adams apple was starting to bob, and the sharp shaking inhale that went along with it. Eddie’s heart fell to his feet, and his fingers felt cold for the first time since Steve had touched him.

“I was just kidding around. You don’t have to-” Eddie began.

“It’s okay,” Steve interrupted, still worrying his lip as his eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere but at Eddie. He was gearing up, trying to find what he wanted to say or maybe trying to force it out. Either way, Eddie was going to be frozen in place until Steve was ready to speak.

“Jaime um… Jaime died,” Steve finally managed, the word practically shooting out of his mouth the second he was done choking on it.

It was like being dunked in a freezing cold shower and tossed out in the snow. Not only had Eddie forced Steve into talking about his dead brother, he had broken the ornament obviously meant to commemorate him.

If he had a gun, he would be pushing it up against his temple. Nope. Even that wouldn’t be enough.

“Fuck,” Eddie hissed out, wishing he could just shut his damn mouth for once, but he was too keyed up to stay quiet. The apology was worthless, but it was already spilling out of his mouth, vomiting itself up, “Steve, I-”

“Really, it’s fine,” Steve insisted, busying himself with looking for the glue. “How could you know? Besides, he died before I was born, so…”

“So?” Eddie prompted, not really sure where Steve was going with that.

Steve said ‘so’ like that meant it didn’t matter, but from just one glance Eddie knew how much this did. Steve, who was one of the most open people Eddie knew, was hunched over, practically trying to disappear from Eddie’s gaze, hiding away whatever emotions were trying to push themselves up to the surface, demanding to be felt.

“So- I don’t know,” Steve said, cutting himself off with a sigh. He held up the tiny bottle of superglue, walking over to the other side of the counter, his back to Eddie again. “But it’s my mom’s favorite ornament, and she would get really upset if she came home and it was broken,”

Steve gave a tiny laugh that wasn’t really a laugh, the tip of his finger running over the edge of the wing like it had run over the satin of the ballet slipper ribbon.

“Not that I even know when she’s coming home again,” He whispered, the bitterness in the words so heavy that it was sitting on Eddie’s tongue.

It was just wrong. Eddie had never heard Steve sound so beaten down, even in the parking lot the other night. This was somehow worse than just watching Steve shake through an unseen panic that he couldn’t control.

But, unlike that night, Eddie could do something about this. So, rather than satisfy his own curiosity, Eddie put his needs to the side.

“Can I?” Eddie asked, holding out his hand for the glue and the angel. “I work on miniatures all the time. I’m super steady.”

Steve looked down at the hand outstretched toward him, then up at Eddie. A long slow look that went deep in Eddie, making him want to squirm with how far it was going.

Then, finally, Steve relented. He handed over the pieces and hopped up onto the counter, watching Eddie like a hawk.

Eddie immediately went to work, bending his head close to the angel and narrowing his eyes as he carefully glued first the broken wing on, and then the small corner of the name plaque. He held both in a firm but soft grip, balancing the ornament effortlessly between his hands as he waited for the glue to bond the pieces back together. And, as he did all of that, he worked up the courage to say what he was thinking.

“You know it’s okay, right?” Eddie whispered, unable to make his voice any louder.

“What is?” Steve whispered back, just as quiet.

“If you aren’t okay,” Eddie replied, braving a quick glance up at Steve’s face.

It was the wrong thing to do. The blank look of utter shock on Steve’s face was painful, hurting Eddie inside in a place he didn’t even know existed.

All at once Eddie was sure that he was the first person to ever tell Steve such a thing, and that was just… too much. It was too much pressure, too much potential to fuck it up and hurt Steve even more, too much of a chance that Eddie would say the wrong thing.

But it was also too much to not be sure Steve knew that it was the absolute truth.

“You’re allowed to not be okay,” Eddie said, gently placing the repaired angel in Steve’s palm.

Taglist: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name@minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

194 notes · View notes

corruptedcaps · 9 months

Text

The Descent

"Maybe if I put on her magic ponytail, I can find out where she hid our project," Matilda said, an almost entranced glint in her eyes as she played with the stolen strand of hair. The once long and flowing ponytail now lay coiled on her palm, its aura of power palpable even to the touch.

The hair had came from Vicky, their long time tormentor. She had been taunting them about how she had stolen their science project and was going to use it for herself. So engrossed in her taunting that she failed to see the stairs she tripped down. Matilda and Sarah were the only ones around and rushed to help her.

However as she they got to the bottom of the stairs they were both shocked to see a very different Vicky laying unconscious there. She was chubbier, blotchier and in different clothes but it was definitely still her. Weirder still was her long blonde ponytail was laying beside her perfectly detached.

As the ambulance arrived, Matilda quickly pocketed the ponytail into her bag, knowing something was special about it. Now after hours of discussion she was convinced it held some sort of magic properties.

Sarah shot her a skeptical look, her eyebrows knitting together. "Are you sure about this, Matilda? What if it changes you too?"

Matilda's determination shone through her apprehension. "We've suffered enough, Sarah. Vicky has tormented us for far too long. This ponytail might be the key to ending her reign of terror and retrieving our science project."

With a deep breath, Matilda gingerly placed the ponytail atop her head. She was about to try and find away to attach it in place when suddenly she felt it wrap around her own hair. An electrifying surge coursed through her, making her feel both exhilarated and oddly connected to something beyond herself.

However, looking in the mirror she found herself slightly saddened not to see her appearance differ at all. If anything the long blond ponytail looked kind of dumb coming out of her brown shoulder length hair.

“Well? Anything?” Sarah asked.

“No? But maybe I just need to concentrate.” Matilda said as she closed her eyes. She focused on Vicky mind becoming a canvas on which snippets of Vicky's past painted themselves in vivid colors.

Images flashed before Matilda's eyes: Vicky's sinister grins, her malicious delight in causing pain, and the twisted pleasure she took in their suffering. Matilda saw the stolen science project, hidden away in a place she recognized, the school’s supply closet in the basement. When the torrent of memories subsided, Matilda blinked, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within her.

Opening her eyes, Matilda faced Sarah with newfound resolve. "I know where it is."

As they made their way towards the closet at the other end of school, a strange voice began to creep into Matilda's head. It was a voice dripping with praise, like honeyed words that tickled her thoughts. "Matilda," it whispered, "you've freed me from Vicky's grasp. I'm glad to be with you now, my new host."

Matilda's steps faltered as a conflicted expression played across her face, unnoticed by Sarah. The voice seemed to resonate within her, an eerie echo that sent a shiver down her spine. Yet, there was an odd allure to it, like a promise of power and recognition she had never known before.

"I've watched you suffer at Vicky's hands, and now that you hold my essence, you're destined for greatness," the voice continued, its tones beguiling. A faint smile tugged at the corners of Matilda's lips as she soaked in the praise. Her nails seemed to subtly lengthen and shine with a newfound luster. "Together, we shall ascend to new heights, and you will become the new queen here."

A mixture of fascination and dread welled up inside Matilda. The voice's seductive promise of power was tempting, and a part of her reveled in the attention it bestowed upon her. She found herself absentmindedly stroking the ponytail lovingly, her fingers entwining with its strands, as she considered the dark promise it held.

As they continued on their descent to the basement, Matilda didn’t notice the subtle changes in her appearance. Her lips seemed plumper, her breasts a touch fuller, radiating an alluring charm she hadn't possessed before. It was as if the essence of the ponytail was altering her, physically and mentally.

As they finally reached the closet, Matilda found herself distracted by images and memories the hair was showing her. Vicky hadn’t been the only host to the hair and Matilda was captivated by the wicked images she was seeing. So much so that it took her a second to realize that Sarah was asking her a question through her haze. "So where in this mess is our project? Matilda? Matilda, are you alright?"

Matilda's eyes snapped open, her gaze locking onto Sarah's worried expression. Irritation surged within her, the grip of the voice's influence making her responses sharper than she intended. "I'm fine, Sarah. Just give me some space and go look for the project," she said in an unexpectedly bossy tone, "I'll stay here and delve further into the memories of the ponytail. Maybe there's something we missed."

While Sarah walked off slightly worried about her friend, Matilda closed her eyes, focusing on the ponytail's essence. In reality she knew exactly where the project was in the room but she wanted to to experience more of the ponytail’s memories. They were intoxicating. Each one showcasing Vicky's malevolent actions. To her surprise, Matilda found herself immersed in the scenes, a strange sense of delight bubbling up within her as she witnessed Vicky's cruelty.

Then, something shifted. Matilda saw herself in Vicky's place, commanding a group of loyal girls who followed her every command. They tormented others with glee, reveling in their power over those weaker than them. Matilda experienced the rush of control, the thrill of manipulation, and a dark satisfaction as her victims trembled before her.

“This could be you…. Popular. Beautiful. Powerful.” The ponytail hissed in her mind.

With each memory, Matilda's posture subtly changed, her shoulders straightening with a newfound confidence. Her once fair complexion took on a warm, tanned glow, and her makeup seemed to apply itself perfectly, accentuating her features in ways she had never managed before. As she absorbed the memories and physical changes, Matilda continued to stroke the ponytail, feeling an intimate connection to its power and allure.

The voice's promise of becoming the new queen of mean resonated more deeply now, as the lines between Matilda and the malevolent force blurred further. The temptation of power, beauty, and control tugged at her very being, threatening to consume her completely.

But something was stopping her from truly giving in. A lone face of worry appeared in her mind’s eye. Sarah. What would Sarah think of her if she went down this path? Sarah had been her only friend through their hard years of high school. They would graduate soon and they were going to be roommates at college. She couldn’t throw that all away. Could she?

"Sarah doesn't really care about you. She's always held you back, made you weak," the voice whispered seductively. Matilda found herself nodding in hesitant agreement. "With my power, you will rise above her, she will be nothing more than an ant to you."

As the voice's words wormed their way into her thoughts, a subtle grin betrayed the internal struggle. Sarah's presence, once comforting, now seemed like an obstacle. The voice's seductive promises fueled a growing resentment towards her friend, amplifying the allure of power and the desire for domination.

As Matilda continued to stroke the ponytail, her body underwent more extreme changes. Her tits swelled, straining against her clothing, which suddenly shifted to become short and revealing. Her long brown boring hair had been absorbed into the ponytail, causing it to grow long and blonde. Her lips plumped even further, and a sultry aura seemed to emanate from her very being, transforming her appearance into one of undeniable sexiness.

In the midst of Matilda's changes, Sarah's diligent search bore fruit. She let out a triumphant exclamation. But Matilda's attention was elsewhere as Sarah’s squeal caused her to open her eyes. A nearby mirror caught her attention, and she saw for the first time the changes the ponytail had bestowed upon her. She gazed in wonder at her altered appearance – her posture, her tanned complexion, her enhanced beauty. A wicked smile crept across her lips as she admired her reflection, her newfound look intoxicating.

"Matilda, look I found it! Oh my god, what happened to you?" Sarah's initially excited but then worrisome voice broke through, as she approached Matilda with the project in hand.

Without a second thought, Matilda's gaze snapped from her reflection to Sarah's outstretched hands holding the project. A cruel laugh bubbled up from within her, the voice's influence fueling her darker impulses. With a swift and deliberate motion, Matilda knocked the project out of Sarah's hands, the beakers and carefully constructed model shattering on the ground.

Sarah looked at Matilda in shock, her eyes wide and hurt. "Matilda, what... why?"

Matilda's lips curled into a cold smirk, her gaze unwavering. "Why should I care about some stupid science project, Sarah? It's time for you to realize my new station.”

The words, dripping with malice, hung heavy in the air. Matilda reveled in the twisted satisfaction of asserting dominance, fueled by the voice's encouragement and the newfound beauty that seemed to amplify her confidence. As Sarah stood there, stunned and betrayed, Matilda's descent into the depths of darkness seemed almost complete.

Sarah's shock quickly transformed into desperation. "Matilda, it's the ponytail, you have to take it off! It's turning you evil!"

Matilda's laughter echoed through the tense air, chilling in its newfound cruelty. "Oh, Sarah, I thought you were the smart one of us two. I know exactly what it's doing to me, and I love it."

Sarah's eyes brimmed with tears as she pleaded, "Please, Matilda, you're not yourself. You're letting it control you."

Matilda's smirk deepened, and her voice took on an eerie, almost mocking tone. "Matilda is dead, loser and I’m in control. You're looking at the new queen of the school now – Mercedes."

The transformation in Matilda was complete. Her once gentle nature had been consumed by the dark temptations of the ponytail's power. Her eyes gleamed with a sinister glint, her beauty now a reflection of the malevolent force that had taken hold. The voice's influence had reshaped her into something unrecognizable, a twisted echo of the girl who had once been bullied. Now she held all the cards.

A WEEK LATER

A week had passed since the transformation, and the school seemed like a different place. Mercedes had swiftly filled the void left by Vicky's absence. She radiated a commanding presence, her newfound beauty and malevolence drawing in Vicky’s old clique. Cruelty had become her currency, popularity her domain.

Sarah watched from the sidelines, heart heavy with a mix of sadness and shock. Mercedes was unrecognizable, her every move calculated to assert dominance. The voice's influence had turned her into a ruthless queen, and Sarah was now just another pawn in her game.

To Mercedes, Sarah meant nothing more than a tool to be used. She forced Sarah to do her homework, create a new science project, and cater to her whims. The once unbreakable bond between friends had been severed, replaced by Mercedes' insatiable thirst for control.

“Hurry up nerd, I don’t have all day to wait for you to finish this dumb project. My hawt boyfriend Chad is waiting and I don’t like to keep my man waiting.” She said with a cruel smirk as Sarah worked tirelessly, her heart aching for the loss of her friend and the darkness that now ruled her. The school had a new ruler, and Sarah was left to navigate the cruel reality of the queen of mean who had once been Matilda.

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #corrupted hair

165 notes · View notes

blue-sadie · 9 months

Note

So i've seen this edit about quaritch and spider with that song "oh i love it and hate it at the same time, you and i drinking posion from the same vine" and just image it; reader who has an avatar and neteyam as her mate and she told everybody that her mom was na'vi and her dad was an avatar. When lo'ak and neteyam went to save spider they see reader in her human form and she thinks neteyam is dissapointed in her. Her avatar dies and she has to live with neteyam in her human form. The reader thinks he hates her or smtg. I thank you very much if you could write my ideea or just react <3

Sorry this might not be exactly what you wanted but I hope you like it 😁

Our Love Is Pure

Neteyam x Human Reader

Summary: sometimes our thoughts get the best of us causing us either failure or fortune

Warning: music = lyrics, reader death (kind of)

3rd person pov

Neteyam watched the horizon hoping and praying to see Norman's helicopter but every time he does his heart just breaks all over again.

Telling myself I won't go there Oh, but I know that I won't care

You saved him, you pushed him out the way and took the bullet, the bullet that would've killed him but it killed you instead.

He held your avatar as it died he pleaded and begged for eywa to give you another chance you deserved it while he didn't he should have protected you he should have taken it not you.

With each day passing no news or sight of you, his heart arches more and more he struggles to look after himself but what he didn't know it was the same for you.

Tryna wash away all the blood I've spilt This lust is a burden that we both share Two sinners can't atone from a lone prayer Souls tied, intertwined by our pride and guilt There's darkness in the distance

It took norm days just to get you to speak but with each word becomes more shakey, what is supposed to happen between the two of you.

You never really hung out with him in your human form mostly because of safety reasons would he still want to be with you.

Those thoughts were clouding your head most of the day you would spend in your room staring at the way norman says your eyes get duller by the day, your skin has become paler and your body thinner because of the lack of food and water.

From the way that I've been livin' But I know I can't resist it Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time You and I drink the poison from the same vine

Norman didn't know what to do he didn't know if contacting neteyam would help or just make it worse but what pushed him over the edge is when you came stumbling into the kitchen bearly holding yourself up.

You collapsed and he caught you before you hit the floor you blacked out, that was his breaking point they put you onto one of the med beds attaching an iv to your arm and made sure you were stable.

And once they knew you were safe he contacted jake to let him know about the situation and jake could almost say the same was happening there.

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time Hidin' all of our sins from the daylight From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time

When jake finally told neteyam what happened with you neteyam finally expressed emotion other then sadness and finally did something other then stare out into the open sea.

He tried to get on his ikran but his father and mother tried to stop him and reason with him to stay.

He finally burst and let his emotions out shocking his parents screaming at them that he needs and too see you and how he would be dead without you

Tellin' myself it's the last time Can you spare any mercy that you might find If I'm down on my knees again? Deep down, way down, Lord, I try Try to follow your light, but it's night time Please, don't leave me in the end

He yelled about all the times you were there for him and now he's gonna be there for you, his parents let him go because either he was going back.

The ride was long and terrible his lack of food and sleep was making his ikran nervous and almost crash afew times.

He finally felt relieved when he saw his home land in the distance and he spoke to himself praying that you would hear him, I'm coming baby hold on.

There's darkness in the distance I'm beggin' for forgiveness (ooh) But I know I might resist it, oh Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time You and I drink the poison from the same vine

He dodged the floating rocks and ignored as some ikran riders tried to talk to him as they flew past he didn't care all he cared about was you.

When he landed he could tell something was off when norman came running at him and telling him you need him.

He didn't even let norman finish and dashed into the lab his eyes widening as he saw the many scientists crowed around you.

His heart clench and his body began to sway with dizziness he already lost you once and he wasn't gonna lose you again.

He crouched at the head of you bed looking down at your face you and your avatar were almost identical.

He slowly and softly caressed your small face with his fingers as he spoke to you as tears streamed down his face, baby please don't do this to me I can't lose you again.

He sat there even after the other scientists left he sat there staring at you his hand clenching yours He was to scared to let go.

To scared to lose you, it only took 2 hours before you woke you your face twisted in confusion as you felt someone holding your hand.

It took you a couple minutes to open your eyes but when they did they filled with tears, neteyam tried to hug you but all you did was push him away.

He felt rejected and hurt in till he heard you speak "why are you here" you sniffled he felt confused.

"W-what do you mean baby" he murmured trying to think of reasons you would rejected him.

"Neteyam my avatar is dead" your voice was strained and raspy "what does that have to do with anything" he asked sitting beside your bed.

You didn't know if was joking or just trying to fool you "n-nete i-" "do you think I'd just leave you because your avatar is dead".

It was like he could read my mind, I looked away from him ashamed "yn I fell for you, your beautiful personality not your body" he murmured caressing my face and bringing it to look at his.

"I fell for your clumsiness, your idiotic ideas that always get us into trouble I fell for you" his words drew a quiet giggle from you making him smile.

"I feel for your mind and heart"

Tag.List

@greekgods15

@sweetirilly

#avatar #avatar pandora #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #avatar x reader fluff #avatar fluff #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam fluff #neteyam x avatar reader #neteyam x reader fluff #neteyam x avatar reader fluff

186 notes · View notes

rendy-a · 11 months

Text

Locked in with the Film Research Club

I had Vil on the mind from finishing my last fic when someone "liked" one of my Club Visit stories and...here we are! Sorry Ortho, but of course Vil steals the show here!

Sometimes, it strikes you at odd moments that Vil is famous, really famous. You'd been walking past the gym when you saw a student drop a heavy looking box and kick it. "Who does he think he is? Mr. Famous is too good to do the grunt work but can order us around like we work for him!" The student waking with him also drops his box and smiles, "Yeah, let's ditch and let our delicate princess figure this out himself." With that, they both laughingly depart.

You walked over, already having an idea in mind about what had happened. You pulled open the box to see a mixture of lighting and sound equipment. You give a small sigh, putting the picture together. Vil was a strict a leader in the Film Research Club as he was a Dorm Leader. Not everyone could deal with his...intense... style of encouragement and grew to envy and resent him.

You sighed but hefted the boxes anyway. You wouldn't exactly say that you and Vil were friends, but after the VDC, you were at least friendly. Plus, Ortho was always telling you about the things he'd done in club. You can't disappoint a fellow first-year! So, you trudge your way over to the alchemy school wing that you heard the Film club would be using for their shoot today.

When you arrived, you found Ortho setting up some complicated machinery to attach the camera to. You greet the cheerful boy and tell him about the boxes. "Vil Schoenheit has been looking for that equipment. He'll be so happy you've found it, Prefect! I'll go tell him right away!" You pat Ortho on the back, "That's OK. I've got lots of spare time and you seem busy here. I'll go tell him. Just point me in the right direction!"

You found Vil in a large storage closet near the Alchemy room, just as Ortho suggested he'd be. You swing the door open and approach Vil, who is leafing through a book near the back of the closet where a small amount of light shines through a tiny window. "Hey Vil, Ortho sent me," you began before Vil turns and shouts, "Perfect! Grab the door!" You jump at the shouting and hear an ominous click behind you.

Vil sighs, and you look at him guiltily, "Oops." It turns out that the supply closet near the Alchemy rooms locks automatically when closed due to the expensive ingredients and tools stored within. Plus, since some of the components have a chance of magical reaction if not stored correctly, the room was warded against magic. All of that added up to you and Vil being locked in the supply closet until someone came to find you.

Vil gave another sigh and returned to the book he was viewing. After a moment of looking around, you wandered over to join him. Plus... it's a closet; you really don't have a lot of choices here. You peek over and see it's a photo album. "Rook took them," Vil comments when he notices your interest. "I was in here picking up some special effects potions. Rook makes them in Science Club and leaves them in here until we need them. I guess he also stores some old photos here, too."

You leaned in to look. They were pictures from last year's Film Research Club. Some were productions, and others were candid shots from behind the scenes. A few you found confusing, but you imagined, if you asked Rook, he'd have a long explanation about why he'd photographed a scarf on a chair or a stack of paint canisters. By the end of Rooks flowing explanation, you'd probably believe the unusual subjects to be highly beautiful as well.

Vil turns the page, and the next image is his own, albeit a somewhat younger version. A frown graces his beautiful face, and he comments, "I'm sure he never intended for this to be seen, but I do hate pictures of myself being taken when I can't control them." You look at the photo of second-year Vil, "You look good, though." He looks at you sadly, "How naive you are, potato. You never know what sort of trouble a small photo can start. The tiniest detail that goes unnoticed by you can start a wild scandal."

Vil crosses his arms across his chest and looks at you with a frown, "And speaking of scandal, no good will come of the story of us being in this closet." You can easily imagine the gossip but assure Vil, "I'm sure it will be fine. No one is here but the club members, and we will just explain what happened. I'm sure they will understand!" Vil continues to look at you for a moment, and his expression slowly slides into one of amusement, "Potato, you are so refreshingly optimistic and naive."

You give a small laugh and smile, you know it to be true. Vil looks at you with a sort of fondness. It was so rare to find such a genuine person to interact with once you've become as famous as he. Suddenly, Vil's smile grows sharper and sly, "I, in the other hand, am not as foolish as you. If the peanut gallery is going to spread rumors about me..." You look on in amazement as his smile deepens and he slides close to you...

The closet door opens at last, and Ortho greets you, "Vil Schoenhit! Prefect! My sensors indicate that you have not left this room for thirty minutes. The club members grew worried, and we came to check on you!" You smile gratefully at the AI boy, "Thanks for the rescue, Ortho. I thought we'd be stuck in there all afternoon." Even as you smile at Ortho, you spot the envious duo from earlier. Just as Vil predicted, you can hear their gossiping whispers begin.

You hold your head high and push past them. After all, Vil was right. If people are going to talk about you kissing in the closet, then you might as well be kissing in the closet. You gently put your fingertips to your lips and smile, it wouldn't be a photo to add to Rook's album but you think it is definitely a beautiful memory of Film Research Club for you to hold on to.

#mini event #club visits #twst #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #twst x reader

235 notes · View notes

yanderes-galore · 10 months

Note

I have a request. A scenario where romantic yandere Master Chief becomes self aware and realizes he's in an video game. Though now he desperately wants to be with the reader.

Sure! This fic has two parts so this part will be a bit of a set up to the actual yandere behavior of Chief in part 2 (Hopefully).

I tried to make it make sense yet I still struggle with Self-Aware characters, lol 😅

Bigger Picture - Part 1

Yandere! Self-Aware! Master Chief Scenario

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Self-Aware game character, This is mostly set up, Slight obsession at first sight, Dubious relationship, Slight possessive themes implied, Possible OOC Master Chief.

The Master Chief has always been the best of the best of the best. People assumed he became who he is through hard effort and training. John was just naturally great.

But humanity's greatest hero had gotten help.

Was it Cortana who helped him through it all? Perhaps Blue Team? Maybe even the Arbiter, Thel?

While they have helped his journey, that was not the only help he got.

Master Chief, John, had gotten outside help. Help beyond his comprehension. This help was not Forerunner in nature, they were human.

They were you.

The Master Chief had been guided by you through his journey. He had fought through the Covenant, The Flood, and the Prometheans all with you. You were a presence who was meant to be Chief's other half.

You were also how John had realized his life was a lot smaller than he thought.

You see, like an AI, John's life is fabricated. All of these missions, all these lives he sought to protect, it all felt real. To him, it felt very real and important.

Then when he defeated the Didact and Cortana warped him to a new plane, Chief saw something. Before he saw Cortana again, he was a screen. He saw you, a device in hand.

Originally these images confused John. Who was it that he saw? Why did he feel... comfort.

When asking Cortana or any other part of the UNSC about it, they assumed he had brain damage. His scans showed he was fine, however. No one else knew about the figure he saw.

It would take a long time before Chief understood. To him it felt like forever, it was probably nothing to you. It was then he knew the truth...

He's fake. It's all fake. His life is only able to exist because of one presence, yours.

You were the only thing that made him relevant. Not only did you guide him, you controlled him. It took Cortana saving him after the Didact for him to understand.

This information cursed his mind.

John was no more a construct than Cortana, was he? He feels like he wasn't supposed to know this. He wasn't supposed to know about you.

Now John wanted to know more. For now he'd focus on his missions, yet he was always looking for a way to see you again. He wasn't sure what exactly made him want to free himself of your control, but it was a new goal.

John began to find himself fascinated by Forerunner technology much more than before. He wonders if this way he can find a way to you. The thought of learning the truth about you is what now drove him.

While you were simply playing your favorite game, you had no idea of what was going on. You had no idea that John was sentient. You had no clue what went on when the game was off

You were completely oblivious to John's desperate scour for the truth of his existence.

In fact you would have no idea what was going on until it's too late.

John began to fall for the idea of meeting you. Romantic attraction didn't occur in his mind, in fact it wouldn't until much later. All he knew was he needed to find a way to meet you. Even if it went against the mission.

The closest John got to seeing you was small glimpses. Occasionally he'd "hallucinate" and see you again in front of a screen. He began to grow attached to your guiding presence, yearning to learn more.

He didn't know your name, why he was seeing you, and why he needed to know this all now. Was there a reason? Did YOU choose for him to know?

Was he meant to see any of this?

John's search for information began to degrade his mind. He wasn't meant to know any of this. It wasn't in his code.

But as he continued, soon he became more than an avatar for some code in a game. Soon, he became more and more real as he grew more sentient. It builds up and up... until...

He finds a way.

By what appears to be by accident, Chief stumbles through a wall.

It was unintentional, it even scares the unshakable Master Chief for a moment. He... was in an entirely new place. One that look very green and... binary.

It was like looking inside of an AI. The scenery unnerved John as he explored. Was this also something he was meant to discover?

Then he finds it.

Amidst the darkness surrounded by green lights, he sees a screen. A screen that shows the person he's been looking for. He feels... relieved.

It's you.

That controller-like device of yours sits down on on a desk. Meanwhile you're looking through a bookcase. John doesn't realize he's drifted closer, reaching his hand out.

You looked so peaceful. A human who's not surrounded by intergalactic war. It's a feeling he's not very used to.

He stretches his arm out to the screen towards you. You've been tormenting his mind for so long. Now... he can finally know the truth.

When he sees you... his mind thinks of one thing.

You're his guardian... his guide... you're his.

He presses against the screen, visor not looking away from you... and he falls through.

#yandere halo #yandere master chief #yandere john 117 #yandere self aware au

154 notes · View notes

voxmortuus · 11 months

Text

►PAIRING: Tangerine x Fem!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Bullet Train ►WORDS: 1.3k ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: Tangerine is constantly traveling for his work. Never really in one place for too long. Never gets attached, the only person he's ever truly loved was his brother. But work brought him back to that place. That place you met. That place you had such a beautiful night together, that one time he let down his walls, and that one night he opened up, and that one night of nothing but raw passion. Standing there, that spot on the beach, the palm trees, and the sounds of the waves crashing sends Tangerine into a trance, and it all comes rushing back to him. That's the night that crosses his mind. It's been a year, and it's as fresh in his mind as the night it happened. ►SONG INSPIRATION: Heat Waves - Glass Animals ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Unguarded "soft" Tangerine | Public Intoxication Tipsy feeling not drunk | Heavy Petting & Making-out | Public Nudity | Sex on the beach | Vaginal Unprotected Penetration | Hints of Internal Ejaculation | Cuddling | Multiple times implied | Tangerine Waking you up to go back to work | Cliff Hanger | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ►NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, or had envisioned yourself, I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed my vision. ►IMAGE & DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa ►My Master Masterlist

The hot sand mixed with sunscreen and maybe even a hint of coconut, a sweet scent, an enveloping scent, a warm scent that takes over that memory part of the brain, that memory part that taps into the pleasure senses. The gurgling waves were metronomic. The gushing waves were comforting. The humming of the wave song beguiled him. The sea was kindling its own symphony. It was as if it was putting him in a trance. Standing there, the salty breeze kissed his face, his bright gray eyes closed for a moment and that's when it settled in. That memory from that one night a year to this very day.

"Careful! You're going to spill the bottle!" you chuckled watching him as he took a sip. "You're draggin' me Darlin'! Course I'm going to spill the bottle." he chuckled as you both stumbled in the sand. "I don't want you to leave in the morning." you told him. Taking the bottle you place it in the sand after taking a swig from it and you place your arms around him and hold him close. Looking up you gaze into his eyes. "Can't you just... miss... your flight?" you asked him with a small pout on your lips. "Darlin' I wish I could. But I don't think they'd appreciate that very much. They'll come looking for me and then what are we going to do?" He looked over your face and pushed the hair from your face. Leaning in he kissed you sweetly, lovingly, yearning for that connection.

He never got close with people, but there was something about you that just really made him want to be close. Maybe it was your curves, maybe it was the way you spoke, the way you carried yourself. It could have been anything, but it was enough for this workaholic to stop and take notice of you, and to want to spend time with you. Especially like this.

Eventually, both of you find your way to the sitting in the sand, you're straddling his lap, your hands on his shoulders, and they move up to play at his hairline. You lean in and nuzzled into him. You nipped at his lips. Holding him close you run your nose along his jaw taking in his scent. Feeling his hands on your waist, moving up under your shirt.

Your breathing picked up a bit, and your skin was sensitive from the consumption of liquor. But you were of sound mind, you knew exactly what he was doing, what you were doing. Leaning in you kiss him deeply, and your tongue finds its way to dance with his, doing a sensual tango. You feel him getting excited under you, feeling the twitch of excitement. Letting out a jagged breath, you grind your hips against him. His hands find their way to your ass and gripped you and pull you closer to him.

He watches you for a brief moment, and there were no words spoken. He knew what you wanted, and boy did he want it too. He wet his lips slowly running his tongue over his lower lip and he moves his hands to strip the shirt from your figure, removing the bathing suit top with it. He tossed it to the side. Returning the loss of shirt with him as well, he turns both of you over, and the sand, warm from the heat of the sun from earlier that day caresses the curves of your back as you fall upon it.

Moving to stay between your legs, he gets on his knees and looks down at you. He wanted to admire you, he wanted to just look at you. He reaches forward and unties the cover-up skirt and your bikini bottoms opening them up to see all of you. The way the moonlight hits your body, he smiles, taking every curve in, taking each and every ounce of you in. Logging it in his memory bank.

Reaching forward you run your hand over his stomach, playing at his own curves of how his body worked against your fingers you smile into a giggle, and you bite your lip and you sit up, and reach forward and lower his swim trunks and look over him. He was beautiful, you thought of him the same way he thought of you.

Grabbing at his hips you bring him back to you, wanting to feel his weight against you, wanting to feel that warmth against you. You wanted to feel him. When he came to hover over you, he took your hands and placed them on his sides, as he leaned in and planted his lips against yours, kissing you deeply, yearning still. His member pressing against your swollen lower wanting eager lips.

The dewy wetness coated the underside of his hard member as he moved in such a way the tip of his member slipped into your eager hole. Licking his lips, he leaned in and kissed you deeply. As your hands gripped his sides, his forehead rested against yours and he let out a slow groan as you let out a heavy moan. How he felt, it was like you felt each and every vein, each and every groove of his cock against your lips, against your velvet, wet, warm, wanting walls.

As he thrusts you whimper and moan, and as he grunts and groans, the sounds of your bodies colliding was hidden and masked by the crashes of the waves on the shore.

His hands move to yours and he moves them above your head, his motions were loving, passionate, they were personal. This felt more personal than he could fathom. He was lost in this moment with you, his eyes locking with yours, your moans matched his. It was how you both moved.

Moving you both work together to find yourself on top of him. At first, you're laying against him, your hips moving against his member. Your breasts pressed against him, his hands dragging down your sides and after picking up some pace you move to your hands pressed into his chest as you begin to bounce on him, your head falling back as you press him into you, feeling him hit that back wall, that perfect spot found.

Rocking your hips your breasts bouncing, his hands cupping them, both of you let your moans be carried off by the wind. Carried out to sea finding the sirens of the deep as you both let out such a finishing moan you both tremble. The way that finish filled you was one you will never forget. That finish seemed to just come on so strong, and it was the way you moved together. The way your moans played off the waves it was an intoxicating tune of an echo that seemed to play on those waves for many clicks.

You move to lie next to him, your fingers play against his chest, no words exchanged, there were no need for words to be exchanged. But it was like you both couldn't keep your hands off each other. You didn't want to, he didn't want to. It was nothing but raw passion. Genuine and true. You couldn't keep your distance, feeling how he filled you again, and again.

Ring... Ring... He groans and checks his phone, damn near dead, he looks down at you, the sun just now coming up, he moves some hair behind your ear and leans in and kisses your cheek. He didn't want to wake you but he didn't want just leave you.

"Darlin, wake up, I've gotta go..." he whispers against your ear. "Mmm, please no..." you mutter. "I'm sorry... I wish I could stay. I'm sure we'll see each other soon." He says softly.

Shaking his head he came back from the memory and felt this tightness in his chest. Licking his lips he shoved his hands in his pants pocket and looked down at his feet a moment before turning and walking back to the car. He looks back over his shoulder to see what he thought was you, and an almost one-year-old child.... He tilted his head, but it couldn't be. Could it?

"Look at those waves Clementine."

170 notes · View notes

alicerosejensen · 1 year

Text

OK. I did it anyway! Finished the translation and tried as best he could. Part 3

I have a lot of debt, but I did it!

Good ending attached. If you like the bad ending of this story then please stop at 2 parts.

There's also a bit of angst here, a mention of smut.

I listened to a bunch of songs while writing this. In fact, there was a gigantic temptation to make Leon's girlfriend run away again, but I decided to fix the broken hearts of readers.

English is not my native language (I will write this as often as possible so that I don't get tomato thrown at me for mistakes). But I tried.

The text is quite large. I do not know if anyone has the strength to master it.

All efforts crumbled like a house of cards. All hopes that your relationship could still be saved were destroyed from the very day when you finally left, taking one suitcase with you.

For Leon, it was still an idiotic comedy that dragged on for a long time. He kept calling, texting, trying to talk to you about this misunderstanding. But you just cut him out of your life right away, without even giving him an attempt to explain everything.

But the comedy turned into a nightmare. Because Leon realized that you really left. A rather dirty game: to become the one who gave him peace and true love, and then in one second set fire to a small flowering island in his soul, leaving ashes behind.

Leon let you get too close to him. So close that he began to consider you his own. At some point, it even seemed to him that no one could love the way he loved you. But now you have turned the blue sky into black, discarding it as an unnecessary thing. Sometimes, stretching out his hand, lying on the bed, Leon woke up, thinking that since you are not around, then you are in the kitchen. You probably eat breakfast while looking at your phone.

But then he remembered.

You've gone. With tears, creating from his image a monster that hurt you throughout the relationship. You have done worse than Ada. It was a hundred times more painful. Leon knows it's crazy, but for just one night with you, he would give his life.

The only woman who has always been on his side. He wanted to feel the soft cotton of your gray T-shirt, but only your hands could be more gentle.

You have always been so pure that the world could be silenced by such innocence and angelic beauty. All the stars could go out if only something happened to you. You are a rare angel, in whose arms nothing hurts, who descended to him, to the last sinner, constantly fighting in an endless hell. Maybe someone decided that he received too much grace?

Leon would agree with that. But he's not ready to accept it. You said that you love him, despite the fact that he supposedly has feelings for Ada, and if he can convince you otherwise, then perhaps his beloved will return to him

But you didn't want to be in that cage. The whole situation with Leon, in your opinion, resembled the plot of Dolly Parton's song "Jolene", where Jolene is Ada Wong, whom you could beg not to take your lover. After all, as Jolene, Ada was the embodiment of an unearthly ideal. With a voice as soft as summer rain and with a smile like the breath of spring… Ha, you grinned remembering the words of the song.

What could you, a simple student, compare to this Ada-Jolene? Leon kept her compact in his bedside table and you still feel the reproach of envy that you will never become such a woman. You still cry when you think how many times he imagined an elusive mercenary in your place. But your happiness does not depend on Ada. You were able to find the strength to open the birdcage and run out to freedom, breathing in fresh air.

Leon used you. Crushed your heart into a piece of paper and threw it into the fire like the last scoundrel. But here you took out a burnt ember, intending to take care of it and already now you see that the first sprouts of trust in other men break into the light. However, love is not knocking at your door yet.

Because there is one huge problem: no matter how much pain Leon caused you, you want to leave him in your memories. Salty rivers of tears flow down your eyes almost every night, forcing you to curl up in the fetal position with your hands pressed to your chest when you read his messages. These are such ruthless blows that literally destroyed your soul. He's already traumatized you enough, so why doesn't he stop it already?!

The whole body and soul are screaming: help me! And the mind doesn't want to forget his fucking name and touch. You can't go back to Leon Scott Kennedy because he will bring nothing but evil. Say to yourself and remember forever: goodbye, my love for this man, because my heart can no longer bear this sick love.

You met in the spring and broke up in the spring. How much joy and sadness this time of year has brought you!

How much pain there is in the world, and all because of fucking love.

But for Leon it was completely different.

It was the middle of the day, when the sun was still high in the sky, promising to illuminate the streets with its light for at least another three or four hours. Late autumn time, Leon didn't want to get out of his mostly, alcohol-smelling apartment, but he had to write a report and hand it over to Hannigan, despite the overdue deadlines. To gather his thoughts a little for an answer, Leon went into a nice cafe, hiding from the strong wind, hoping that in addition to all kinds of desserts, he could order coffee to take away.

Ordinary strong coffee without sugar and hopes that it will not taste like bile.

The arrival of a new visitor was announced by a ringing bell, to the ringing of which the waiter immediately raised his head from his business. Leon was not going to linger, he walked past the tables with a few visitors until the familiar smell of women's perfume hit his nose.

And stopped.

He forgot about everything: Hannigan, the report, his job. About everything that brought him pain from your departure, because right now you were sitting with your back to him in a warm beige dress, holding a glass with some kind of drink with one hand and writing something in your notebook with the other pen, completely ignoring anyone.

All Leon wanted at this very second was to grab you in his arms and never let you go again.

How did this even happen? Why did you, loving him dearly, renounce him in an instant?

And yet your mere presence lifts him from the thorn-strewn earth. Only a meter separated you from each other, but Leon is already burning to the ground. It didn't matter if you were an angel or a demon, you were his love. His restless bird that flew away from him because it could. Because you believed he could still love another woman.

You look like two fools, each of whom believes in his own truth.

You were so serene, calm and nondescript to others. Strawberry ice cream almost melted from lack of your attention or you just didn't find it tasty enough to finish. Leon completely forgot why he came to this cafe. Illuminated by the evening sunlight, you looked like a work of art that you were so fond of.

A slight smile, careless strokes of a strange drawing in a notebook…you looked tired and a little thinner, but for him you remained the most beautiful. Aesthetic - Leon remembers that you like this word.

Did he have the right to disturb you? Like a mirage, Leon didn't want to scare away the one he loved because he knew if he touched you now, you would disappear again. Messages, calls - there were many of them and not one received a response.

If his love really brought you so much suffering, do you need it? Is he really that selfish? But now you tensed up, feeling someone else's gaze on your back, and as if small droplets of crystals began to beat anxiously against each other like wind music warning about who you are desperately trying to get out of your head.

But there was no soulful cry of "run."

You knew he was there. Behind. The heart did not stop with horror - it trembled with excitement. God, don't turn around! So much was lost because of Leon: dreams, hopes, trust, heart…

The palette of the endless emptiness of weekdays turned into slightly brighter colors.

Leon touched your shoulder and you shuddered lifting your head up. It was impossible to ignore this meeting and there was nowhere else to run. His touch was so welcome. The body responded to him by itself, trying to cling closer to feel the forgotten warmth. It was so good.

Suddenly you felt like a drug addict who received a long-awaited dose of the drug.

The purest buzz.

You still didn't say anything, just stared into those diamond eyes, completely losing yourself. By looking at it, you can experience all kinds of death. You wanted to finally surrender to him, submit and accept the inevitable, and then fall asleep in a tight embrace - all for the sake of the illusory hope of not being number 2.

What idiot said that time heals? There wasn't a night or a day when you didn't think about him.

You want to tell everyone to go to hell, and yourself first, because you're the last fool. A proud fool who can't live without him. Damn pride. Leon took a step forward, swallowing loudly, grabbing your shoulder with his other hand, but it didn't hurt. He looked at you as if he was afraid that you would melt into thin air.

You love each other very much, and each of you thinks that one of you does not love the other.

In an instant, everything collapsed in November. Leon knelt down, still squeezing your shoulders. Curse this month. He pressed you to him and you buried your face in his shoulder, inhaling the smell of a leather jacket and barely perceptible cologne. The stubble scratched the skin unpleasantly, but now these sensations were so pleasant.

If Leon doesn't disappear right now, it's going to be the worst month on the calendar. An unhappy month that will leave another stab wound. Your first true love and not a stupid infatuation…Whatever Carey says, it's impossible to forget Leon. There is no longer the strength to drown in it, grasping at a thin thread of feeling.

"Let's talk" - you're definitely a drug addict. His voice was like heroin causing euphoria. Rough and stringy at the same time. The infernal rejection started from him again.

The waiter's voice sounded like a soft soprano, and Leon reluctantly pulled away from you, but did not let go, as if he was afraid that you would jump up from your seat and run away, grabbing your coat. The lungs let out a heavy sigh, but you didn't want to talk to him. It was as if you were afraid that he would have words that would make you return to this anarchy of abnormal relationships. When he loves one woman and sleeps with a completely different one.

"I don't want to, go away," - you whispered, pushing him away with your palm. It was a terrible gesture. But you endured for a long time, accepting his lies, running after him like an obedient dog.

Love is not when it hurts you. And he mocks you and jokes, building those puppy dog eyes. He pretends that this separation is also hard for him. As if he wasn't a soulless being who took advantage of the trust of a girl in love with him.

But the idiotic heart keeps shouting to him, "Love me for a long, long time!" and Leon seems to hear him.

Leon grins, feeling butterflies flutter in his stomach. How many bridges can you burn?

But he strokes your head, runs his fingers through your hair.

"We'll just talk. Please stop ignoring me!"

"Stop foaming at the mouth to prove to me that the mysterious spy in red does not live in your head."

Keep your finger on the pulse and run. After paying for lunch, you grabbed your coat and walked briskly to the exit. And only when Leon caught up with you on the street, trying to stop you by grabbing your wrist, you turned into a scorpion who tried to escape using all his poison.

It's the same thing again.

"You're the worst thing that's ever happened in my life!"- that's what you finally shouted out to him along with all the other shit, but it was this phrase that killed him completely. The gaze seemed to read information from your face, as if checking it for truthfulness. The fucking detector gave out the truth.

"Someone like you never knew what love was. You know what's funny? To Ada Wong, you're just a puppet. A toy that she can play with whenever she wants, and then put it on the shelf and forget." - You poured out your burning poison, turning words into caustic acid to kill him once and for all, despite your tear-stained face. - "That's enough! I will never forgive you! Run after your elusive spy and leave me alone. I deserve to be happy. I'm already broken inside by your fucking love!"

It wasn't fair. You just tore him apart with those words. He's never even half loved you, he's never compared you to anyone! But nothing will bring you back to him. You will no longer illuminate his pitch darkness with your light. Leon really felt like a bastard who trampled on someone who loved him.

He stood there, looking after you, listening to your hysterical sobs, while you ran away again to lick the wounds inflicted. It seemed like you were about to fall to the ground and die from all this pain. All those months that you have not seen him, in no way helped you to stop loving this man. Because things have only gotten worse.

You wanted to lie down and die. Everything you were rebuilding exploded again, turning you into ruins. Ada Wong would never have allowed herself to do that. But the pain you felt became physical. Your head is spinning, the world has become so crazy and alien, sickeningly disgusting, because all the protective mechanisms of orgasm just fail you after all the continuous work. You just screamed from all the injustice that happened to you, and the name of this injustice was Leon S.Kennedy. The fucking bastard who caused you to fall into the mud, acting like an escaped lunatic.

"I hate you," - Leon heard it. The most terrible thing is that he realized that he was destroying you. Your body was experiencing physical pain - spasms, and you already needed professional help. And yet he cradled you like a baby in his arms until you fainted.

One thing you didn't have time to say: despite the fact that you were burning alive, your stupid little heart continues to seek salvation in Leon. It hurts her, but she calls him for help, begging for caring kisses and warm hugs.

What does it feel like to be a girl with a sensitive heart and a brave soul? The moment you discovered that he still loves Ada made you split into many pieces. Lying in a hospital bed, taking medications whose names you don't remember, you heard your mother's muffled crying and fell asleep under it, pulling the blanket over your shoulders, as if under a white noise. Your father stroked your head as if you were a child, slightly dulling the pain that was pounding in your chest.

"You will be sad and forget" - that's what your mother told you when she found out that the cause of the disease was a man. "You won't even remember that you once loved him there."

But you didn't want to forget him. You're so tired of falling asleep thinking about him… because even when you close your eyes like a phantom, you continue to see him. How can you live with this poison in your soul? Leon poisoned you and didn't even send you flowers, considering that he got you into the hospital because of him. And yet part of you was waiting for him to come.

Leon didn't come.

Nervous breakdown on the background of constant stress. Friends also came to find out about your well-being, but only Carey stayed for a long time, trying to pull you out of oblivion, which the brain could not cope with.

She didn't say a word about Leon, fearing that any mention of him would provoke a violent reaction again. Everyone kept saying that everything would be fine and you'd be coming home soon. Did you really feel a little better, but did you feel depressed just thinking about what would happen next? Your beloved friend disappeared as you wanted.

It is in vain to grieve about a failed relationship that was still beautiful, despite the subsequent horror.

"It was wonderful. Goodbye, Leon," you said to yourself when you found a little strength to admit that he is not a monster at all. Time is fleeting, and nothing lasts forever, and you are also unlucky to find happiness in this man.

Drive all thoughts of him away and remember that you are no longer the two of you. Find the strength to learn to live without him and suppressed the passionate feeling of rushing to him under the door banging on it with his fists.

Burn this brand on yourself.

In fact, even in the void can be cozy. When the day of discharge came, your father insisted that you come home again and recover a little from the experience. But you knew that if you came home, you would never erase Leon from your memory. If there was a record with his name on it, you would have listened to it until I broke it.

It's like you've been living in a dark paradise now. There are no medications for memory, but the ones that you started taking clearly muffle all feelings, allowing you to focus on studying. It was quiet and cold in this dark paradise because Leon wasn't there, but you still remembered how your pain-filled body fell to the floor. And yet there was one significant plus that allowed you to live - it was peaceful in this paradise.

And yet, as if you were a lost thing on the shelf, it did not leave you.

November is a really disgusting month. The whole world seemed to be turned upside down. There was the usual calmness with the absence of something important.

But then stability came.

You and Leon don't talk anymore. Apparently, what was said greatly influenced him, but the flowers in your soul still do not bloom. His love for you is still breathing and part of him knows that you love him, but he will prefer to give you a chance to forget him and all the memories associated with him, given how he hurt your soul.

He would like to stay in your life, but not after what he did.

Therefore, he was content with what was left to him. Polaroids from your vacation with him and memories…and some things that you forgot at his place. Meaningless little things, but he kept them. Everyone focused on their lives. You were riding with friends on a bike, exposing your face to the wind, hugging a friend. Leon is back from his work. And everyone missed the other.

But there is no desire to fall into this abyss anymore. Then it was time for healing, it seemed that the impossible was happening, but fate desperately liked to bring your roads together.

Your face is a real masterpiece against the background of daubs. Among the hundreds, Leon noticed you with your bestia when you were choosing some kind of gift, he looked at you from afar.

The cradle of his suffering… Leon feels like he is filled with love for you again, watching you laugh merrily after recovering from all the wounds that he inflicted on you. So cheerful… he had no right to be with you. With the people he values, something happens all the time, but this time he himself is the one who repeatedly stabbed in the back.

You never blamed Ada for your failure, only him, and it was deserved, because until the moment of your loss, Leon still found these meetings… more personal and intimate even if sex between them has not been for a long time. Just something else attracted him, but he would never let ordinary attraction destroy what he really loves.

However, that's exactly what he did. A stupid compact left somewhere in the corner of the bedside table, which he still had from China… you made the wrong conclusions by backing them up with that inappropriate message on his phone and it was still enough to leave him forever. But now you were laughing and it warmed Leon, how he wants to hear this sound again at home, along with numerous words of tenderness.

It was not worth looking at you for so long because some force pulling each other forced you to find this gaze from which you can die and rise again. Everything beautiful has remained very far away. None of you will say a simple "hello" to the other, and yet why are you silent like fools?

Thanks to the pills, all the senses were dulled a little, allowing a stupid thought to slip into your head - to talk to him.

The doctor prescribed you treatment: medications, rest and moderate physical activity, and somewhere between the lines he wrote in invisible ink "no Leon Kennedy." And you're drowning in this swamp again, violating all the doctor's orders. It doesn't hurt yet, but it's already scary to exhale if you stumble, fall into the water and have to start over.

These silent glances with each other… everyone is afraid to take an extra step, because everything can collapse. Leon doesn't want to be the cause of your tears, he's already brought enough shit to a dear person. Everything beautiful has remained very far away. None of you will say a simple "hello" to the other, and yet why are you silent like fools?

Thanks to the pills, all my senses were dulled a little, allowing a stupid thought to slip into my head - to talk to him. You said a lot to him that day, a lot of things he didn't really deserve, trapping him.

But only now are you wondering: did you notice any moments correctly or did you come up with a reason for leaving? After all, sometimes you could catch the scent of someone else's perfume on his clothes and still believe that there is only him and you. Maybe Ada marked it on purpose so that you could figure out who it really belongs to? What if it was her subtle sign for you?

"Stay away from my territory"

But there was another truth. Your bestie got distracted looking at some jewelry in the window when you watched Leon leave. Have you ever wondered who is a masochist God or is it you? It looks like it was you, because no god forced you to follow him. And Leon felt this persecution, which made him turn around when he saw your indecisive face.

You yourself took a step towards him, and the heart itself began to revive after a long hibernation. The truth is, you had no idea what to say.

It was you who wiped away his tears when he was in too much pain.

It was you who banished all his fears when he woke up in the middle of the night.

You were holding his hand. Not Ada.

"I'm sorry…" You nodded for some reason. - "I'm not… princess… this is a chance meeting. I didn't want to bother you, so you wouldn't think about me.

"I know." - Leon barely heard what you said to him, looking away from his eyes. "I'm sorry for what I said to you then.

"What?" - his reaction made your lips smile with a kind smile that he could not forget. Leon seemed really discouraged, but you just turned around to look at Carey to make sure she wouldn't go crazy when she saw who you were talking to. Definitely, it's all because of the pills.

"I said you were the worst thing that happened in my life, but that's not true. In fact, I only told you a lot because I wanted you to be as hurt as I was. However, I shouldn't have done that. You're a good man. I behaved terribly, like a naughty child."

Leon couldn't understand what had just happened to him. His pupils seemed to widen at the impossible words and your ridiculous apologies. After all, if anyone should be apologizing, it's him, because he drove you to a nervous breakdown. He shook his head, just in case checking to see if you were a figment of his imagination, but you were still standing there. Right in front of him. Was what was happening a prank?

Maybe it's karma?

"You don't have to apologize" - all Leon could squeeze out of himself and you just shrugged your shoulder for a long time without answering anything.

"I apologize for saying too much. It's my fault that I ended up in the hospital, not yours. But I'm not apologizing for that…" Ada's name stuck in throat.

"For leaving?" - Leon grinned when you silently agreed with him. - "At least you had the right to. I don't want to hurt you anymore. You've had enough of me already. "

He wanted to touch you. Just to touch your cheek or hand one last time. He didn't want to let you go, but he knew he couldn't keep around if you didn't want to. Leon snorts, trying to shake off this desire. What kind of kisses can we talk about if you don't love him? All hopes for at least some stability in his life burst like a balloon, and Leon himself held the needle in his hands.

"Thank you for your wonderful attitude!" - You shoot him again, saying these words, and Leon recoils from the one he was so eager to see. - "Even if we didn't succeed, I'm still grateful to you. The last few months have been difficult, but it's my own fault. You didn't promise me anything… I've had time to think. With this Ada, everything is much more complicated and longer for you than with me, and I probably didn't want to admit it to myself. I put on pink glasses and didn't want to see anything but pink shades. You didn't need my heart, and you told me about it at the very beginning, but that's how young she is…" - You laughed nervously, feeling that the effect of the pills seems to be starting to evaporate. - Someone has watched too many movies about love. Forgive me for these tantrums if you can."

Carey screamed loudly and you both turned around at her exclamation when she pulled you by the hand trying to take you away from this man. It even amused you a little, but something still pleased your poor soul more - you were able to admit to yourself that your fault was present in this breakup. Not just Leon.

Leon didn't have time to say a word, but it was in vain for him to be sad. You have forgiven him and yourself. It was the most important event that finally brought a bit of long-awaited relief.

There was only one thing you didn't want to understand, either the brain was using a dirty autosuggestion technique, or it was the pills that dorktor prescribed for you. but the point is this:

Kennedy needed your heart. He needed your love, because everything he had, he had already given to you.

He should have apologized, not you. He wanted to come to the hospital to pick you up, but changed his mind at the last moment, fearing that his presence would complicate the situation. And yet Leon followed you to the exit when Carey shouted at him not to dare approach.

It seems that this is the reason for your separation . The one who hammered into you the idiotic idea that you were his "meat for fucking".

But you are no longer running away from him, however, is it really necessary to break into an already destroyed world again, where he destroyed everything. Leon no longer leaves messages, does not call and does not look for a meeting, and you also began to live quietly feeling only constant fatigue and unwillingness to do anything. And it didn't work out with the guys, there were friends, but it didn't go beyond fun gatherings, even if they tried to flirt.

Looks like your heart still belongs to Leon. For him, it's probably a souvenir, and you have a hole in your chest.

Do you remember that bar where we met for the first time? Now, sitting at the same table, you're looking at the place where Leon was with some damn expensive bottle of whiskey. Without thinking about anything. You straightened your legs and just indulged in sweet memories that no longer caused any harm. It's a little sad, but you're still too young to be disappointed in yourself.

Previously, there was some kind of vigorous cocktail of disappointment, hatred, sadness and contempt inside, but now there is absolutely nothing. It's like you finally got a sobering slap in the face, returning to your former state and admitting that suffering is shit.

Was there any point in talking to Leon? He's probably already broken up with his feeble-minded girlfriend and now he's either found another one or is chasing Ada-their favorite cat-and-mouse game. Of course, he really has some part of your cosmetics left in his apartment, a favorite mug, maybe something else… oh! a notebook. What a stupid thing, because there was nothing important in this notebook except funny drawings and a list of products. Well, maybe something else in small things. Leon probably threw everything away a long time ago.

Although you would like to return the mug.

The mug that he gave you with an idiotic inscription.

You unlocked your phone and saw some excited messages from your father. After quickly answering them, you clicked on Leon's number. Just one click separated you. You could have texted or called, but you spat and just put the phone back in your pocket. It would be necessary to delete his number.

And he still has your damn expensive perfume. It is not like the one used by Ada Wong - her fragrance is dominated by fresh citrus notes combined with something cold. A grenade? You liked calmer floral scents. Lilac and gooseberry have a good aroma.

And you would have torn it off with your own hands. Because the bottle cost a lot of money, and was in a limited collection. For some reason, now you remember him and it became so insulting that you lost such an expensive thing (even if Kennedy bought it for you again). But it's still a damn stupid reason to look for a meeting with him!

In general, you should have been kicked out of his head too. Leon kept your things close on purpose but didn't touch them. One part of him hoped that you would remember them and come to pick them up, and the other party was afraid that then he would have nothing left. The last memories will be gone. He loved flipping through your notebook, finding funny the drawings you made while you were sitting at boring lectures.

He doesn't care, he knows that you liked this perfume, and he also knows that you can't afford such a luxury right now. It's a shitty act to look for a meeting with you again when all the dots are already set.

Even though he wants to see you, can he really let you go later?

However… he wants to write to you. Fingers are already typing a message when an alert with your number and a short phrase appears in front of the screen: Can I pick up some things?

Holy shit! YES!

Leon answered immediately. The usual "yes" despite the fact that everything inside was screaming. A couple of minutes later, another message came asking when you could do it and he wanted to answer in a sarcastic manner, what exactly is for you at any convenient time.

But the line came out the usual "when you want, then take it." Maybe it was a little rude.

Nothing else followed. Leon had no idea when to expect you. Apartment was in terrible condition. In addition, there was your wilted cactus on the computer table. Cactus. Wilted. Maybe because his hostess collected all the belongings and left forgetting him?

Leon didn't know how to take care of him at all. Just poured half-drunk water into a small flower pot, and that's it. The flower that grew on it has long disappeared, and the cactus itself has turned yellow. He turned the pot over in his hand, looking at it from all sides, wondering if it could be fixed somehow in a short time, but decided that if it really upset you, he would buy exactly the same one.

At least to make it up to you a little.

After about an hour of thinking, there was a quiet knock on the door. Leon, casting a cursory glance once again at the unfortunate cactus, let you into the apartment pretty quickly, but you stood there for a few more seconds as if you were afraid to enter the lion's den, which would certainly bite off your head if he crossed the threshold of the apartment.

"Hey," - Your hand waved nervously in the air as a greeting when you were here again, afraid of being captured by your own memories.

Leon only apologized for the mess (although he managed to clean up some things while you were just standing outside the door for about 30 minutes, gaining strength to knock) and offered you tea, knowing how much you love him. A great opportunity to find out what happened to your favorite mug, but you refused first of all by casting a glance at the withered plant.

"I watered him from time to time." He hesitated, scratching his head with his hand. - "Maybe he needed fertilizer, but I didn't know anything about it, especially since it's a cactus!.. Okay sweetheart, just let me buy you a new one or something.

Your laughter slightly diluted the gloomy atmosphere, and Leon clearly felt better.

"It's all right." - A small pot appeared in your hands with the intention of taking it and then throwing it away. - "To be honest, this guy has been sick for a long time. Eventually, he still fell to the death of the brave."

You smiled wearily, making some kind of hero out of a cactus, and your ex-boyfriend also picked up the cheerful mood, lowering his head as he leaned back against the bar, watching his angel take the last thing he had left from this relationship.

Leon compares this to the fact that you gave him the strongest and most beautiful wings when you agreed to be with him. Something truly pure and bright, which allowed him to fight with bioweapons, only for the sake of you and your kind. And now with relentless cruelty you are tearing these wings along with the spine. As the most severe punishment for a mistake.

You silently gather your things, trying not to let your hands shake as Leon watches your actions, fighting the urge to try to stop you again.

Inside, it feels like a guitar string is breaking or sad chords are playing in the soul. One sentence: All gone. You will be left behind, like another experienced chapter of his life, but the fact that the pages of this chapter were full of sincere joy only makes it worse.

Leon's eyes are on the lookout for anything that might help you change your mind. Turn the pages of the book of life a little back and rewrite the plot, correcting this misunderstanding. Although luck is not on his side again.

How to regain lost trust?

It was hardly possible. He could show you those messages from Ada, try to prove that the powder box has been in the trash for a long time, but would you believe him?

He called you by your name as you put the rest of your cosmetics in your bag, thinking that Leon didn't have anything particularly important from your things left. Of course, you turned around meeting with those eyes in which if you look for a long time you can drown, but now only Leon was choking of the two.

"You said then that I didn't promise you anything. it was true, I didn't really make any promises. No vows that I want a family, children and everything else that normal people have, since my work does not imply their presence." - Leon moved to a safe distance so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable. Unlike you, even when under stress, he was well oriented and adjusted to the situation, because your eyes were already watering. - "I don’t understand at all what you saw in me that you fell in love with so much, but it was not non-reciprocal. Maybe I didn't say much, but I meant it. These gifts, trips, dinners in restaurants..."

"In your words, I became like a gold digger who managed to find a rich fool." - You interrupted him with a loud squelching nose.

"What?... oh no! Fuck... I didn't mean it. I just know I screwed up. I have a whole carload of problems that I didn't want and don't want to involve you in. Ada - is in this carload . You are right, a lot connects me with her and the story is very long, but believe me, this is not at all what I really want. When I was 21, it was damn interesting. I was attracted to her for many years until that outbreak in Lanshiang. I won’t lie, we met not only on missions, but also after them; Ada has repeatedly saved and helped me; I will not lie and say that I have never had sex with her, but! There is a huge difference between the usual attraction to each other and really sincere feelings. And you were never fucking meat to me!" - Leon raised his voice, but not to hurt you. These crystal blue eyes resembling ice, no matter how paradoxical it may sound, could melt the heart of anyone. He was the one who could turn you into a puddle in seconds. - "From the moment you agreed to be with me, I had no relationship with Ada other than working. Even in my thoughts. We have our own style of communication - it's true. Flirting and banter, but when you showed up…I didn't need anything else."

"Nevertheless, you have loved her for more than ten years. It's not an attachment anymore, Leon. It's weird that I have to explain this to you." - There was no longer that stone in your chest that prevented you from speaking. You felt like a kind of abbess who reveals the truth to the boy standing in front of you (who was much older). - "We managed to get into all this dirt like this…"

"Was our relationship dirt for you?" - You looked up at him. You could clearly see the experience, pain and sadness. As if what happened broke him completely. Leon frowned, waiting for your long answer. - "I haven't always been open with you, and yes, you deserve a younger guy. Someone from your college or just a nice man your age. But you really were the best episode in my life, despite the fact that things weren't always smooth between us."

"It's not about me" - The lip gloss that you were restlessly twisting in your hands all this time finally fell out, rolling to Leon's feet, as if it was a sign to finally approach him, but you were afraid of getting burned again.- "Understand me… I want to be loved. For real. I'm not a fool either, although you probably think I am…"

"I never thought that about you. Naive, careless - yes. But you always had enough brains."

"Women like Ada Wong… -" you kept trying to ignore Leon's gaze. - "You can't get them out of your head. A kind of fatal beauty, capable of hitting any man to death. Such women have no rivals, and you do not consider it an insult, but she chose you, which means that you belong to her forever. However, you don't mind, do you? If I were you, I wouldn't be able to resist her either."

"Yes… - Leon smiled very unpleasantly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, throwing you your lip gloss, which you managed to catch and throw into a gym bag. - "Manipulation; constant concealment of information; a rather specific concept of "relationship". We've been lovers for a long time-I won't deny it, besides, it doesn't make sense. But I'm telling you the truth: you've become everything to me. As I could, I showed my love and care. Trust me, sweetheart , when you get into the same shit year after year, not knowing if you'll live to see the next day… well, it's a bit tedious. With Ada BEFORE YOU, I had some stability. The stability of our crazy meetings, yes, I had feelings. Until I realized that all this is fucking nonsense and it's not love at all, but an ordinary attachment to a person I've known for many years. And it was never love."

"More than ten years…" - Leon shook his head when you said those words one by one, slowly, as if savoring each. - "If you wanted to stop everything, you would stop it, but she is really a part of you that you will never let go. She occupies a big place in your heart, and I don't want to sit on the bench at all, so that during your next break you come to me. Don't you think it's unfair to me and my feelings?"

You trembled. The nerves began to give up again and the fingertips began to go numb, covered with a sticky cold sweat. Trying to listen to your own feeling, you only heard the frantic beating of your heart and the blood pounding in your ears. In some ways, it resembled a pre-fainting state. Part of you knew that Leon wouldn't do anything wrong, and the other part was terrified of the conversation going on.

You urgently needed to grab something to distract yourself. But most of the things were already in the bag.

On the other hand, it was hard to tell what Leon was thinking. His eyes focused on one point-you. A mixture of misunderstanding, irritation and bitterness in one bottle. He got the feeling that you were trying to convince him to believe your own lies, because during the time that you were together, Leon never gave a reason to think that there was someone third in his life.

But you felt something that you wanted to tell him against your better judgment for a long time. This is what you started falling asleep with when you first started suspecting him of cheating, despite the fact that it was very stupid.

"I thought my love was enough for you and me. I was ready to forgive you for the first mistake, Leon. I thought I could be irreplaceable for you, but now I realize that I'm not her equal."

"God, can you hear yourself?" - Leon ran his hand through his hair pulling it back, sincerely tired of explaining the same thing to you. As if you really were…blunt.

However, he didn't need to tell you, you yourself understood what he was thinking. And yes, it was stupid to come here again. You're really dumb.

"The conversation reached a dead end." - you continued to collect the rest of the things, once again capitulating to him.

"You're leading him to a dead end!" - Leon jumped up from his seat, shouting loudly at the top of his voice. You recoiled to the side, away from his formidable figure, next to which your own seemed very tiny. Your subconscious was still saying "don't be afraid," but your instincts were afraid of any violence. He could scream, he could hit… Leon never did this, it was the lowest act for him to hit another (unless circumstances require it), and disputes were generally resolved by ordinary conversation. You knew he could raise his voice, but Leon chose to leave before he reached boiling point. - "What else do I have to tell you to make you believe me?"

Your heart sank. But stand still. The commanding tone of the inner voice told you to resist, and apparently the small iron makings of your father's character were passed on to you. As a last resort, you quickly glanced towards the door, holding a bag in your hands, figuring out a plan in case of escape, and Leon noticed your strange behavior. Disappointed once again. In myself or maybe already in you? Do you really think he's such a monster?

"Why the fuck are you shaking so much?" - It wasn't funny anymore. Leon snatched the bag and threw it with all his might into a corner, not caring about the fragile contents. - "One big quarrel and I became the son of a bitch who beat you up or what? I'm not an angel, and with all my adoration, you're not a gift either! But did I hurt you at least once?!

"Yes!" - In a fit of emotion, you screamed, closing the distance with one big step. Leon chuckled. He meant physical pain, not mental pain. - "You hurt me. And it's still hard for me to live with this wound. I screwed up too. You know, I'm not the only loser here! And this is not a quarrel! You're a fucking jerk who still can't figure out his feelings. You didn't promise me shit, and it's my mistake that I came up with a big love for you ! But no one who has a conscience and respect for a partner will keep a compact of an ex-girlfriend and correspond with her in a joking manner. For some reason, my father does not allow himself to do this. No truly loving man will ever allow himself to do this! And instead of at least admitting the obvious, you convince me of something else! Tell me, Leon, if I did this to you, would you want to keep talking? Would you be able to trust me? "

"This shit has been lying there for a fucking cloud of time. I've already forgotten about her!"

Now both of you have switched to raised tones. You weren't scared anymore. The anger inside you was growing, erasing absolutely all the feelings that had been blunted before. Now you wanted to be fucking rude to him again, and that's probably what he liked about you. Leon even suspected that you would flare up like a match and be able to hit him.

"Forgot about the messages too?!"

"Fuck..." - It was unbearable to fight with you. Like a stubborn sheep who believed a stupid fool - his damn friend Carey. Leon pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened a message chat with Ada. There was no government information there, so he turned the screen to your face so that you could see what was written months earlier. But you didn't even look. Until Leon grabbed your wrist and put the smartphone in your hand. - "Look, read it since you're so sure that I still love Ada. It already seems to me that you are crazy about her".

Stubbornness was not always the best trait of your character, so you pressed the button on the side of the screen and just put the phone on the bedside table, making it clear that you would not stoop to such baseness to dig into other people's things. You also had a sense of your own worthiness.

"What happened?" - Leon croaked, taking a step forward. - "You wanted proof-I gave it to you."

"I don't want anything anymore Leon"

Only one thought was spinning in your head like a gear, "In vain. You shouldn't have come! Nobody got better from the fact that you disturbed this wound by reopening it." And yet you lied to yourself first of all. Leon's anger is caused by your disbelief, but even in a fit of the most terrible rage, he never did anything to you. Although you definitely felt uncomfortable from the tense atmosphere that had developed, where almost sparks were flying around the room, you still kept well with your arms crossed on your chest.

You needed Leon. You still wanted to love him and hugging a pillow at night you imagined that you were hugging him. But agreeing to be a fallback is also not in your style. There will still be a drop of pride for this.

So you just went to your bag, trying to pick it up to pick up the last belongings and leave, but Leon grabs your wrist. No pain. A firm grip is like a call to stop and give him a few more tries before he lets you go forever.

And you freeze, yielding to your instincts that purr sweetly from the slightest intimacy with this man. I wonder if Leon feels your pulse beating wildly? He lets go of your hand, biting his lower lip, and God, how you want to reach out to him to remember again what it's like to be his lover…

"So you came here just to break my heart again?" - his palms rested on your face, forcing you to look at him. For a second you suffocated drowning in the fragrance of his body and losing your mind looking into those eyes again. It's like they were pulling the soul out of you. - "Which of us is hurting the other more? First you reject me by running away for two months, then you pack up and say you never want to see me, but now you're coming back again… Of the two of us, who is the greater sadist?"

Your cheek pressed against his palm. A wave of heat spread throughout your body in small electrical discharges, as if you had taken a heavy intoxicating drug that turned you into clay in his hands. Leon pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes so that you could listen to the steady breathing and you were so waiting for the last kiss. At least a light touch of his lips…

Maybe in fact the main villain of this story was not Leon at all, but you yourself?

"I do not know," - somehow you whispered barely audible. Despite your closeness, you weren't sure Leon heard. -" I'm completely confused"

His bangs fell over your eyes, which made you smile a little.

"Do you want to leave?" - A question that made the body shudder with fright. As if you didn't want him to ask it to you, because an inner voice kept saying "no" and common sense began to doubt the correctness of the decisions made earlier. - "I don't want to let you go, but I can't forcibly hold you either. I really love you no matter what you think of yourself there, and it doesn't matter whether you believe me or not."

"I want to believe you but" - the voice trembled like a string. You lowered your gaze, trying to blink away the hateful tears despite the fact that Leon continued to hold your face.

"What?"

"I'm afraid." - you finally confessed, feeling a huge crack in your heart. Leon pressed you to his chest and you were grateful to him at that second because you no longer had the strength to control your emotions. - "I'm just afraid"

"My love? Or what?"

You didn't know what you were afraid of anymore. Leon pressed his cheek to the top of your head, holding the back of your head. Both of you didn't even notice how it started raining outside, creating an atmosphere of silence and loneliness. All that the soul craved was to stay standing like that for longer or even for an eternity. You feel his other hand on your waist, but you don't have the resolve to hug him back.

"It's not even about Ada, right?" - you didn't say anything. - "Do you really distrust me so much that you are ready to believe anyone but me?"

"You smelled of her perfume; you kept her things and never trusted me. I've always been away from you."

"Believe me angel, the shit that I constantly see haunts me almost every night and this is not what I want for you at all. Even if you begged me, I would never tell you about it. And about the rest…I have no idea what you smelled there."

Leon's words sounded like a final chord. No more excuses. Your body reflexively pressed against him, feeling the lost warmth of your native closeness, which caused the corners of Leon's lips to slightly rise up.

And in the end, you succumbed to the temptation of clasping his back with your trembling hands, covering your eyes from the fatigue of what is happening.

His lips touched your hair, and the noisy intake of breath that followed made him plunge into memories. It seemed like everything was covered in a misty haze, and your scent could make him lose his mind, even if it was for brief moments. The anxiety of a quick farewell enveloped the body, but there was something else… something that excites the mind regardless of temperature. A strange and at the same time precious emotion that has returned comfort to you two, affectionate behavior to each other, warmth of soul. This is something from the depths of the heart.

If Ada was a candle all this time, whose light illuminated a narrow space, then you were like the sun, whose warmth and beauty he missed so much. Leon realized that he was looking at a dazzling man with a huge sun inside, which dispelled all the darkness that had hung over him since the days of Raccoon City.

He knew he had no right to do that, and you could have pushed him away, but Leon wanted to feel your light one last time. Tearing you away from his shoulder so that the next moment he could press his lips to yours, memorizing your sweet taste. Like a rare nectar that can only be tasted once. A crushing kiss filled with belated remorse.

"Let this be my parting gift"

You're not annoyed or even angry. Whatever happens, you will always love him more than you should. So much time spent in vain to burn bittersweet feelings out of a stupid heart and stop following stupid emotions. Everything was absolutely in vain.

You pursed your lips when Leon started pulling away from you. As an avalanche hit a lonely wanderer, so you were dying at this second. leon believed that his love was hurting you and he is ready to step back so that you can heal, but the fact is that now you are at a crossroads again, not knowing the right way.

So maybe we should turn back?

You don't have an umbrella, just a thin jacket, and it's still raining mercilessly outside, as if someone is mourning the heavens. Drops trickle down the glass, and you wipe away your own tears, trying to listen to the footsteps behind you, but they are not there. A gigantic heaviness rolled over.

"It's stupid," you sobbed when you heard his voice, the one that cut you from the inside like a knife blade, forcing you to clench your teeth. - "I will never look for a meeting with you again, but still…stay with me."

"I..I can not…don't know" - Leon hugged you from behind again. Your voice was lost in hoarse sobs and if it weren't for his strong hands, your knees would hit the floor. It was as if the scenario of that day was repeating itself. - "I don't want to leave. I love you so much..."

You covered your mouth with your hand, unable to hold back your sobs any longer. It's just that emotions poured out in a flurry, turning you into a crying mess. However, the grip on your thin shoulders tightened when Leon turned you around to face him, holding you in a vice.

And your hand felt so good on his neck… Leon smiled as if he didn't want to know anything else in the world, starting to cover your tearful face with smudged kisses lingering on your lips and when you started answering all the barriers finally collapsed.

"So you'll stay." - no question. - "No more tears. No jealousy. You're here with me."

"Lee..on…" - with difficulty pronouncing his name, he burst into your mouth with a new kiss that stopped your breath. His tongue easily slid into your mouth intertwining with yours and you knew where to put yourself, allowing his hands to wander over your body.

"Either you leave now and never come back, or we send everything to hell and forget all the shit that happened to us. Choose now."

You were hanging around his neck, and to be honest, this really was your last chance to escape. It was only necessary to make a movement to the side, to pull away from him, but you stood still. One minute. Two… maybe the last two minutes of your sane thoughts.

You stayed, continuing to look into those sky-blue eyes, pressing your forehead against his, without interrupting eye contact. The person standing in front of you was irreplaceable, and now you would rather part with your life than agree to part with him.

Leon stroked your cheek with a funny peck on the lips, causing a sincere smile.

"Never dare to doubt me. Don't ever leave again. You and I will go somewhere far, far away from here. Let's drop everything and go to some house on the shore of the lake, where we will enjoy the tranquility and each other." - another kiss on the swollen nose. You just nodded, clinging to his T-shirt.

You've always been more of a vanilla girl, but Leon decided that rudeness would be superfluous. Not now and not tonight. He pulled off your clothes along with your underwear, throwing you on the soft bed that you already shared with him once and all you could think about was how he proved his love for you, holding you motionless in his arms, licking wet tracks from his cheeks. You didn't have the strength to fight him trying to take the initiative, the only thing you were thinking about was deep slow thrusts knocking moans out of your mouth. Leon was hugging you to him with great greed and a bit of fear, as if you could run away from him now. That's why he whispered soothing words and praise in your ear all the while tucking your hair back.

"I love you. You have no right to think otherwise. You're just my pretty girl, look at me, beautiful" - Leon threw you on the pillow, forcing you to open your eyes. Panting, you obeyed, wrapping your legs around his torso, pressing even closer to him, while Leon found your hand, twining your fingers together. - "I need you. You're my favorite girl, I love you so much. More than anything in the world, I value you, don't you dare leave me anymore, angel."

His smooth movements were maddening. Leaning over to you, he caught your lips pulling into a gentle kiss, but you immediately interrupted him leaning against his cheek like a petting cat, losing his head and blushing from vulgar pops and squelching sounds due to the abundance of lubricant.

"Don't leave me," - you freed your hands trying to straddle him, but Leon crossed your sad attempt pressing only harder to the mattress. - "I'm not leaving anymore, I swear. I'm so sorry… I've never wanted anyone more than you. Only you…my love…"

He was so gentle with you. There could be bruises from your closeness in some places, but you felt as good as ever in all the past months of separation. A loud moan escaped his lips when he plunged into you too deeply. His seed soiled your belly when he cum snuggling up to you.

You don't remember exactly when your sanity returned to you, but you definitely felt it when Leon, after the second round and long hugs with compliments, took you to the shower where he carefully washed off the traces of your intimacy with him, gently kissing and sucking every bruise left from his fingers, promising that he would take care of it in the morning.

You ran your fingers over his wet bangs, brushing it away from his eyes, which Leon used when he picked you up under the hips after taking a hot shower to take you back to his bed and let you rest.

Actually, the bed linen should have been changed too, but you two didn't care at all. Leon pulled you closer to him, laying you on his chest, hugging you with both hands, stopping any attempts to escape, but you were no longer planning to run anywhere. He fell asleep pretty quickly, and you lay motionless next to him for another hour, tormented by a feeling of hunger and thinking how you could get to the refrigerator without disturbing a light sleep. His shirt was left lying on the floor and with an awkward movement, as if deceiving a sleeping man with the desire to turn over, you carefully free yourself from the ring of embraces by getting out of bed. You take a cursory glance at Leon, making sure that he is still asleep and throw it on hastily without even buttoning his shirt, leaving the bedroom with light steps with the obvious intention of robbing his refrigerator.

Slowly and on tiptoe… wanting to have a snack at least with a sandwich, you realize when you open the door that a mouse has hanged itself in the refrigerator. Nothing particularly edible, and what Leon ate all this time, also remains a mystery.

Although it seems the cheese seemed quite usable. It's not too satisfying after a particularly sinful night, but you can last until morning. You already want to close the door when suddenly you realize with a sixth sense that someone is standing behind you, forcing you to freeze in place with a slice of cheese in your teeth.

But Leon just stroked your thighs laughing at the silent scene.

"I'm hungry" - That's the whole excuse. - "I'm sorry, but I won't fall asleep if I don't eat something…"

"I told you not to leave me anywhere." - It sounded harsh, but with obvious notes of playfulness, especially since Leon was clearly staring at your breasts. - "You could have asked me instead of running away again. God, stop eating that cheese. I don't want you to get poisoned!"

"Then feed me something or I'll starve to death. I definitely won't be able to return from the other world."

Leon took the fucking cheese out of your hands after enjoying this sweet conversation between two lovers and one hungry heart and threw you over his shoulder carrying you back to the bedroom, putting you back in his bed.

"And now you're lying or sitting in bed like the obedient girl you are while I bring us something to eat. If you are not in this place, blame yourself. You've already rubbed my nerves and yours enough, angel." - You nodded, still feeling the residual stress from the hysteria you experienced, but you were still smiling sweetly, hanging one leg over the edge of the bed, teasing Leon a little, who was getting dressed all this time. He noticed your stupid game and took a leather jacket from the closet on the way out of the bedroom tickled your heel, forcing you to hide it back under the blanket.

"You're staying here. So that when I come back, and it will be very soon, I will find you in this very place." - Notes of sadness and fatigue were still hovering in his eyes, so you didn't argue, but just agreed.

"I'll be here. It's raining outside anyway and I don't have an umbrella with me."

Leon flicked you on the nose, clearly not appreciating the joke. He didn't even ask what you wanted, even though he already knew about your taste preferences. Therefore, as soon as the door slammed shut, you quickly reached for your mobile phone, answering missed calls from your parents, explaining to them that you just dozed off and didn't hear the mobile. In general, you have found something to do by digging into your phone, checking messages and flipping through the news feed in the social network, thinking only about Leon and the food that he should bring soon.

It all still seemed unreal. You looked at the corner where your abandoned bag was left lying around, as if confirming reality. It's unlikely to be possible to pretend that nothing happened and Leon really looked too tired, but right now you didn't want to think about anything else except his return. Perhaps you have already suffered enough and you really should go on vacation together somewhere away from the hustle and bustle of the world? Leon will probably want to talk about this topic again with a fresher head when he calms down a little.

In the end, finding you sleeping in his bed was a really beautiful reality that he was afraid he had already lost. In his shirt, with pretty bare thighs, sleeping lightly on his pillow. Leon put the bag of food on the table, taking off his jacket just to hug you, proving to himself once again that this is really not a dream.

You really stayed with him and he won't let you leave anymore.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy x reader #reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x reader #re

162 notes · View notes

puppypuppypuppypuppy · 6 months

Note

How did your human spam and jevil meet?

OK. This took a while I had to scour the underground cave system of me and yashas dms to find all the relevant convos and such. I'll put them under a readmore bc. Yeah.

Also, the moment of first contact as depicted by the magnificent @naggingatlas

So, surrounding info: The au takes place in Hometown ofc. Eugene, after being released from jail (no murder here just manslaughter. he does tell ppl it was murder tho) has lived there for maybe like, 5 or 6 years (seam pulled some strings (hehe) to get him the place and peaced tf out) He's since been living as a hermit in the forest in this decrepit spooky house. He was once a prolific poet/philosopher/whatever and ig kind of still is? but he has a complicated relationship with his old work and resents how misinterpreted its been by the majority of his fans. His only real friend is dess. He's also a ukrainian immigrant, came to the us before the collapse of the soviet union. No desire to go back bc he had no attachments...

Meanwhile Esteban's deal is much more similar to canon... was once a big shot, the powers that be abandon him, he loses everything, now he's homeless, so it goes. He was once in a super bowl commercial with spuds mackenzie and is VERY proud of that fact, don't bring it up. At this point, h'ed been living in the streets of new york freakin city, too proud to go back home (el paso, texas, second generation mexican immigrant), getting by taking shady gigs and reselling garbage, scrap, old electronics, etc... One such gig being what brings him into hometown thus beginning our au. I've got some screencaps abt the gist of it all

(these are so funny bc some aspects of it get immediately retconned. also the reason I say he finds eugene familar is because they've technically "met" before multiple times in their lives just very informally. might go into that later idk)

(Here is where yashas images above the cut take place ^^)

(his door knocker is shaped like a dragon btw. very cool.)

(We wrote more of this encounter but frankly it's incomprehensible and this post is getting way too long just know that they're engaged in spamvil typical psychic warfare.) (it's like this.)

And thaaaat's basically it. Some details prone to change but overall this is how their first official meeting goes. Esteban comes by every day trying to sell shit but other things happen too like they go fishing, sit in a dusty abandoned car, smoke weed, eat cherries... .. ., lot's of fun stuff. Maybe I'll even make another post abt it if there's interest.

If you've read all of that have this in consolidation:

#stebjek #spamvil #sure.#this took way too long sorry... ill answer more asks soon but ill be sure to make them more brief

96 notes · View notes

cannibalovers · 3 months

Text

Hannibal song of the day : song no. 5

a bit about the song:

"Breezeblocks"(released in 2012) is song by alt-J, written by Thom Sonny Green, Gwilym Sainsbury, Gus Unger-Hamilton & Joe Newman(the whole group), most likely their most popular song. It starts off mellow and quiet guitar, interchanging between build ups and drops with synthesisers and a lot of deep bass, drums and other percussion instruments till the end of the song, which ends with an arrangement of overlapping vocals, like a choir. It fits genres like indie rock, indie pop, art rock and folktronica. The song itself tells a story of two lovers, where one of them wants to leave the relationship, feeling unsafe and unfulfilled but the other is obsessive and deranged and so in love that they don't let the other leave, the desire and love being so strong that they dare to hurt their lover and themselves just to make them stay. There can be another meaning to the song when taking the music video into the account(that the group themselves said is kind of different but managed to fit the vibe), which is filmed in reverse, presenting a narrative where a man kills a woman(maybe an ex or smth) who was most likely keeping his wife hostage. Since the chain of events is presented in reverse, it looks as if the man is the abusive lover trying to kill his wife, although by the end we find out he was actually defending his wife and killed the woman that kidnapped his wife, sending a message to not judge a book by its cover - don't assume and judge until you know the full story. It also references a book "Where the Wild Things Are" by Maurice Sendak, talking about a young boy who misbehaved badly at home and got scolded for it. His hostile and intense emotions sent him to an imaginary jungle with creatures called "The Wild Things". In this world, he feels appreciated and powerful as the wild things make him a king, but as soon as he realises the responsibilities a king has are hard, he wants to leave and go back home, to his loving mother who took care of him and coudl depend on, but the creatures don't want him to leave, threatening cannibalism (woah i wonder why I am writing this), saying "Oh, please don’t go! We’ll eat you whole! We love you so!". The band thought of it as a very powerful image and referenced these words in the song. In the end, the boy does manage to get away, unlike the lover of this song.

yeah sorry for the long intro to the song um. i've loved this song for years I swear I could listen to it forever so.

overall the song creates such a chilling mix between aggression and affection it's just so fucking insane and well. very hannigram. I think that was expected. Tbh i feel like it's prob known to fannibals, i made a post once asking ppl for song recommendations for hannibal and this song has shown up a few times and honestly? it fits them SO. WELL. especially when you think about the whole mizumono episode. The music video reminded me of mizumono a lot... so I'll be basing this on that episode a lot...

Pardon me for the pain i'm gonna provide today<3

------------------------------

Verse 1

"She may contain the urge to run away But hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks"

The girl doesn't want to be in the relationship with the man anymore, maybe recognizing that he is not in a good state of mind or she just believes they're not fit for each other anymore, whichever it is, she is contemplating getting out of the relationship, which she feels trapped in, or the man feels like he's scaring her away, hence her "running away"; He doesn't like this, being way too attached for her, he can't just let her run away after the comfort she brought him and the strong emotions he developed towards her, so he decided to weigh her down (literally) by drowning her with breezeblocks. Metaphorically, Breezeblocks are blocks used for building houses and are supposed to represent foundation here, so perhaps he has been making her stay by guilt tripping her about everything that they have built together and the fact that she can't just "leave behind" the trust, support, stability and safety that they have gained from each other - the foundation of their relationship. After she wasn't giving her idea of leaving up, he decided to actually weight her down with their foundation in forms of breezeblocks. In my eyes, the soggy clothes could also have a little bit of meaning, soggy clothes being quite uncomfortable and probably clinging to her(just like he does) - perhaps they're soggy from the times he was guilt tripping her, perhaps tears were shed and her clothes getting soggy just represent the manipulation and fakeness of them, or the severity of the situation and how long it has been going on and how this has affected her (made her feel heavy at heart and uncomfortable)

I think these lyrics summarise THE monologue in Mizumono and hannigram's plans quite perfectly. Will wanting to run away (from hannibal unfortunately...) and as Hannibal realised his plan of betrayal, reacted very aggressively by literally gutting him (sogging his clothes with blood ig) and breaking down the foundation they have built, more or so with words, but also the knife he uses. At this point I have no idea if its a linoleum knife (knife used for building, houses, rugs and FOUNDATIONS OF A BUILDING.) or a kerambit or smth else but I'll stick to the linoleum here(also check out this post about his choice for the knife, it drives me fucking insane) and say that this is how Hannibal tears down the foundation they have built together. Not only does he gut him, he talks to Will about how betrayed he feels that he was planning to leave him, after letting Will see him, after building this foundation of trust and support for each other. Hannibal was there, understanding Will and offering support and stability and he saw that Will could provide it for him back, which he chose to do only to get closer to him to betray him and take away his happiness (Will...) and stable, carefully crafted life he had. Will was something very important to Hannibal, a person that changed him and made him feel love for once, and then he lied about accepting him. He can't handle losing Will so he would make him stay and tear him down, hurt him, if that's what it would take.

"Cetirizine, your fever’s gripped me again Never kisses, all you ever send are fullstops (La la la la)"

Citrizine is a medicine used for fevers, suggesting the man is so obsessed with her that she makes him ill and stressed (overheated and overwhelmed and overthinking, hence the fever) and he needs medicine. She is constantly rejecting him, rejecting his affections and never giving any to him but instead stopping him, although it can also allude to texts, her not ending them with "xx" (kisses) but with full stops, being quite cold and distant with him.

well first, for the show it can allude to how Hannibal literally gave Will a fever and the amount of aspirin Will took cuz of that if we take this literally, but that mean the roles would have to switch so, instead in my eyes I think of how bothered and overwhelmed Will probably made Hannibal feel the more interested and obsessive he got over Will. I can't imagine how many times this man probably thought of him everyday and overthought stuff (jesus seriously hes obsessed) and how ill and diseased (although alive) Hannibal probably felt (maybe diseased and ill after he knew Will's plan...); the affections the girl is rejecting from her lover could represent how distant Will was with Hannibal at first.

"Do you know where the wild things go? They go along to take your honey (La la la la)"

This is a reference from the book "Where the Wild Things Are". The band suggested that the lyrics are about jealousy, the protagonist being jealous of other people who are catching his lovers attention instead of him, maybe this is a conversation between them about this concern, telling his lover that those people are bad and will use her and leave her(take away her honey); Maybe he's trying to convince her that he would never do that - although he technically is, eating away at whatever support and love(the honey) she has to offer for him.

I feel like this presents why Hannibal decided to isolate Will in the first place, taking away everything from him (or at least how he wants Will to see it, as we know that he was just trying to make his plan come true and return some of the things Will cared about so much). He saw everything that Will had interest in (Alana, Abigail, although he kept her for Will, Margot's child etc) as a threat to his plan of having Will all to himself and so he took them away - because he believed that they were both bad for Will but also because they were not in Hannibal's best interest. Also doesn't he like kill Will's wife in season 3 idk yet dont tell me

"Break down, now weep, build up breakfast Now let’s eat, my love, my love, love, love (La la la la)"

This probably references the many fights the couple had and protagonist's method of trying to make it up to her by trying to get back into a loving, normal routine, forgetting the fights, doing things such as letting her sleep it off and making a breakfast, starting the day over - The breakfast being his love for her. This is most likely to say that acts of service for her would be his love language and he would feel loved if she accepted his services, as well as offerings(his love) he makes for her.

for Hannibal:

do i like. have to explain this one

first of all lets be real cooking and making ppl commit accidental cannibalism is his love language (even better when they are aware of it and accept it knowingly so u dont have to make them commit accidental cannibalism to feel like u're normal for enjoying it and ure not a monster and God didn't punish u by making u eat ur own sister and enjoy it and that they accept and understand u for this and are def not doing it as a manipulation tactic to get u closer to them... that's not smth Will would do to Hannibal wdym)

------------------------------

Chorus

"Muscle to muscle and toe to toe The fear has gripped me, but here I go My heart sinks as I jump up Your hand grips hand as my eyes shut And I, ah-ah-ah-ah"

The chorus seems to depict the the physical fight going between the two lovers. The protagonist doesn't seem to be in his right mind as he says that even though the fear tried to stop him, he has lost control and is now hurting his loved one (or himself) - His fear of rejection making him not handle this situation well and taking the last leap of faith to "save" the relationship by physically forcing her into it. The harm can either be to himself or her, maybe threatenening suicide and her gripping his hand to stop him, or him hitting her and her trying to deflect his hand with her own.

For Hannibal, it's literally,,gutting Will. Or any physical fight or holding each other at gun point or any murder attempt they had. In mizumono, Hannibal is visibly heartbroken by Will's decisions, maybe regretting the choices hes about to take. Maybe for once he felt some fear hurting another person, the person being Will, but he pushes through it, knowing it had to be done, to show Will how he made him feel. The physical contact in this chorus could represent the hug that they shared (the most heartbreaking hug in tv history). His feelings seem to contrast with the violence in that scene so much it makes me so fucking depressed

------------------------------

Verse 2

"[...}She bruises, coughs, she splutters pistol shots Hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks"

The words have a violent imagery to them, maybe to show the lover fighting back and still not agreeing to stay, maybe even trying to hurt him, her words feeling like pistol shots to him, or it could represent her drowning, trying to catch a breath. If that's what is happening, then he tries to remind himself of his point and to not help her, because she will run away - it's better to hold her down and make her stay.

Will's most common weapons is a gun or his hands and words, so i guess it fits his image quite well(not to mention the amounts of time he held Hannibal at gun point lol). These clearly never seemed to have affected Hannibal (until the last supper) and he continues through with his plan of taking everything away from Will, showing what he has lost by not staying by Hannibal's side.

"She’s morphine, queen of my vaccine My love, my love, love, love (La la la la)"

The protagonist compares her to morphine, a drug used to help with pain - clearly he is very dependent on her and uses her for emotional stability and support, losing that would make him insecure and breakdown, he can't lose her after the vulnerability he shared with her. This also fits with the expression "Love is a drug", which to him, her love is clearly like a drug, he has become obsessed, needing her love all the time, addicted to her, suggesting the intensity of emotions she makes him feel and just how obsessed he is - that's why he can't let her go.

The contrast between the dark, violent and destructive comparisons he makes of her, ignoring those destructive feelings and calling her his "love" really deepens the juxtaposition between aggression and affection the song potrays and shows just how blind the protagonist is.

I feel like this fits Hannibal's feelings about Will quite well, considering how obsessed he is with him, to the point of destruction and isolating him to have him all to himself (and also the fact that my man was CRYING after putting Will in prison, missing their therapy sessions. LIKE BITCH). He really puts Will high up on a pedestal, suggesting just how important and addictive Will is to him and how dependent he has become on Will after opening up to him, maybe even feeling like Will numbs his pain and loneliness of never being accepted for who he actually was.

------------------------------

Verse 3

"[...]Germolene, disinfect the scene, my love, my love, love, love But please don't go, I love you so, my lovely"

This is the aftermath of the protagonist killing his lover. He realises that he killed her, getting an anticeptic(clearly unprepared for this and panicking, using some at-home antiseptic instead of something proper) to disinfect the scene off of his DNA. The realisation quickly hits him of what he has done, making him spiral into a breakdown as he realises that his actions didn't make her stay, they made her dead forever.

Hannibal clearly doesn't disinfect the scene in mizumono, he doesn't even wear his plastic suit or use the cloth that he always uses to not leave finger prints, there was no point in hiding anything anymore, Will helped FBI see through him, although we do see him "cleansing" himself off of the events by walking in the rain and trying to "comfort" Will, telling him to "wade into the quiet of the stream". I don't think these specific lyric apply to the situation much disinfection-wise, although it can represent Hannibal's state of mind, especially after realising everything he has done and the regret that came with it(does he feel guilty tho? i have no idea but the begging and love confessions in this line def represent his obsession and love for Will which left him very heartbroken after everything that was done)

also could represent Will........ him wanting to turn back, if he could only reverse time, undo the events so Abigail lives and everyone else lives..............ouch

------------------------------

Refrain

"Please don't go, please don't go I love you so, I love you so Please don't go, please don't go I love you so, I love you so Please break my heart (Hey!) Please don't go, please don't go I love you so, I love you so Please don't go, please don't go I love you so, I love you so Please break my heart[...]"

the most beautiful part of the song in my opinion tbh. The layers, the build up, the overlapping vocals, it's all just so overwhelming and emotional and vulnerable.

the protagonist spirals, realising what he has done but not wanting it to be true, he's not ready yet to let go of his lover, slowly, he's losing self control and giving into his violent desires, he threatens cannibalism if she goes away(she can't really do anything my dude...) as he frantically confessse to her that he loves her. He just loves her so much and needs her so much, the desire is so strong that he will consume her if it means that she stays right beside him(or inside him), craving that impossible closeness, it's a way to forever remain with a loved one. This whole refrain is just so incredibly contradicting and depressing and desparate its insane

now, it's no secret that Hannibal doesn't want to let Will go and even consume him. He wants him to live but at the same time he wants to taste him, devour him. To love is to consume, but to consume is to devour and transform in reusable energy. He wants him as close as possible and for Will to accept his desires and give himself up, let him be his - but clearly that's not what Will wanted (yet).

...This one is so straightfoward especially considering Hannibal that I don't even know what to say really. The song itself just says it all perfectly.

in conclusion they are fucking insane for this and breezeblocks is the ultimate hannigram (specifically mizumono) song. 11/10

------------------------------

additional notes:

was so excited for this one but i actually wrote less than i thought wow but maybe thats also cuz most of the song repeats. or im tired

idk if its cuz i literally dont know how to explain cannibalism as a metaphor of love or why but. at the same time the song just describes pretty well on its own

------------------------------

my playlist

hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading<3

38 notes · View notes

puckleberryfinnie · 3 months

Text

covey!reader in the quarter quell (opening ceremony!!)

read these first for this to make a bit more sense!

original idea post: click me!

introduction story: click me!

thank you to anyone who showed support in any way on the first introduction for this, it means a lot <33 there’s a lot of just reader content in this (mostly because I’m still working on doing a large amount of dialogue between characters), so if you want, you can skip to later down into this to find more interesting stuff!!

summary: reader goes through the opening ceremony process, meeting people along the way!! - reader meets a bunch of the characters! (Finnick, Johanna, Katniss and Peeta)

warnings: fem!reader, slight mention of ptsd?, alcohol, really bad writing (specifically dialogue)

“Get to know those new winners, the lovers. It’ll be good for your image,” she had said, pouring herself another cup. “It’s not lookin’ too good, kiddo. I’ll miss ya’, if I’m honest.”

Both of you knew your partner- the 50 year old, previous farmer, current jobless winner, would be no help to you. He’d made it known very early on that he hated you- hated the Covey as a whole, if we’re being honest. No amount of kindness, no amount of cheerful smiles could make this man like you. If he saw you in the games, he’d kill you. No hesitation, especially if it meant his chance at survival.

The predestined goodbyes made your heart ache, but in reality, they were better than none at all. Getting one last word in was something of importance to you, with anyone you loved. The games had forced you to realize the value of human life more than ever.

Those lovers, though. Katniss and Peeta- You’d have to understand them, before you arrived. Even if you couldn’t make it out alive, you’d like friends in your final moments. Someone to talk to. The last games had been filled with sleepless nights alone, humming melodies to the mockingbirds in the trees. “K-A-T-N-I-S-S,” typed slowly into your search engine device, one implanted into a high-tech table on the traveling train, headed for the Capital. Millions of articles popped up, lighting up the screen with bold titles, attached with colorful images. This Katniss girl, she was something different from the tributes you’d met. There was no determinable factor to it, she just had something about her that made you curious. You dismissed the thought, closing out the browser before turning your head, looking out the fast-moving train through the pristine, freshly cleaned windows.

It didn’t take too long for you to arrive at your all-too-familiar destination- the Capital buildings towering over you, providing shade for your short trip to the training/housing facility. There were people calling out your name as you walked along the gold paved path, asking you questions. All of them wanted to get the inside scoop on the nearly-dead, newly returned tributes, getting their last words before they reached the end of their life. You smiled, waved, said hello to the reporters before escaping them through the front doors of the tall building in front of you.

The outfits available to you for the opening ceremony were better this time around. Your stylist, bless her heart, knew nothing of Covey fashion, and struggled with finding something with farmy-like elements of District 11 while still reaching the level of luxury an event like this one required. This year’s selections were much better- she took the Covey’s bright colors, taking inspiration from patterns found in the little art markets that used to be found in District 11 and 12, tended to by Coveys looking for some extra money for dinner. You picked the one you found the most suitable for yourself, knowing you’d at least semi-match with your partner.

Exiting the building into an area close to the path for the ceremony, you saw many familiar tributes standing around. Johanna Mason. Finnick Odair. Beetee and sweet old Mags. Despite the screaming from the crowd who’d catched a glimmer of your appearance, you calmly walked towards your pair of horses, placed in front of District 12’s. Katniss was standing there, brushing her hand along her horse.

Walking up to Katniss wasn’t a problem- your mama raised you to be confident like that, knowing that’s the only way to live the Covey life. Smile raised, you prepared to give a classic Covey welcome, sure to draw anyone in!

“Katniss, right? Y/N L/N! I love the dress.”

Poor Katniss had been a bit frightened, not planning for anyone to approach her during this experience. She’d seen you before, though- in the games before hers. She’d remembered Prim saying something about her wanting to win the games like you had- no killing, no violence perpetrated on her part. It’d stuck with Katniss after her own games, knowing she’d played against her sisters ‘morality rules’ with her ever-lethal bow and arrow.

Haymitch had mentioned the girl, too- “she’s not much of a threat- that voice of hers is her only weapon when it comes down to it. But she’s smart- slick and sneaky in the arena. An ally like her would mean more sponsors (her adoring fans) and better hiding places.”

Before Katniss could even get in a word to you, a large arm was wrapped around your shoulders, making you tense up slightly before relaxing at the slight of the boy next to you. Finnick. Finnick Odair. You didn’t know him very well, but whenever you sang for those Capital parties, he’d make sure to send a compliment your way, sauntering off after talking for a moment.

“Now, what’re you girls talking about? Me, I’d suspect?” Finnick gave Katniss a nod before looking down at you, smirking.

“You wish, golden boy,” you laughed, taking a closer look at his ensemble of clothing (or lack thereof) for the evening. You turned back to Katniss, still very aware of the touch between you two.

Katniss gave a strange look to the two of you before saying “Yeah, definitely not talking about you… maybe that ridiculous outfit, though.”

“Ouch! I think it looks pretty nice, don’t you think, singer girl?”

“It’s alright, I guess. Not much to look at, though.” You answered.

“Oh, believe me, singer girl, there’s plenty to look at.” He winked, before walking off with a smile on his face.

You watched as he walked away, realizing what he was insinuating. You slowly turned back towards Katniss, shaking your head before resuming your conversation, the one left unattended when Finnick had blessed the girls with his presence. Now, however, a new person has joined your duo- Peeta. Peeta looked a lot kinder than Katniss, his overall aura more inviting.

“Anyways- I wanted to come meet you, given we’re the two newest winners.” You smiled before lowering your voice to a quiet whisper, leaning closer to the pair. “Covey has loved what you’ve done so far, with the movement and everything. I’ll help in any way I can.” Noticing the cameras pointed right towards you three from above you, you ended the conversation as quickly as possible with: “Well, thank you for your time! I better get to my ride before it leaves without me.” You waved before walking quickly to your place in line, fixing your outfit before getting ready in your pose.

The opening ceremony was the same as last year, for the most part. Not as much smiling, though. A lot more frowns and angry faces were found on the faces of tributes highlighted on the giant projector screen. You kept your smile, though. Smiling and waving is what you knew best. Before long, the event was over, and you found yourself heading to your assigned room. Considering your living space was the second highest floor (District 11 bonus!)taking an elevator was your most efficient mode of travel. There weren’t too many tributes left on ground floor level, most of them had found their way to their rooms at this point.

“Mind if I step in, Songbird?” Johanna Mason, leaning against the elevator door, smiling expectantly at you, waiting for an answer.

“No, no, I don’t mind. Come on in!”

Johanna strutted into the elevator, standing awfully close to you, both of your shoulders almost touching.”Thanks. Johanna, by the way.” She said, turning towards you.

“Lovely to meet you, I’m Y/N.”

“Oh, believe me, I know your name. I see you singing those songs of yours all the time. Pretty good, if you ask me.”

“Oh? Well, thank you! It’s… disappointing that my music will be going away pretty soon… with the games and all…”

“I think there’s some more song left in you, Songbird.’ Johanna sent a slight smile your way before stepping forward with the ding of the elevator. The doors open to her floor, and she steps out before turning around again, “Nice talk, Y/N. See you soon.” The doors close, leaving you alone in the elevator.

You fell asleep promptly after arriving in your room- the day had been quite tiring for you, and you needed to prepare for the next day ahead of you, too. You’d begin training tomorrow, and soon enough you’d have your all-too-stressful skill evaluations. And there always was the impending doom shadowing over every thought in the form of the start of the games, just a week away. As you drifted off, you thought of relationships you’d form in these next days, vital to keep your ever-falling spirits from reaching rock bottom.

ooo they’re flirting with youuuu

I hope you guys liked this little part of the story, let me know if you want more or want to be added to the tag list for this series <33 I’m soso sorry this took me so long, too!! I already have some parts of another chapter started, so it should come sooner!! hopefully my writing had improved just a little, I promise I’m trying <33

INBOX IS OPEN FOR REQUESTS OR CHATS <33

tag list (love you cutie patooties so much 💋💋)

@randomgurl2326

@marvelescvpe

love ya!!

#tbosas #the hunger games #finnick odair #finnick x reader #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason #the covey #catching fire #thg x reader #thg series #mean girls soundtrack has been in my head non stop #I kind of like the new version on crazy in love?#sexy is the best though #omg and pjo!!#love aryan so muchh

51 notes · View notes

elisysd · 9 months

Text

Physical - Dua Lipa

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

I don't wanna live another life 'Cause this one's pretty nice

Charles didn’t leave her side, refusing to go celebrate with the team or anyone for what mattered. He couldn’t, wouldn’t leave Lya, alone. Not anymore. And not certainly in a hospital that reminded him one of the worst moment of his life. Lya was sleeping peacefully and the only thing that could be heard was the regular “bip” from the monitoring machine, breaking the silence of the room. She looked so fragile, in her hospital gown and her being so pale. Charles gulped and let a tear fall. He realised he could have lost her. He had already lost so many people in his life; he couldn’t lose her too. It was unfathomable. She was his family, the one he longed to come home to whenever he was away. If something were to happen to her, he couldn’t get over it.

The white walls made him sick. This place made him sick. Too many dark memories were attached to it and seeing Lyanna there, he couldn’t help but think of his father. He shook his head trying to make the images of his dad go away. He was suffocating, as if an invisible hand was strangling him. And then he broke down. All the events of the day came rushing in. His dire need to gasp for air ended up waking up Lyanna who opened her tired eyes and looked straight at him.

“Charles… Oh my God, Charles, talk to me. Baby, please talk to me.”

She was fully awake. She was dying to stand up and take him in her arms to whisper sweet nothings to him but couldn’t because of everything her body was linked to.

“I can’t lose you, Lya. I can’t. It will break me. If the doctors find something…”

“They won’t find anything. I promise you they won’t.”

“You can’t promise. You don’t know that. I already lost Jules and my dad, I refuse to loose you too. You’re the love of my life. You’re the one I want to grow old with. I refuse to give up on that.”

“And we will grow old together. The doctors are just being careful, okay. Please don’t assume the worst.”

“I want to be strong Lyanna. For you. You need me to be strong.”

“I need you to be you. If you feel the need to break down, please let me be the shoulders you cry on. I don’ t need you to be the hero who will save the day. You can be the little lost boy with me. I want to see all your flaws and failures because it makes me love you more. Not less. Never less.”

Charles took his head in his hands and started to sob uncontrollably. Lyanna tried to scoot over to give him a little space that he took promptly. Carefully, he put his head on her chest, listening to her heart beating steadily. His hands reached for her as he tangled his legs between hers. Lyanna ran her hand through Charles's hair, doing her best to calm him down. She could feel his tears wetting her gown and against her will, a tear escaped her eye.

“I’m staying the night here. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“You can’t stay Charles, the nurses won’t be okay with that.”

“Watch me. I was shit scared today.”

“I’m sorry. Really. But you need to rest and prepare for Canada.”

“I’m not going. I’m staying here, making sure you are okay.”

“Don’t be stupid. You are going, you have a championship to win. And I’ll be fine, no more promo for me, no more shooting, plenty of time to rest and take care of me. I was thinking of a spa day with Carla and your mom. I promise you, I’ll be fine.”

“Fine.” he mumbled. “But you are coming with me for the European races and it’s not negotiable.”

She sighed and kissed his forehead. Charles shifted a little and got up delicately, making sure he was not hurting Lyanna in the process. Willy-nilly, he kissed her one last time , promising her to be there first thing tomorrow as she would go through a series of medical tests and he definitely didn’t want her to do this alone. And if he was honest with himself, he needed to personally make sure she was okay.

On his way back, he stopped at him mom. He was exhausted and needed the comfort of his mother arms. And he didn’t want to go back to his place without Lyanna. It was hurting him too much. His mother welcomed him with open arms and made him a cup of tea before he proceeded to explain to her what the doctor had said and shared his worries with her.

“Lya is strong Charles, I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

“I hope mom. Because if she isn’t…”

“Shut up. I only want positive thoughts, okay. For Lyanna.”

“I’m so scared mom, I’m just so, so scared.”

“I know, Charlie. I know.”

“It’s been years since you called me that way.”

“It’s been years since I’ve seen you this lost and sad.”

He ended up spending the night in his childhood bedroom and as promised as soon as visiting hours were up, he was in Lyanna’s room with a little bag full of pastries he managed to sneak in without the nurses noticing. Lyanna was already feeling a little bit better, she was not as pale as the day before even if she was still tired. She thanked Charles for the breakfast, complaining about how a glass of orange juice and a tea was simply not enough for her. They chatted for an hour or so before the nurse arrived to prepare her for the biopsy. Lyanna could see Charles gulped and offered him a reassuring smile.

“When will we know if she is okay?” he asked.

“It depends… I’d say, in a week or so but between us the doctor doesn’t suspect anything with her, it’s just a precaution. She is okay and will probably be discharged tomorrow or the day after.”

Charles nodded, feeling a little bit better. But he knew he would feel totally fine once they would have the results and Lyanna would be cleared completely.

And indeed, two days later, Lyanna was back home with a ton of medicines to take but she was better. She felt a little less tired and at least she could walk on her own. The following days, true to his words, Charles was not leaving her side to the point that it started to get on her nerves. That’s why one morning as Charles was packing for Canada, she called Carla to ask if she would like to go shopping with her. She needed to get out of the house and away for Charles and his constant needs to make sure she was okay. He treated her like a fragile thing unable to do anything. If she was listening to him she would have to stay in their bed all day, every day, and she just couldn’t and didn’t want to. That’s what she explained to Charles when expressed his concerns to her.

“I’m suffocating Charles. I love you, I’m so grateful that you have been there for me, you helped me so much but I need to breathe. And to be away from you a little bit, okay.”

“But if something happen to you….”

“Carla will be here. And if it makes you feel better, I text you when I find her and when I’m coming home, okay? But I really need to get out of here and you need to pack.”

“Fine…”

As soon as she found Carla at the shopping centre, Lyanna started to tell her all about how Charles was acting like she was made on paper.

“I love him, I truly do but he was such a pain in the ass. You know, I’m kind of glad he leaves tomorrow because that means that I’ll finally get some time for me. Does that make me selfish? Am I a bad girlfriend?”

“No you’re not, you’re human. But Charles was so scared. We all were. But Charles, it was on another level.”

“I know. Believe me I know, I feel bad enough… That’s why I needed to get out of the house and what’s better than a shopping therapy between girls to forget all about boys problems?”

“100% agree! Any ideas in mind?”

“Since I’ll be coming with him for the European races, I was thinking of finding new outfits especially for that. And we will be going to Wimbledon together so I definitely need to find something cute and dressy and chic for the occasion.”

“I like how you think, Lya.”

She came back late at night and as soon as she opened the door Charles rushed to her to check if she was okay.

“Charles! I’m good! You, on the other hand, need to sleep because you leave early tomorrow.”

“I know but I wanted to wait for you. Did you eat properly? Did you drink enough water? I can prepare you something really quick,if you need…”

“That’s a big no, you stay away from the stove. And I’m fine! I’m just tired.”

“I can give you an extra pillow if you want, so you get more comfortable and…”

“No Charles! I’m tired of you!” she exclaimed stopping Charles in his track.

There was a pause during which Charles looked at her, shocked.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to say it like this…”

“But you mean it.” he added with a sad look on his face.

“I… it’s just… How can I explain without looking like an ungrateful bitch? You’ve been amazing with me. Patient and thoughtful and all. But sometimes, you are too much. I get it, Charles. I know you’ve been scared but the truth is, I’m fine. You are not losing me; you’ll never lose me okay. You need to let your fears aside, I’m not going anywhere.” she explained as she sat down on the sofa taking his hands in hers and forcing him to sit next to her. “Here’s what we will do, I promise you to tell you whenever I feel even slightly sick okay?”

He nodded and put one arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him.

“I know I’ve been a little overprotective. I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m just scared but it stresses me out to still have to wait for your biopsy results and knowing that I probably won’t be there when you’ll get them… I don’t like it.” he confessed.

“What about this, I call you as soon as I receive them and then we can open them together.”

“I think it would make me feel better.”

“Then, it’s settled.”

She got her results the Thursday before the Canadian Grand Prix. As soon as she received the envelope from her doctor, she texted Charles who told her he would call her right after the press conference. When she received his call, he was in a corner near what seemed to be the public toilets.

“So, tell me.” He hurried her.

Slowly she opened the envelope and carefully read the letter.

“It’s negative, Charles.”

“Negative as in you are all good, no trace of cancer or anything?”

“No trace of cancer. I’m all good.”

“Thank God. I could cry.”

She laughed at his reaction. Truth is, she was relieved as well and as much as him.

“Stop it! We are acting dramatic over stupid medical exams, imagine when I’ll tell you that I’m expecting our first child.” she blurted out before gasping.

There was a long silence, a little awkward. They never had that talk, or at least it never had been serious. Of course they both wanted to spend their life together and Lyanna guessed that at some point it could mean having children, but nothing was planned. She didn’t know when she would be ready or if she would be one day. And Charles was focused on his career. There was no way, a child could fit in their life today.

“Yeah… but you’re not, right? Pregnant I mean.”

“No. No I’m not, I’m sorry I don’t know why I’ve said that.”

“No, don’t be. Uhm… I’ve got to go. I call you later, okay?”

It’s a Charles distraught that bumped into Pierre who was on his way back to the Alpine’s hospitality to get a coffee.

“Hey mate, you good?”

“I just had the weirdest conversation with Lya. She is good by the way, no cancer.”

“You must be relieved. It’s a good news. So, what happened?”

“She mentioned us having kids. It was totally out of nowhere and I wasn’t prepared. I might have told her that I had somewhere to go when in fact it’s just that I feel weird.”

“You want kids, though.”

“Yes, I do. And sooner rather than later.”

“Okay, perfect. And with her, right?”

“Of course with her!”

“So, where is the problem? I’m not following or maybe I missed something.”

“I don’t know where the problem is, Pierre! I don’t even know if there is a problem! That’s the problem!”

“Okay… stop freaking out. Get a grip, Charles.”

“I’m not freaking out! Or maybe a little. I don’t know. Do you think I’ll be a great dad?”

“You are amazing with kids, I’ve sen you around my nephews and nieces they love you.”

“But there is a difference between being good with your kids and being good with other people kids. What if my kid resents me because of my job? What if despite trying my best I fail them? What if I’m not making them proud. I want to be the superhero kind of dad, the one they brag about, you know. Not the one they are ashamed of.”

“Charles, you are overthinking it. And I think you have all the answers you need. The fact that you are asking these types of questions just show that you’ll be just good.”

“I don’t want to be just good. I want to be the best dad ever to them.”

From the other side of the Atlantic, Lyanna was freaking out as well, on the phone with her best friend.

“I’m stupid. I’m so stupid. Why did I ever mention kids? Like, I don’t even know where it comes from!”

“It comes from the fact that you have a boyfriend that you love very much and that is not just a random guy in your life, he is the one with who you want to spend your life with. It’s called growing up Lyanna.”

“When did you ever get that wise?”

“It seems like I grew up as well. No but seriously, it will be fine. Talk to him, face to face, I don’t think it’s a conversation to be held over the phone. I’m sure the poor guy is panicking as well.”

“Thank you for listening to my rambling.”

“I love you, you’re my best friend. My annoyingly cute best friend, almost my sister.”

“Shut up you’re going to make me cry!”

“Hormonal much, sweetie?” Emilie joked.

“I hate you!”

When they spoke on the phone later that day, both Lyanna and Charles were careful to avoid any mention of the previous conversation, even though both knew it was on their minds.

Charles scored another podium finish in Canada by taking P3, despite starting from P2, a result of wet weather oscillating between sun and rain and poor tyre management. He was happy to leave Canada, even though it was a track he loved, to finally be able to return to Europe and reunite with Lyanna. Charles didn’t really have the opportunity to enjoy is little time off as it was already time to prepare for Barcelona.

Him and Carlos, especially Carlos, were welcomed warmly by the crowd there, as Lyanna was staying a little on the side, letting Charles talk to his fans and enjoy the moment. She let him do his thing as she started to wander around the paddock, enjoying the sun on her face and the calm before the big rush of the Sunday. She was about to sit outside the Ferrari hospitality with a coffee and a good book when she heard two young girls squealed at her sight.

“Oh my God, oh my God, Lyanna! We are such big fans!”

Lyanna looked in their directions and waved at them. The two girls were wearing Ferrari merch and signed caps with the number 16 on them, making Lyanna smiled.

“Can you sign our caps as well. We already managed to have Charles autographs but we would love to have yours.”

“Yeah, sure. Do you have a sharpie or something? I was not expecting that to happen so I didn’t really come prepare.”

“Well, we did! We love you and Charles together, you are so cute and couple goals together.”

“Thank you! And we’re not goals, believe me. We are a normal couple with their own problems and disagreements sometimes.” she laughed as she was putting her signature next to Charles’.”

“And we are so excited for Flowers and Crown! Ferrari as well! Is Charles doing a cameo in it? There were some rumours online about it.”

“Well, at the risk of disappointing, no Charles in the movie. Between us, I think he is a terrible actor.” she confessed with a wink to the girls.

They chatted for a little while before the two girls leave to roam around the paddock, not without giving to Lyanna a big scrapbook for Charles that they didn’t have the time to give to him.

The weekend ended up with a double podium for Ferrari Charles getting P2 and saw Carlos’ win in his home race. It was a pretty emotional weekend for everyone but there was no time for them to recover as Austria was next.

Charles was pretty confident with the weekend and it was particularly relaxed that they entered the paddock ahead of qualifying. On their way to the hospitality they were both stopped by a journalist who wanted to get a few reactions from Charles.

“So Charles how do you feel about qualifying? And the weekend overall?”

“Pretty good, to be honest. We have the car and the performance and it’s a track where I always had good results. And I have my own personal lucky charm with me, so I’m not worried.”

Lyanna blushed and looked at him weirdly. It was the first time Charles was this open and public with their relationship. The journalist then looked at her.

“What it is like Lyanna, for you, to be there? How important it is?”

“It’s definitely an experience that I’ve never thought I would live that’s for sure. But there is something particularly impressive to watch Charles on track. I’m really proud of him.”

The journalist didn’t take up much more of their time and they both continue to walk to the garage.

“I’d almost said that watching you doing your job was particularly sexy. Thank God I stopped in time or the media team would have had damage control to do” she laughed.

“Sexy, uhm?” he whispered in her ear, her hand in his.

“Very sexy. This red racing suit does inexplicable things to my body.”

“I have a few minutes to spare, care to show me what it does to you?”

Charles ended up on pole right in front of Max. The Dutchman was the first one to congratulate him after the session as they were both headed out of the paddock. As Max started to talk to Charles and explained exactly what he thought went wrong in his performance and how he thought Charles was at the top of his form, Lyanna approached Kathryn, Max’s new girlfriend, after his split with Kelly a few months ago.

“Hey, I don’t think we’ve ever met, I’m Lyanna, Charles’s girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you. It’s my first Grand Prix, I didn’t know what to expect… it feels a little bit overwhelming.”

“I know what you feel. It’s not easy to manage with two men who attract a lot of attention. But if you ever need a friend here, I’ll be happy to be your. I know a few people as well that would be glad to meet you.”

“Thank you Lyanna. It means a lot.”

And then, it was finally time for Silverstone. Charles had never been the luckiest there but he was feeling on a roll, accumulating podiums and wins and beginning to slightly distance Max in the championship even though he had to be careful since Red Bull first driver was not that far, a mistake from Charles’ end he could easily make a come back. But the stars seemed to be aligned for once for Charles and he finished the race first. He was on roll and Lyanna could see that it was slowly getting to his head and he was cockier than usual, something Lyanna didn’t like very much.

Since Silverstone was once again the same week than Wimbledon, Charles and Pierre were invited and brought Kika and Lyanna along. Lyanna loved tennis, a sport she practised when she was younger and it was the first time that she was attending a game. It was the semi-final Alcaraz-Medvedev, two players that Lyanna loved. She loved and enjoyed every second of it, stressing out for the players, gasping and burying her head into Charles shoulder during moments of tension. She knew that pictures would circulate but she didn’t care, she was comfortable enough in her relationship to not be bothered about what people would think.

After the game, Pierre asked if anyone would be tempted to play to which Lyanna agreed happily. First they decided to make Lyanna play against Charles and Kika against Pierre. Charles was pretty confident he would win and what a surprise it was when she crunched him, winning by far.

“It’s not fair! I had the sun in my eyes and couldn’t see the ball.”

“You are a sore loser. Admit it, I played well.”

“You made me run from one side of the court to the other all the time! I’ve played nice with you.”

“I’ve never asked for you to do that! Finally a sport that I’m better than you! I’m not going to let you live it down!”

“Are you guys up to play double? Let’s say Lya and I against you and Kika.” Charles turned to Pierre who was laughing at something Kika had said.

This time Charles won and it made him really happy.

“I had the best partner to win!” he bragged putting one loose arm around Lya’s shoulders.

“So now, I’m a good player and it was not only luck? Interesting.”

The group continued to laugh together as they later decided to roam around the streets in London, enjoying Lyanna’s comments as she was showing them her favourite places. They spent a few days in the English capital enjoying the little break before Hungary where Ferrari was bringing a huge upgrade package. Unfortunately it didn’t work as well as expected. despite a start P3, Charles had to DNF rather quicky in the race due to a mechanical problem with the engine. It was a frustrated Charles that Lyanna met in is driver’s room.

“Charles, it’s okay. It can happen…”

“It’s not okay, Lyanna! I was fine, I was ahead of Max in the championship, I didn’t have to worry about anything, just to secure a top 5 to get a little bit more of a comfortable advance. But this fucking DNF is making me do a huge step backward! The upgrades were supposed to give us more pace and regularity! Not the other way around!”

“I know that I can’t understand what you feel but…”

“No, you can’t! You don’t know what it is like and you’ll never know! You are just there, looking pretty and cheering me on but you’re not useful in that type of situation, Lyanna.”

“Okay, now you’re mean.”

“I’m not mean! I’m just stating the truth and if you can’t handle it then you are free to go. I don’t need your pity, I don’t need you to try to comfort me when we both know that you know nothing about motorsport and you know nothing about why is it so important for me to win and to win with Ferrari. I can’t offer any mistake, the team either.” he angrily said while throwing his cap towards the door, where Lyanna was standing.

She flinched but did not move. Charles needed to get rid of his frustration and if it had to be on her, then so be it. She knew he didn’t mean anything he said. She preferred seeing him like that all worked up than seeing him keep things to himself and pretend everything was fine.

“Mistakes happen, and you are great enough to bounce back. You did it in the past, you will again.”

“I need to feel that the team is 100% focus and behind me. I can’t DNF for an issue that could have been seen prior and already fixed.”

He sat down the couch and took his head in his hands, sighing. Lyanna didn’t move, letting him process his thoughts on his own.

“I’m sorry, Lya.” he said after a moment. “I didn’t want to snap at you like that, you are not responsible.”

“It’s okay. Sure it was not pleasant but I know you by now. You didn’t mean it.” she sat down beside him putting her hand on his back and tracing small circles. She could feel him relax a bit. “I’m proud of you, no matter what, even if I don’t always understand everything I can see all the hard work and all the love you put in the team. It will pay off. I’m sure of it.”

“I've always thought that I was good at handling the pressure. But there is so much at stake.”

Lyanna could see him slowly breaking down as he was explaining to her all the reasons why he felt insecure about the championship.

“Of course, there is the outside pressure with the media, the fans and all… Of course I want to win for you, for my family and for everyone that believed in me at some point in my life. But, I think… I should I phrase that? I feel guilty and it’s eating me whole.”

She listened to him in silence, letting him process his thoughts and phrase them the way he wanted.

“I’ve never told you that but one of the last things I told my dad before he passed away was that I had secured a seat in F1. It was a lie. I lied to my dad on his death bed, Lya. What kind of son does it makes me? My mom was so mad at me. But my dad… he was so happy. So, so happy. Bu there is a part of me that feels guilty ever since. As if I had betrayed him somehow. It’s stupid I know, especially considering that I did end up in F1 and I’m here in Ferrari and I know that from wherever he is, he is proud. But I think, in order to feel completely in peace with myself, I need to win. It’s more that just a title and a pretty trophy for me, Lya. It’s about making things right.”

“Oh, Charles… come here” she said as she was seeing a tear rolling down his cheek. “It’s not stupid. But you have to let go of the guilt and the pain and remember why you race in the first place, why it makes you so happy. Why are you putting you through all of this, Charles? You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to but I just want you to think about it. I want you to step in the car happy and not guilty because you feel embodied by some sort of sacred mission. The trophy will be yours and yours only, not anyone else’s and certainly not ghosts’. You have to move forward and not let the past guide you. There are so many amazing things waiting for you.” “I know. You’re one of them. Thank you, I needed to hear that.”

==========================

author's note: Well... we are officialy three chapters away from the end. As usual, let me know your thoughts through the comments or ask box if your too shy. And don't forget to leave a like or reblog the story. It helps. And it lets me know that you like the story.

taglist @zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali @blueflorals @aundercover @ruleroftheuniverse @fangirlika @writerscurse @elijahmikaelsonbitch @leclerc13 @karmabyfernando @stargaryenx @pitlanebabe @boiohboii @reengard

#writing #charles leclerc #fiction #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc imagines #cl16 #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x oc #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

66 notes · View notes