#she was instantly charismatic to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

perlelune · 2 months

Text

Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | iii.

Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

“So what’s your deal?” Festus Creed asks out of the blue.

Your mouth opens in shock, a nervous laugh slipping out. “My deal?”

A mocking sneer twists his features. “Yeah, Coriolanus kept trying to get you to eat with us but you were being weird about it. If you hate us, just say so.”

While some snigger at the table, Coriolanus stares daggers at him. The mirth instantly vanishes from Festus’ face.

Clemensia bumps her elbow into his rib, chiding him, “Festus, come on,”

“I don’t…hate anyone,” you defend, your voice hardly above a whisper.

Clemensia flashes you a reassuring smile.

“Of course, you don’t. Coriolanus said you’re very sweet.”

Livia rolls her eyes.

“Ugh, whatever. Can we get back to discussing the Yuletide Ball?”

Surprise flutters through you. The name bears vague familiarity. It can be found in the archives detailing the history of the Capitol University. But it’d since long become a frivolity amidst concerns such as quelling the uprisings in the Districts. What’s a students’ dance in the face of war and famine?

“The Yuletide Ball? I thought this was an abolished tradition…I mean since the war.”

Excitement illuminates Livia’s face.

“We’re bringing back the tradition this year, thanks to Coriolanus here. He convinced the new dean.”

Coriolanus lowers his head in apparent humbleness.

“I just made a few good points and he couldn’t refuse me,” he shares. He turns to you, blue eyes sparkling. “I’m pretty persuasive when I need to be.” A chill dances through you at his low, suggestive tone.

To your relief, his attention switches to the rest of the table.

“It’s important to not let District scum ruin our way of life. Traditions must return.”

Livia smirks. “Spoken like a student body president.”

Coriolanus waves a dismissive hand but a hint of smugness lingers in his tone as he says, “Please, elections are only in a month.”

“And it’s obvious you’ll win,” Clemensia states.

He gives a light shrug.

“We shall see.”

Clemensia pivots to you.

“Ivy, Liv and I are on the Ball committee,” she preens, her face brightening. “You could join us if you want.”

You lick your lips. “I don’t know if I’d find the time with midterms coming up soon…”

Coriolanus’ fingertips graze your arm as he offers, “You should do it, angel. It’d be a good way to expand your social circle.”

“You mean her nonexistent circle,” Festus gibes.

The blond’s jaw clenches.

“Talk to her like that again and see what happens, Creed.”

Festus cowers, nervousness flickering on his face. He clears his throat.

“Sorry,” he says to you.

“It’s fine.”

Coriolanus’ fingers latch around your wrist as his steely gaze cuts into Festus.

“No, it’s not fine,” he articulates.

Undisturbed by the altercation between the boys, Clemensia prattles on about the ball.

“We meet up every Saturday morning. We’re working on winter-themed decorations right now. It’ll be so fun. It takes forever to do though.” She looks at you with emphasis. “An extra set of hands would be really welcome.”

“Clemensia…”

“Call me Clemmie,” she interrupts. “All my friends do.”

Friends? You study her hand clasped around yours. The concept is a little foreign to you. You also ponder why someone like Clemensia, with her perfect silky mane and smooth, blemish-free face would want to befriend you. She is the girl everyone gravitates towards. Charismatic, smart and nice to boot. And you might as well be a fly on a wall, ignored on the best days.

You are so stunned that it takes a shamefully long time for the words to fall back on your tongue.

“Clemmie, I’m usually busy on Saturday.”

“Oh.” She deflates, her hold on your hand loosening. “I get it. Sorry I asked.”

The excitement on her face plummets. Immediately, you feel terrible. You’ve never missed a single Saturday of studying, using that time to break down your more complicated courses of the week. But Clemmie looks crestfallen.

Perhaps, this one time, you can adjust your plans a little. One Saturday won’t make a difference in the entire year.

“But…I can try to free up some time,” you offer.

She perks up with your response.

“Great. We’ll be expecting you then.”

Lunch then proceeds, the table resuming the lively debate they were having before you showed up. Festus maintains facts about his family’s role in the reconstruction after the war while Clemensia rolls her eyes. They go back and forth and you observe them, slightly fascinated by the exchange. It’s such a rare occurrence for you to be around others that you soak every bit of their interaction. You get the inkling this happens a lot between them, them ruffling each other’s feathers. Ivy and Livia get wrapped in their own secret conversation you don’t catch a single word of. Meanwhile, Coriolanus watches all of them, taking a bite of the food on his plate every once in a while. The way he eats is slow, nonchalant, almost like he couldn’t care less what’s on his plate. Even if he doesn’t interject at any point, he looks right at home at this table. Unlike you. You recline into silence, letting every minute fly by as you wait for lunch to be over. When it finally is, relief surges inside you.

You mumble a quick goodbye and gather your things. Clemensia beams and waves at you while the others barely acknowledge your departure.

You head for the hallways, trying not to allow your mind to linger on the strange, uncomfortable lunch. Still, your mind swirls. You curse yourself for every blunder and awkward moment. You told him you don’t belong, that you’re an outsider, and always will be. It’s painfully obvious. From the way you dress, talk, carry yourself, you have nothing in common with girls like Clemensia or Livia. There’s a vast chasm between you and them. He should have listened. It astounds you that you even let yourself get roped into joining Clemensia’s committee thing. Though perhaps that won’t be too much of a hassle. You’ll show up to keep your word, then sink back into your rigid study routine.

Coriolanus’ deep voice, a sound you’re now oddly familiar with, erupts behind you.

“Let me carry those for you,” he says, swiping the books in your arms before you can protest. He falls in pace with you, a gentle expression decorating his handsome face.

You frown, the uncanny emptiness of your arms swelling your discomfort.

“You don’t have to-”

“I insist,” he interrupts, chuckling lightly when you try to reach for your books and he dodges you with ease. Your shoulders sag. Your strides hasten, an urgency limning your steps now.

Coriolanus meets no issue with your escalating cadence. He easily keeps up with you, a subtle hint of mirth lurking in his cobalt gaze.

“It wasn’t too much, was it?” he inquires. “I know they can be a lot but they’re all good people. I promise.”

A myriad of words weigh heavy on your tongue but you diplomatically swallow each, settling for a safe, innocuous remark.

“Clemmie was nice.”

The corners of the blond’s lips quirk skyward.

“I told you she was.”

The statement hovers between the two of you for a while. Clemensia seems nice indeed. The rest of his friend group…perhaps a little less so. Possibly a bit more cutthroat and self-absorbed. Though you surmise it is a requirement to be a member of Panem’s elite.

No other word is traded between you and him as you make your way to the lecture hall.

“This is me,” you announce.

You turn to Coriolanus, hands stretching towards your books. He makes no move to give them back. Your forehead creases.

He gives you a sluggish once-over before offering, “What if I drove you back home after your classes?”

You nibble your bottom lip, dismayed by his proposition. You’ve caught glimpses of his fancy new car, as you’re sure most have at the University. As heir apparent to the Plinth fortune, he gets to spend money as he likes.

“I usually walk. It’s okay.”

He gets a little closer. “Come on, angel. Just let me do something nice for you.”

You shrink until your back hits the wall, stunned when Coriolanus follows each of your steps.

“My last lecture is…Professor Bellweather tends to ramble,” you mumble, his proximity unnerving you. “I don’t…I don’t know when he’ll be done.”

He licks his lips.

“I’ll just wait for you, angel.”

He utters the words like it’s obvious. You gawk at him. It takes you a few minutes to retrieve your speech.

You scratch your arm, your frown accentuating.

“You really don’t have to. Like I said, walking home is fine.”

The gaze trained on your form sharpens.

“And I’m offering to take you home so you don’t have to exert yourself.” He bends over you, invading the already insufficient space between the two of you. “Has a friend never done something like that for you?”

“N-No,” you admit.

His tone’s heavy with suggestion as he rasps, “So let me be your first then, angel.”

Your heart stumbles inside your chest.

“I’m gonna be late for class,” you blurt out, attempting to brush past him.

Coriolanus’ hand darts out, swiftly cinching around your wrist to stop you from leaving.

“I still don’t have an answer,” Coriolanus says.

You glance from his hand, tight around your wrist, to his determined gaze. Your throat goes dry.

“Okay, you can d-drive me back home.”

He releases your wrist and returns your books, a smile ghosting over his lips.

“Wonderful. I’ll come get you later, angel.”

Clutching your books against your chest, you watch him glide away.

As promised, Coriolanus is waiting for you when you exit from your last class. You don’t even think to hide your shock as you find the blond leaning against the wall. A smirk unfans on his lips, your reaction seeming to amuse him.

He doesn’t say much to you as you walk side by side and head to his car. When you’re outside, he surprises you by opening the passenger door for you before you can even lift a hand.

“T-Thanks,” you stammer. You plop down on the plush seat. The leather smells new and expensive.

Your nerves thrum as he takes the driver’s seat and starts the car. You’ve never been alone in a car with a boy before. Uneasy, you let your eyes roam outside the window. The Capitol’s high buildings blur past you rapidly.

You’re lost in your thoughts when you notice the prickling sensation over your flesh, The burning, unwavering weight of Coriolanus Snow’s scrutiny.

Your head whirls.

Bashful words quake through your lips.

“Do I have something on my face?” Your hands reach to touch it, just in case.

He chuckles.

“No,” he replies, shrugging. “It’s a nice face that’s all.”

The casual compliment sends a wave of heat through your body.

“Can you drive?” he asks, curiosity lighting his features.

You shake your head. Getting your license has never been a priority. Besides, it’s only a thirty minute walk to get to the University. You don’t mind it, often using that time to sneak in some reading.

“No.”

“I could drive you if you like,” he offers, his gaze holding yours. “Anywhere you want to go.”

Your cheeks warm. “I’m okay.”

Coriolanus nods, his focus shifting back to the road.

“You always say that…” He hums low in his throat. “I’m just not sure I believe it, angel.”

You’re so nervous the entire drive that you don’t even notice when he arrives at your house. You stare at him, mouth agape. You haven’t given him a single instruction on how to get there.

“You know where I live?”

As he opens the door for you, Coriolanus simply replies, “You told me earlier.”

Your brows furrow. You don’t remember telling him but his tone harbors no doubt. You rummage through your brain, seeking the moment. Nothing comes up and you grow confused.

You blink up at him.

“I-I did?”

“Yes, you did, angel.” He snorts as if your line of questioning is beyond ludicrous. “How else would I know?” He slams the door of the car as you rise. “Besides…Dr. Gaul is my mentor. Of course, I know where she lives.”

You nod. That makes sense and it didn’t even occur to you.

“I…”

He cocks his head. “What?”

You fidget beneath his stare, discomfort flaring in the pit of your stomach.

“Nothing. Thanks for driving me home.”

He flashes you a wide smile.

“My pleasure. See you soon, angel.”

He starts the car and drives away. You don’t feel quite at ease until his car’s gone from view, heading towards the Corso.

Walter zooms across the room as soon as you enter the large apartment. Your eyes wander about. As usual, the place is empty besides you and Walter. Mother rarely spends any time here nowadays, her work occupying all of her time.

Walter rubs his furry head against your ankle, twirling around you as he meows. He then stands on his hind legs and starts gently raking his claws across your leg. A way for him to demand that you pet him. A small smile tugging your lips, you pick him up. The orange ball of fur purrs, curling against your chest as you carry him in your arms. You make your way to the kitchen and pour a mix of leftover meat and fish in his bowl.

You set him down on the floor. His tail wiggles as he hops to his food.

You crouch next to him.

“You wouldn’t believe what happened today, Walter,” you say while giving gentle pets to his back. “I was invited to their table.” The orange cat pauses his eating to stare up at you blankly. “Yes. Theirs,” you repeat as if he could understand you. He gives a long meow before focusing on his bowl again. You sigh. “I know. I thought the same thing.”

Once Walter’s emptied his bowl, you pick him up again and make your way to the living room.

You collapse on the couch.

“And then…Coriolanus Snow drove me home. Yes, the Coriolanus Snow. I didn’t even think he knew I existed.”

For a while, you remain on the couch, stroking Walter’s fur as he sits on your lap. His tail whips the air, his eyes closing as you pet him. His soft rumble of content reverberates against your belly, amplifying when your fingers drag behind his pointed white ears. You lean back, a blanket of peace settling over you.

Walter’s not just a strange-looking cat, he’s also a rescue…from your mother’s experiments. A kitten mutt with mismatched eyes, one blue and one yellow, his mushed, wrinkled face gives him a passing resemblance to a rodent. Pets like him are a rarity in today’s world as most creatures such as him were eaten during the First Rebellion.

Your mother finds him appalling. In her eyes, he is a failed experiment. Like you. Perhaps it’s why you have such kinship with the creature. You still recall her unsettling glance in your direction the day she asked the entire class of nine-year-olds at the Academy if they had pets they were sick of. She then proceeded to burn the flesh off a lab rat to demonstrate her pulsed energy laser.

This moment is burned into your mind forever, your mother’s clinical tone chilling your blood.

You stole Walter from the Citadel and took him home that same day.

You were careful to hide him, though you suspect your mother figured out what you did. She likely added it to her long list of disappointments when it comes to you.

Sometimes, you envy Walter. The simplicity his days hinge upon. His obliviousness to the woes of the world. His uncanny ability to sleep through the chaos of it, ignore the disarray. Walter’s world consists of food, play and cuddles.

What a blissful existence. You bet Walter never had a vexing thought in his short life.

The train of your thoughts is interrupted by the shrill ringing of the phone.

You carefully remove Walter from your lap. He meows in protest and jumps off the couch. You pick up the phone, chest clenching as a familiar face fills the flickering screen.

“Mother,” you greet. “How are you?”

She ignores your question, curtly stating, “You’re falling behind in Molecular Cell Biology.”

You know that tone all too well, the warning laced within it so achingly familiar.

Your fingers twist around the phone cord, your voice becoming small.

“I’ll get my grades up, I promise.”

Silence hovers between you and your mother for a while. Faint hope sparks within you. Perking up, you decide to tell her about your day.

“Oh, mother, today-”

“I must go,” she interrupts. “It’s time for my milk and cookies.”

Your spirits plummet. You nudge a hollow smile onto your face.

“Right. I didn’t realize,” you say, checking the clock hanging on the wall. “I’m sorry.”

She heaves out a deep sigh, her lone blue eye narrowing.

“Focus on your studies. And try not to be even more of an embarrassment to me than you already are.”

“Y-Yes, mother,” you reply, your heart shriveling inside your chest.

As she hangs up, you feel silly and horrible. Silly for trying to strike up a normal conversation with your mother. And horrible for letting her down once more.

“You came!” Clemensia exclaims as she rushes to you. You try not to tense as she gives you a tight hug. Ivy and Livia linger in the background, their eyes lifting from the crafts’ table.

You wave at them and are surprised when Ivy wiggles her fingers at you. Livia is more withdrawn, nodding to acknowledge your presence but quickly returning to her task.

You step out of Clemensia’s embrace and flash a quick smile.

“Well I promised you that I would,” you reply nonchalantly. You take a look around the room. Various decorations and posters are propped against the walls, while snowflakes cut-outs and what looks like moon dust are scattered on the table. It seems the girls have been busy.

You turn to Clemensia. “What’s the theme again?”

Ivy surprises you by answering cheerfully, “Well, it’ll be like a Winter daydream and we were thinking of making it a masquerade.”

Excitement sways in Clemensia’s bright eyes. “What do you think?”

“Sounds nice.” Your trite answer draws every gaze in the room to you. Awkwardly bouncing on your feet, you correct yourself, beaming at Clemensia. “I meant amazing.”

“I think so too,” she chimes.

She shows you the empty chair next to hers. The both of you sit down and she starts rambling about the theme and all the ideas she has to decorate the ballroom. You grow dizzy with all the information, trying to follow along her instructions at the same time.

“We’ll need to find you a date,” Clemensia says.

You shake the can of blue paint before spraying over the tree cut-out.

“It’s okay. I probably won’t be going anyway,” you respond absently.

The pencil in Livia’s hand snaps. Your head rises. The blonde’s gaping at you. You then realize…the same look of disbelief is etched on all the girls’ features. A frown mars your brow. Did you say something wrong? You didn’t realize this was such an important event.

A nervous laugh peals off Clemensia’s red-painted lips.

“No, but you have to,” she says, “It’s the first Yuletide Ball in over a decade. Everyone will be there.”

You shrug. “It’s four months away, Clemmie.”

Her onyx gaze shimmers.

“Well, a lot can happen in four months,” she sings, a mysterious smile spreading onto her lips.

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

438 notes · View notes

violet-butterflies · 9 months

Text

❥︎ yandere! Popular Girl

❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ Possessive, Obsessive, mentions of stalking and Blackmail, gxg ( female yandere! oc x female reader )

yandere! popular girl just moved into a new school and instantly rose up in the university hierarchy. Equipped with the perfect looks, money and charismatic personality, it was no mystery that a lot of people liked her. There were still a group of people that hated her for being a "whore" and a "pick me" but, honestly, it never bothered her. She knows her worth and she does not care about what other people had to say about her for choosing who to be friends with.

Despite all that, she found herself worrying about what you think of her. She first met you in one of her classes. This particular class didn't have that many students in it due to the fact that not a lot of people were very interested in it. Heck, she only joined it because one of her friends wanted to.

The two of you were paired together for a project. To be completely honest, you slightly groaned at the forced decision. You weren't really on the side that liked her. You heard from your friends about the rumors and allegations of how she did her work half-heartedly and of how she's slept with a huge majority of people so, deep down you were already preparing to basically do this project yourself.

But to your surprise, she was actually nice? She tried her hardest to help but struggled a bit because of how slow she was at understanding things but she actually wanted to communicate with you; which was better than a few people you've had worked with who stayed silent and made the atmosphere awkward. You hated to admit it but working with her was actually nice. You were even starting to wonder about why you decided to believe the rumors without actually meeting the person first.

Even so, you didn't really expect to get really close with her due to the complete imbalance and difference in both of your lives.

Yandere! popular girl actually wanted to be your friend though. She was a social butterfly so she really valued friendship. But, you were completely new to what she was used to. Most of her friends were over the top and extravagant in some way but you were, well, average.

"What are you thinking about babe?" yandere! popular girl's boyfriend asked her as the two were cuddling on the couch. yandere! popular girl's boyfriend was a few years older than her and was just starting to work as a pilot.

"Oh, um nothing. Just this girl I want to be friends with" she admitted before thinking to herself. Why was she thinking of you?

Eventually, you somehow became close with yandere! popular girl. You two would have lunch together or wait at a cafe somewhere before your classes. You even began to realize that she was hanging out with you more compared to the people she was really close with.

"(y/n) let's go to this new cafe! I saw on the internet that it's super cute!"

"(y/n) I wanna take you out on a little shopping trip! I bet you'd look super cute if I got to dress you up!"

"(y/n) wanna go to my house? I wanna show you this really cool makeup trick and I wanna try giving you a little makeover!"

Every single day of the week, you'd always had some sort of plan with yandere! popular girl. Because of how much you two were hanging out, you too were propelled up on the popularity board. You weren't exactly sure why but your friends began to stop talking to you ever since yandere! popular girl became your friend. Maybe they just hated that you were now friends with someone they weren't exactly fond of.

"Trust me! This party is gonna be fun! We're gonna have some fun! Plus you look so pretty in my clothes!" yandere! popular girl reassured as you two got out of the car.

The two of you then entered the very loud and crowded party hosted by one of yandere! popular girl's friends. You weren't sure if it was because of how good yandere! popular girl was at convincing people or if it was because you wanted to feel like you fit in with this completely new crowd but, you began drinking cups of the terrible beer. After a few more, you were a giggly drunk that was sprawled all over one of the couches.

"Hold on here (y/n)! I'm gonna go get something to eat! Don't go anywhere!" yandere! popular girl said before leaving you to get more chips. You only could give her a dumb smile as you began giggling at whatever you were thinking about.

"Hi there cutie... Aren't you really happy about something," a random guy came up to you minutes later. You gave him a drunken explanation before giggling again. The conversation was going well but, unbeknownst to the both of you, yandere! popular girl scowled at the sight.

How dare this random rando talk to my (y/n)?! And why are they getting along so well?!

yandere! popular girl then began stormed your way before pulling you to stand up.

"Oh sorry there! I think my girlfriend is really drunk and we're just gonna go now!" Yandere! popular girl said with a fake smile and a slightly passive-aggressive tone.

You then clung onto yandere! popular girl for support when you looked at her.

"Hehe, you're pretty even when you look mad" your drunk self complimented her. Yandere! popular girl's eyes widened as she looked at your flushed face and drunk smile.

Maybe she going to keep planning how she's going to dig through the rando's data to find anything she can use to ruin his life with later. It's not going to be pretty hard for an internet sleuth like yandere! popular girl. After all, why do you think your old friends stopped talking to you anyway?

#tw: yandere #yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #lovesick #tw: stalking #female yandere oc #female yandere x reader #female yandere #yandere popular girl #yandere popular girl x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #obsessive yandere #obsessive love #obssesive #yanderecore

938 notes · View notes

ovaryacted · 28 days

Note

(TW: talk of abuse/domestic violence)

I’ve been thinking about Leon and his daughter. I am 100% sure this man is not above using his ties to the government to wipe anyone who harms his daughter/abusive partner off the face of the earth.

His perfect baby girl comes to her daddy with a bruised eye and crying? She’s an adult, sure. But Oh he’s going scorched earth.

He kisses his precious little girl on the forehead, lets her sleep in in her old bedroom, and once she’s settled, he grabs his gun and goes.

I really REALLY do not think he’d let an abuser live. Someone put their hands on his little girl. His perfect little baby has gotten hurt by someone she trusted/loved?

Yea I don’t think they’d survive.

CW: mentions of abuse and domestic violence; talks of violence as payback; Leon & the reader are together and have a daughter (unspecified age but 21+)

Anon, this message made me hurt inside, and you sent it to me a while ago so I apologize for not responding until now. But wow, we're getting really angsty...damn. This hurts, but I get where this idea coming from. I think seeing something like his daughter being hurt because of someone else will actually break Leon as both a parent and an individual who puts his life on the line for his family.

Ever since his daughter was born into the world, Leon vowed to protect her with his entire being. He worked so hard to keep her safe from the dangers of the reality that he was all too familiar with, keeping his princess in bubble wrap and tucked away in the safety he knew he could provide. It worked for some time, watching her grow up into her own human being, as gentle and as precious as he imagined, practically his spitting image with his eyes down to his smile.

No matter how old she got, she will always be his little girl. Leon wanted to keep her at home for a while longer, nervous about sending her off to college but she reassures him, promising to call once a week and on the weekends to ease his anxieties. He knew she'd have to venture off into the real world eventually, and his daughter stuck to her promise, often coming back home on her breaks and using that time to catch up with her parents.

He thinks he's done well in raising her alongside you, smart and charismatic, doing everything to ensure his child grew up to know what love and acceptance felt like so she'd never have to be without it like he was.

When Leon was introduced to her current boyfriend, he tried hard to accept him, run his own mental background checks, and make sure he was enough to take care of his daughter and treat her the way she deserved. His daughter was happy, so he relented, giving this new guy a chance. So long as he saw his daughter smiling, all was right in the world.

That's why when Leon gets a phone call from his daughter sometime at midnight, he's confused, but the hair at the back of his neck raises as he gets a weird feeling that something is wrong.

"Hi dad", he hears her on the other line, her voice shaky and unstable.

"Sweetheart? Are you okay? What's wrong?", he gets up instantly and walks out of the bedroom so he doesn't wake you up, not wanting to bring a panic just yet.

"Yeah, I'm okay", he hears a sniffle, he knows she's lying, but he doesn't mention it. "I just...can I come home? Please?"

"Of course you can, you can always come home. Do you need me to pick you up?", Leon asks without hesitation. He didn't care if there was a tornado outside, he was going to get his child back home.

"It's okay, I can drive, traffic isn't too bad. I'll see you in a few okay?", she was hiding something from him, and if that were the case it must be bad. And that scared him.

"Sure thing honey, please be safe", she hung up the phone, the anxiety getting much worse because he didn't know what to expect. You wake up soon after that to ask what's wrong, and decide to wait for your daughter to come back home and make sure she's alright.

Was she safe? Did something happen? Why did it sound like she was crying? Did someone hurt her?

So many different scenarios play in his mind that the sound of a knock at Leon's front door brings him back to the present. Opening the door, he tries to hide the way his heart crack at the sight of his child standing in front of him with a bruised eye. He doesn't say anything as she drops the duffle bag she brought and instantly falls into his chest, crying heavily and shaking in his arms.

Sometime later on the couch, she explains how she got into an argument with her boyfriend, and in a fit of rage, he threw a punch before walking out of the apartment. Just hearing her retelling this and not being able to stop crying is what breaks Leon inside, having his daughter, whom he's tried so hard to protect from this world be a victim of abuse from someone who was supposed to love her hurts him greatly.

He blames himself for letting his daughter get hurt, for letting that bastard get anywhere near his angel and hurt her like this. Whispering apologies into his daughter's blonde hair, he cradled her close as he repeated "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry sweetheart".

Leon lets her stay in her old bedroom, tucking her into bed the way he used to when she was little and running his fingers through her hair as gently as he could. He knows you'll watch over her as she sleeps, and will probably slip into bed alongside her to hold her in your arms the way a mother should.

"I promise you, he's not going to hurt you ever again. I swear", Leon tells her, and his daughter believes him wholeheartedly. He gives you a knowing look as he walks out of the bedroom, and you don't try to stop him.

He takes his gun out from the locked safe in his closet, not sure when he last held it in his hand but the muscle memory quickly comes to him. Throwing on a jacket and grabbing his car keys, he got into his Jeep and headed on the road, gripping the steering wheel tightly until his knuckles were white. Maybe being on the road while he was seething and seeing red wasn't a good idea, but he had to handle this or he would never forgive himself.

A part of him thinks that he should get Hunnigan on the phone, should have her knock some sense into him, and tell his ass to turn the fuck around. But he doesn't, hitting the gas and imagining tearing off this man's head for laying a hand on the most precious thing he has in his life.

He doesn't remember the last time he was this pissed, and he certainly didn't know he could want to hurt someone when he had been so focused on saving others for most of his life. But he finds himself caring less and less about the consequences of his actions and doesn't feel guilty for wanting to do what he knows is necessary.

Justice is what Leon calls this, and it brings him back to his time studying for the police academy, how doing the right thing felt so fundamental to him that it was always a part of his character. He's doing this out of love, out of knowing his daughter will be safe from this monster, and that makes it right.

Yeah, that man better start praying, cause it might be the last time he gets to.

#ovaryacted asks #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #resident evil fic #resident evil drabble #resident evil headcanons #girl dad! leon #Leon protecting his bby girl forever and always #resident evil angst #ovaryacted drabbles

170 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 6 days

Text

Propaganda

Glynis Johns (Mary Poppins, The Court Jester)—LISTEN, I'd let that woman's voice with all its gravely hoarseness (positive) wash over me all goddamn day, but if that's not enough she managed to play the straight woman to Danny Kaye's jester, all with her cleavage so plunging it might as well have been catapulted into the ocean right after Basil Rathbone

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Glynis Johns:

She walks the line between sexy and cute. Her best role for me is in "The Court Jester as Maid Jean. She's fantastic as the soft but tough captain of the outlaw band and she looks stunning in every gown she wears throughout the film. And of course we can't forget her iconic turn as the suffragette mother, Mrs. Banks, in Mary Poppins! Also shoutout to her distinctive and beautiful voice, kind of smoky and husky. Extremely hot and set her apart from many of her peers."

"She was amazing in Mary Poppins (the Suffragette song is severely underrated) and apparently she was Welsh? National pride! And she advocated for arts funding in Wales, which is very cool. Also, she died recently (RIP) making her one of the last survivors of the Golden Age of Hollywood, according to Wikipedia. Also also, she just has a cheeky energy I like? And her eyes are beautiful!"

"She had this wonderful wit and charm to her no matter the role and the most distinctive, striking voice!"

"I mean, incredibly beautiful and talented, can do drama can do comedy. And she was a mermaid."

"Like Bette Davis she has eyes to die for. Unlike Bette Davis you felt comforted by them, even when she was batting her eyelashes at you. Would glady go to Downing Street with her and throw things at the Prime minister"

"Listen, listen. I was raised on Mary Poppins and "Votes for women! (step in time)" single-handedly taught me how to be a feminist. Also The Court Jester is one of my favourite movies of all time and she is UNBELIEVABLY gorgeous, charismatic, funny, and clever in it. She knocks several men out. Absolute icon."

"I love Glynis Johns. Most of the reason is The Court Jester where she's a sensible and capable foil to whatever what going on with Danny Kaye at the time. She was also the first star I based an OC on. An OC that I still have to this day! Anyway here have some YouTube links love u bye"

Mermaid clip:

Court Jester (sharing a bed trope):

youtube

Court Jester (seducing the king):

youtube

"VOTES FOR WOMEN! Well, votes for this woman. Please."

youtube

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist.

#eartha kitt #glynis johns #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4

250 notes · View notes

murderofcrow · 5 months

Text

Transcript of Will Ramos' essay on Sleep Token for Rock Sound magazine

I might play in a metal band as part of my job, but I don't listen to much metal music anymore.

A few years ago though, I remember one of my friends saying to me, "Dude, you've got to check out this band Sleep Token… They're pretty cool".

I'd never heard the name before, but I'd listened to 'Hypnosis' and a couple of other songs from the band's second album, 'This Place Will Become Your Tomb', to see what they were like.

Hitting play for the first time, I was caught off guard. You hear the guitar and these slamming instrumentals and instantly you think, 'This is about to fucking kick ass'. You're so sure that the vocalist is about to come in with some gnarly screaming, but then you hear this man singing, and he's singing so beautifully. I didn't see it coming at all, and as soon as I heard it, I knew that it was exactly what I needed to hear.

At the start of a long drive that I had to make on my own, I hit play on 'This Place Will Become Your Tomb' from the beginning for the first time. As the record began with 'Atlantic', I was vibing to the sound of the music, but as it rolled through each track I started to get more and more caught up in this incredible sonic journey. By the time it was over, I realised that I'd been on this emotional roller coaster of love, pain, happiness, sadness and nostalgia.

Boom, that was it - I was hooked on that album. Every single song on that record was so freaking incredible to me, and I needed to know more about Sleep Token. Believing that my friend and I were the only people in on this hype, I spoke about it to my band one day, and they said to me, "You need to listen to 'Sundowning'!" I was so mad that they knew about this band the whole time, and nobody ever told me, but I went back and listened to Sleep Token's first album like they suggested.

I remember thinking it was very different. It's not as polished, but it's very dynamic and so beautiful. I think it definitely says something when you can see the progression of a band from just their first and second albums. From then, I knew they were onto something incredible.

It feels like more and more people have been catching onto that hype over the last year, and now it seems as though their name is impossible to ignore. I remember when they released 'The Summoning' at the start of 2023, the day after they'd released 'Chokehold', it felt like it all went crazy. They had something like 4-million hits on that song in just two days, and now, it's got over 70-million plays on Spotify. It was the beginning of a huge explosion for Sleep Token, and the first time I heard it, I was genuinely confused by it. It's so ridiculously versatile, and on my first few listens I felt like the super jazzy outro didn't fit at all, but the more I listened the more it began to click. I remember at the time I showed it to Elizabeth Zharoff, a vocal coach from The Charismatic Voice, and the outro was immediately one of her favourite parts.

She's from a completely other world of music, so to hear her approval showed me how capable Sleep Token were of reaching people outside of the metal scene.

I might not listen to metal music anymore, but Sleep Token are revitalising heavy metal. It brings back the nostalgia that I felt when I was a little kid listening to this type of music for the first time and being like, 'Holy shit, what is this? This is so cool'. I had started to lose that feeling over the years, but every time I listen to these songs, all those emotions come flooding back. In my opinion, there's no band out there that sounds like them - and that's a truly impressive feat.

Merging metal with pop, R&B, and rap influences, and bridging all these different gaps that many artists have historically been afraid to explore, there's something here for so many types of music fans. For a long time, metal bands have been putting themselves in a box. There's been this idea that a metal band needs to be heavy, that you need to have a breakdown in every song, and that you need to tick all the boxes in order to succeed. It's been so refreshing to see the evolution of the genre over the last few years, and to see bands like Sleep Token bring all these different sounds to the forefront of metal.

It brings a whole bunch of unique people into the fold. People love to say that metal is dying, but it's music like this that keeps it alive. It doesn't just move the scene forward, it expands it.

Now, there are all these people who didn't listen to metal before listening to Sleep Token. R&B and pop fans are coming into this as fans of Vessel's singing voice and hearing all these metal influences along the way. The second verse of 'Take Me Back To Eden' has this great rap-inspired singing part, and it's these little things that speak to different people in different ways. All of this feeds into our community in some crazy way, shape, or form. It's welcoming people into a genre that they may never have been exposed to otherwise, and I think that s a beautiful thing.

As a vocalist, one thing in particular that draws me to Sleep Token is Vessel's voice. I have always been a screamer, but I've always wanted to be a singer at the same time. I always practise on the side of Lorna Shore, but in my mind I'm like, 'This isn't very good. My voice is not fit for metal at all, as far as singing goes'. When I first heard Sleep Token though, one of the first things I noticed was that Vessel and I have a very similar range. Hearing him lay down all of these incredible parts, it makes me realise that I can actually sing metal vocals.

Back when I first discovered them, I wanted to cover their songs in the hopes that more people would hear them. Now, I just want to cover them so that I can sing something that is in my range.

Obviously though, his voice is much more dynamic than mine because he's been polishing it for a very long time. He does a crazy vibrato and can switch between his head voice and chest voice super easily. It's crazy stuff, and as someone who has been a vocalist for so long, I can appreciate the techniques he's using. I love to hear the different ways he's able to blend his voice into the genre.

Another thing that makes his voice so unique is that it's so emotional. When I hear Vessel sing, I can truly feel the emotion behind his words. He might be this otherworldly figure singing about an ancient deity, but there's a distinct humanity to his vocals. You can sense his sadness and pain, and whether people realise it or not that draws a lot of people to Sleep Token's music. They're the band that you can listen to at two o'clock in the morning when you're driving down the road alone. They're the perfect companion for those moments where you're upset about something, and you just need to listen to something that feels like a release.

That's a beautiful thing, because when you write music, you want people to feel the same emotions that you're feeling when you're writing it. The way that Vessel translates all of that is so incredible, and it's arguably my favourite thing about the band. Between his vocals and the instrumentation behind them, you feel exactly what they want you to feel. Even before thinking about what I knew about Sleep Token, when we were thinking about what we wanted to do with Lorna Shore, that was the goal. We wanted to bring a little bit more emotion into heavy metal music, and now they've done that and brought the singing into it too. Metal's now even more emotional because of the way he uses his beautiful voice, and I think that's what this genre has needed for a long time.

The truth is, from the moment I first heard Sleep Token, I knew they were one of those bands. Between their studio quality, their musical skill, and their ability to conjure up their own lore to incorporate into the music, I could see that they had the potential to be something truly special, they just needed that little push.

As soon as they got that with 'The Summoning', that was it - they were taking over.

First impressions are a big thing, and I think 'This Place Will Become Your Tomb' will always be my favourite album because of the way I first connected with it, but 'Take Me Back To Eden' is phenomenal. They have been able to get all of their emotion out in so many new ways on those songs because there's even more happening from a musical perspective. They've managed to strike the balance between heaviness and beauty perfectly and that's what we strive to create with albums. The goal is to create an album you can sit with, front to back, and feel the waves of emotion. A record to let yourself feel those things, and an opportunity to sit in isolation whilst you experience that journey.

It's a feeling that's amplified within Sleep Token's live shows, and I was able to catch them at Blue Ridge Rock Festival in Virginia. Lorna Shore were also playing, and we had a meet and greet scheduled for that day. It was scheduled to take place from 7pm until 7:30pm, and Sleep Token's set started at 7:30pm. I was a little antsy, because I know that meet and greets always overrun by half an hour or so, and they were the band I was most desperate to catch.

I was sitting there, it was 7:29pm, and the meet and greet line was still as long as it had been when we'd started. I started to hear 'Chokehold' playing in the distance, and I felt so sad.

People online were messaging me to tell me that Sleep Token were playing, and I was like, 'I know! I can hear them, but I'm stuck here!'

That's where it started to set in how freaking massive Sleep Token were becoming. They're one of the biggest metal bands that I'm aware of right now, and there were so many people watching that set. They refer to their live shows as rituals, their fans are the congregation, and the stage as a place of worship. It's something that could easily seem tacky if a band did it with little consideration for the details, but they're so committed to what they do.

After about three minutes, as I heard 'Chokehold' coming to an end, I stood up and said, 'Alright everybody, I've got to go. I'm so sorry, but if you know me, you'll understand'. The people who come to our meet and greets know how much I love Sleep Token, so they were like, 'Dude, go!' I sprinted out of there, leaving the rest of the band still doing the meet and greet, and made my way over to the stage. I thought I was the only one who wanted to see their set, but ten seconds into running I turned around and saw Of Mice & Men's singer, Aaron Pauley, following me. We started running through this huge crowd together, and everybody was so excited. I'm not the type of guy to leave a meet and greet early, but I needed to witness that set. It was an act of true love!

Even when they post on Instagram after shows, the captions are always like, 'The ritual has been completed in Copenhagen'. They totally absorb themselves in the spiritual aspect, physically, visually, and sonically. It's a brand, and they completely own that brand. They've made it exactly what it is, and they stick to it.

When I saw them, they had four people onstage doing harmonies with them, and they just stood there in their cloaks.

They didn't move throughout the entire set, and I began to picture it as a church choir at the side of the ritual. The whole experience does feel super spiritual, and they don't just give 50 per cent to the theming, it's 100 per cent. People feel the emotion, see the way they embody this ideal, and hear this incredible music - and I think that's why people are so ready to absolve themselves in this spiritual moment.

Everybody has a different connection to every song because of the different things everyone goes through in life, but they get to experience all of that in a place where everybody else is feeling something too.

Vessel's vocals translate into their live experience so perfectly, too. His screams are even better live than they are in the studio, and he still sings beautifully, which is so impressive. I was genuinely doubtful that he was going to be able to hit all of those vibratos and do all the other crazy vocal work he does on the albums, but he hit every note. Sometimes, he doesn't even hit the notes that he does on the studio versions, but he hits another note that is equally as stunning. He's a true performer.

You can tell a lot about a band from their live performance, but as a band in the modern age you also have to put a lot of thought into your promotion. The way you come across on social media is important, and the way that people perceive you is largely down to how you come across online. That's why I've always been fascinated by Sleep Token choosing to keep the identities of their band members a secret, refusing to do interviews and placing the focus on their visual identity.

I definitely think that's played a part in their success, because it's allowed the music to take centre stage. I remember when I was first talking to the rest of Lorna Shore about Sleep Token, they told me about the lore behind the band and that the members are all anonymous. That was before 'The Summoning' came out, but since people have caught on there have been some serious investigative deep dives, so l'm pretty sure the internet has found out who Vessel is.

I didn't look that up though, because personally for me, I always really appreciated the fact that they were totally anonymous. I like the feeling that Vessel is just a voice in the ether. You can hear it, but you can't classify it as being the voice of any one person, it's just this intriguing mystery. I've heard a lot of people say that it reminds them of when they first got into Slipknot because when a lot of people I know first listened to that band, nobody knew who was behind the masks. They were just a bunch of dudes making music with no outside perceptions, but then obviously people found out. I think that Sleep Token have that similar allure for a whole new generation, but sadly for me that mystery was shattered when I met them after a show.

It was great to meet them, but I also really didn't want to know who they were. I loved not knowing and I think that the anonymous aspect of what they do plays such an important role in the impact they're having on the heavy metal world.

It's a bit of a double-edged sword because everyone wants to know their identities, but once you do know - you miss the anonymity.

There's something special about the way they're putting their music out into the world with no need for individual validation, and I think it takes a lot of guts and confidence in what you're creating to do what Sleep Token are doing.

Usually, you almost want everyone to know who's in the band, because often that helps push you forwards. If you have someone in your line-up who's been in a well-known band before, you want to use that name to get yourselves out into the scene more. Sleep Token aren't anybody, and that takes a lot of courage and humbleness to do. There's no predisposed idea of what their music is supposed to be or what it's going to be, and that's part of the magic.

It's something that also comes out in the lore, the symbolism, and the cryptic clues that Sleep Token scatter throughout everything they do. There are Reddit threads dissecting every single word in the songs and analysing each pixel within their visuals, but it's not something I've had the chance to fall into just yet.

When I first listened to 'This Place Will Become Your Tomb', I could only find one or two articles about Sleep Token online.

They were basic articles explaining the idea of the band and what they were trying to do, which I thought were cool, but I never really looked it up again.

Over the last year or so, it seems that these conversations have spiralled. People are coming up with these different ideas about the band's story, and there are all these hints appearing constantly. I don't know any of the Easter eggs yet. I'm still just fascinated by the music and their wicked aesthetics, but I love that they've got people talking. It's become this kind of community around the band, and as someone who grew up in this scene, seeing artists who are able to foster that feeling amongst fellow music fans is such an incredible thing.

I think that's one of the reasons why Sleep Token have been able to find success on such a wide level so quickly, because there's a constant conversation about them. If people aren't talking about their music, they're talking about the lore and the stories behind it, or they're talking about the potential identities of the band members. They have this perfect package in place that lends itself to a world class metal band, but they're achieving it at such an incredible speed.

They thought out every single element of this band before they even started, from how the melodies work with the vocals, to the emotion and the quality of the sound. A lot of people put out music that sounds like they're hitting a trash can, and whilst they might have really good singing over the top of it, you can't ignore that trash can. Sleep Token have got incredible production value though, which is even more impressive when you consider how versatile their sound is.

It's so well thought out that you hear new things in each song on every listen. If you listen to 'Take Me Back To Eden', the title track of their third album, there's an allusion to a particular part of 'Chokehold', and it's details like that which make their production so unique. They wanted to make sure that it came out perfect, and maybe - like all musicians I know - they think they could have made certain parts of it better in retrospect, but I honestly can't imagine how.

Between the versatility, the emotion that people feel when they listen to it, the heaviness, the quality, and the songwriting, Sleep Token don't cut any corners anywhere. That's why they're already playing these huge, career defining shows, and putting out music that's changing people's perception of heavy music as a whole. It's so exciting to be a Sleep Token fan, and I just want them to write even more mind-blowing music and play even bigger places because they truly deserve it.

The bigger the places that they play, the better they're going to sound live. They're already playing arenas over in the UK, and with the size of those venues I just know they're going to sound absolutely incredible. They're reaching heights much higher than most metal bands that I know, and the bigger they get, the better their production value is going to be all round.

'Take Me Back To Eden' only came out earlier this year, but I already can't wait to hear them put out more music. lf what we heard on album three is the direction that they're going in, I'm very optimistic to see what the future holds for Sleep Token. I imagine at one point, they're going to make it on the radio - and honestly it could happen sooner rather than later. I knew it when I first heard them, and I'm even more certain of it now - they're going to be huge.

#tumblr if you don't post this again after i've spent over two hours on this so help me istg #sleep token #sleep token worship #will ramos #lorna shore

322 notes · View notes

poisonlove · 5 months

Text

To trust.... you? | Lucy Gray

Lucy gray x fem reader

The gray of the sky reflected in tense faces and streets still marked by war marked the tenth anniversary of Capitol's Victory over the districts. Ten years of oppression that still echoed in the open wounds of society.

That year, in the insidious game of the Hunger Games, the 12 districts found themselves facing amplified cruelty. No longer were two tributes randomly drawn, but an intricate and ruthless tournament with separate female and male competitions in arenas.

In this special edition for Capitol City, each district had to send not one, but two tributes of both sexes, bringing the total to 48 tributes. The stakes were higher, and the air was tense as the boys and girls from District 12 faced an even more uncertain fate in this game orchestrated by Capitol cruelty.

Y/N Y/S and Lucy Gray were the girls destined to fight in this arena.

Y/N Pov's

My breath is ragged as I stare anxiously at the Arena screen. Every countdown from the charismatic host Lucky Flickerman tightens my heart, creating an atmosphere laden with anxiety. Each second lost in those numbers is a step closer to the unknown, a uncertain dance with destiny.

I quickly shift my attention to my District 12 companion, Lucy Gray. The only thing I knew about her is that she's an excellent singer, as she demonstrated during the tribute selection.

I see her on the other side of the Arena, eyes as black as coal gleaming with challenge as she watches the screen. Her ruffled, colorful skirt stands out remarkably in this dark and colorless environment, making her almost a visible beacon to the enemy.

And speaking of enemies, there's no doubt that the girls from Districts 4, 2, and 7 are the most dangerous. Not because of social matters, slightly better off than ours, but due to their impressive physical presence. They are robust, muscular, and in this lethal context, their strength makes them formidable adversaries.

"I just need to run and hide," I mutter distractedly, recalling the words of my mentor Coriolanus Snow. Lucy Gray, with her mentor Sejanus Plinth, prepares for the sound of the gong, and the fierce struggle among the girls begins.

I find myself almost disoriented in that area, intimidated by the cries and the sounds of swords and knives among the girls. I widen my eyes and throw myself to the ground, seeing a trident flying in my direction.

"Please, don't do this!" I exclaim in terror.

The girl from District 6 walks determinedly toward me, retrieving the trident she had thrown. "There's no room for mercy here. We survive or die, and you're in my way," she declares venomously.

I retreat in fear, dragging my palms on the arena ground, aware that my end might be imminent. The girl from District 6 raises the trident, ready to strike when suddenly a knife lodges in her neck. Her gaze instantly fades, and I find myself staring at the scene in wide-eyed surprise.

I quickly get up, ready to flee, when a sharp pain in my leg stops me. With gritted teeth, I turn and see the girl from District 11, with a sly look and a barely perceptible disappointment for missing the shot.

"You'll be mine… girl from 12," she murmurs with an unsettling smile, announcing my imminent death sentence.

I pull out the knife and, with the other hand, apply pressure to my leg.

With determination, I begin to walk towards the underground, trying to avoid further unpleasant encounters. The pain in my leg is a constant reminder of the brutality of this Arena, and my determination ignites as I seek refuge in the darkest recesses of the hostile environment.

I sneak into a room, the escape from the Arena's fury etched in my tired eyes. I slump near a wall, feeling the weight of exhaustion and the throbbing pain from the leg wound. The room offers a moment of respite, but the labored breath reveals physical and mental fatigue.

To my surprise, Lucy Gray is there, also seeking refuge. Our eyes meet in an instant, a palpable tension in the adrenaline-charged air.

I shaky point the knife at Lucy, eager to defend myself. In a gesture of surrender, she raises her hands.

"I don't want to hurt you," Lucy whispers, her gaze fixed on the knife in my hand.

I flash a sarcastic smile. "And how do I know that? We're in the Hunger Games; you can't trust anyone," I murmur, holding back the pain in my leg.

"I understand… but I have no reason to attack you… of course, if you do, I'll be forced to defend myself," Lucy says, cautiously advancing in my direction.

"Stop right there," I state seriously, the hand still unsteady.

Lucy looks at me with eyes sparkling with curiosity. Her gaze lands on my bleeding leg. "I could help you," she murmurs softly. "It doesn't look like a good wound," she adds, grimacing.

"Don't even think about it," I retort through gritted teeth.

"We come from the same district… can't we have a truce?" she asks, sounding annoyed.

I consider her proposal, recognizing that help would be advantageous at this moment. "We're destined to kill each other sooner or later, but maybe we can make the journey a bit more interesting," I exclaim, looking at her carefully, my vision starting to blur from the effort.

"You made a wise choice, girl from 12. We're stronger together," Lucy exclaims with a small smile on her lips.

"Y/N," I murmur, shaking the knife, pointing it at Lucy. "If I die, at least you'll know my name," I confess, and she looks at me attentively. "Lucy," she whispers, and I chuckle weakly.

"I know who you are, Capitol's songbird," I murmur and suppress a groan of pain, feeling a new stab in my leg.

It's the first time we've spoken since we were drawn from the urn.

I lower the knife, allowing Lucy to approach. The truce, uncertain but necessary, casts a strange shadow on the competition. Lucy kneels, examining my leg carefully. "I need the knife," she suddenly exclaims.

"You can forget about that," I assert with determination.

Lucy huffs and looks up at me, her eyes staring into mine with intensity. "I just told you I don't want to hurt you," she retorts firmly.

I huff in return and hand the knife to Lucy. In the gesture, our fingers brush, generating a shiver that runs down my spine. Cheeks tinged with red as I avert my gaze toward the knife, watching her cut a piece of her ruffled skirt.

"What are you doing?" I ask with curiosity, and she continues to cut the fabric of her dress.

"I'm trying to keep you alive," she whispers weakly. "I had to ruin my mother's dress… but I think it will help with the wound," she continues, wrapping the fabric around my wound to stop the bleeding.

The silence shatters with the sound of screams from outside. The fierce competition continues, but in this room, our moment of truce is a fragile flame burning against the cold reality of the Hunger Games.

***

Three relentless days have passed since the games began, and now, in the dark theater of the arena, only four of us remain. Me, Lucy, the unstable girl from District 11 with an obsession to kill me, and the fierce one from District 2.

Lying in our refuge, I feel my body slightly heavy from fever and the pain in my wounded leg. Lucy, with her determined kindness, has taken care of me as if I were precious. I find myself playing with a small pebble, wrapping my fingers around the cold stone as I wait for Lucy's return, each moment growing longer.

The Capitol's nightingale had gone out to fetch water and food, but her prolonged absence fuels my concern. The sound of approaching footsteps grabs my attention, and my heart flutters at the thought that other tributes might have discovered our hiding place.

I rise to my feet with cautious timidity, brushing my hand against the knife at my belt, preparing for the worst. Tension creeps into the air as I wait in silence, eyes fixed on the iron door. I release a sigh of relief when I finally see Lucy's figure emerge through the door, holding a water bottle in her hands.

Her genuine smile and the sparkle in her eyes reassure me in an instant.

With graceful steps, Lucy approaches, but the unusual light in her eyes doesn't escape my notice. "Why did you get up despite the fever?" she asks with a slightly reproachful tone, but her gaze reveals genuine concern. "I was worried there might be another tribute nearby," I reply with a faint smile.

Lucy nods, understanding my unease.

Lucy comes closer and sits beside me, looking at me curiously. "Sit," she says gently, indicating a space next to her. Reluctantly, I obey without complaints.

With a small smile, Lucy rests my head on her lap, gently stroking my hair. "I feel useless," I confess in a low voice, "I haven't done anything in these three days," I add timidly.

Lucy looks down at me with unreadable eyes. "You kept me company," Lucy murmurs gently, smiling sideways. She leans down and kisses my forehead, a gesture that makes me blush. When she pulls away, Lucy widens her smile. "Well, the fever is gone," she breathes a sigh of relief. "How do you know?" I ask curiously, and Lucy smiles widely, "Your forehead is cool now. Sit, and I'll change your bandage," she murmurs sweetly.

I obey without hesitation, feeling grateful for Lucy's care. As she changes the bandage on my wound, our silent dialogue continues, and in that moment in the heart of that ruthless arena, I find comfort in Lucy's kindness.

"Done," Lucy murmurs weakly, lifting her head. Her smile fades when she notices the proximity between our faces, her eyes relaxing, looking at me seriously through long lashes.

Lucy bends down shyly, and my heart begins to beat faster as she gently places her lips against mine in a sweet and unexpected kiss. A thrill of emotion runs through my body, and for a moment, the arena and the cruel reality around us seem to fade, replaced by the sweetness of that unexpected gesture.

Lucy withdraws shyly, almost instantly breaking the kiss.

"Don't you think there's something wrong?" I ask breathlessly, still stunned by the effect of the kiss.

Lucy tilts her head sideways, curious. "Because we're two girls? If that bothers you, no one is seeing us..." Lucy murmurs softly, almost disappointed by my reaction.

"No... it's not strange for two girls to kiss... but the fact that sooner or later we'll have to kill each other," I exclaim with terror.

Lucy sighs and firmly grasps my face, looking at me with bright eyes. "In one way or another, you and I will get out together," she whispers almost against my lips.

Her thumb gently strokes my lower lip as she bites her own before leaning in again. Our lips meet in a quick movement, a kiss that conveys a promise and a challenge, all within the context of that merciless arena.

After our kiss, I notice that Lucy's black hair is tousled, and a radiant smile paints her lips. It's a moment of sweetness and vulnerability, as if for a moment, we've stolen from the brutality of the Hunger Games a fragment of normalcy.

"And what if we got out, put an end to these cruel games?" I suggest with vibrant voice.

Lucy nods, her eyes tired but determined. "Yes, it's time to end all of this," she responds with a firmness that betrays her exhaustion but also her desire for freedom. The agreement between us forms in silence, a tacit understanding that in this distorted world, our union is our only salvation.

"We'll face whatever awaits us together," I say, trying to convey hope. "Our bond can defy the rules of this arena, offer us an existence beyond this cruelty."

Lucy, with eyes reflecting a mix of weariness and resilience, replies, "Yes, together we can make it."

With Lucy's smile as our guide, we prepare to conclude this struggle, aware that the strength of our union is our ace in the hole.

Lucy grasps my hand, intertwining our fingers with a grip that conveys solidarity. The sensation of her hand in mine brings a smile to my face, a ray of comfort amidst so much uncertainty. Timidly, limping due to the leg wound, we move together towards the entrance of the arena.

We walk slowly through the dark tunnel, our figures moving cautiously like blurred shadows. The sound of our footsteps resonates dully against the cold, damp walls. Lucy, with her determination, leads the way, while I, with a mixture of anxiety and hope, follow.

When we finally emerge from the darkness of the tunnel, I am blinded by the glaring sunlight. I raise a hand to shield my eyes, accustomed to the dimness of our illuminated refuge, but not to such intensity. The light, so bright and vivid, is almost a surprise, a revelation after days of darkness.

My figure emerges, outlined by the sun's glow, and for a moment, I stand still, as if the outside world is a new and unknown place. The arena's landscape unfolds slowly, and the warmth of the sun is like a caress on my skin, a welcome after days of cold and dampness.

Lucy, with a radiant smile, tightens her grip on my hand even more. Together, with determined steps, we head towards the uncertain destiny that awaits us, ready to face whatever comes next, but determined to do it together.

"Here's a sweet surprise in the arena! It seems a new love has blossomed in this bloody period. Ah, love, how beautiful even amidst arrows and knives!" Flickerman's surprised voice resonates in the arena, noting our intertwined hands.

The host's voice catches the attention of the girl from District 11, just coming off the killing of the tribute from District 2. When her eyes meet ours and see our intertwined hands, she genuinely smiles, savoring the hunt.

Lucy Gray watches the girl from District 11 closely.

"But look at that, two lovers in the arena. It will be a shame to separate you," says the girl from District 11 with false innocence.

"Better focus on what matters now. Survival," Lucy Gray murmurs venomously.

The girl from District 11 pushes Lucy away with a determined gesture and charges towards me. With a swift move, she manages to disengage from me and, surprisingly agile, positions herself astride my legs.

Lucy Gray, distant but watching attentively, rises from the abrupt fall she experienced earlier. Her eyes scan the scene with concern, our alliance now put to the test.

I try to recover from the surprise, feeling the pressure of the girl from District 11's legs over me. Her axe glints threateningly, and the awareness of vulnerability pushes me to find a way to defend myself.

"Looks like love doesn't protect from everything, does it?" the girl from District 11 murmurs with a sneer. Her laughter is sharp, and my struggle to recover is hindered by her skill. I watch Lucy Gray with a silent look, hoping our connection is strong enough to face this threat together. The situation becomes critical, and my hope focuses on every resource I can exploit to turn the tide of this ruthless battle.

I raise my arms, skillfully avoiding the descending axe. I look at the girl from District 11 with concern, ignoring her cutting remarks.

"Better focus on yourself now, don't you think?" I murmur firmly, giving a quick glance behind the girl from District 11.

Lucy, with determination, thrusts the trident into the back of the girl from District 11, the prongs emerging from her chest. A hiss of pain blends with the silence, followed by a final breath. The fight was short but intense, and the body of the girl from District 11 gives in, overcome by the fierceness of the clash.

The voice that echoed in the arena proclaimed: "The games end with the victory of the individual district!" The voice belonged to the strategist.

I turn to Lucy with overwhelming joy. My smile widens to 32 teeth, and in her black eyes, I find the same pure happiness. The awareness that I no longer have to try to kill my District 12 companion translates into a tangible relief that permeates the atmosphere.

Ignoring the pain in my leg, I rise and stride with long steps towards Lucy. The trident is thrown to the ground, the metal still damp with the blood of the fallen tribute. Lucy, aware that only the two of us remain, launches herself into my arms with a mixture of fatigue and triumph.

From the euphoria of victory, Lucy firmly takes my cheeks, the warm contact of her hands contrasting with the cold of the trident just used. Her eyes shine with happiness and relief. Without words, but with an intense connection, Lucy kisses me with a passion that conveys the weight of the just-survived struggle. It's a moment of joy and survival, a celebration of a connection that has withstood the trials of the arena.

Lucy's hands, covered in dirt, firmly rest around my cheeks. Despite the dust and the fatigue of battle, I feel a strange sense of comfort.

Lucy, with eyes shining with vibrant intensity, looks at me as if she wants to read every emotion crossing my gaze. "It's just us two left," she says with a warm voice, a mix of emotion and relief.

I respond with an intense look, gratitude palpable in the air between us. "Yes, Lucy. We're still here."

Her hands move slowly from my cheeks, descending along my neck and delicately settling on my shoulders. "We've overcome all of this together."

"Also you, Lucy. Your strength has been my guide," I reply, smiling slightly as I feel the warmth of her hands on my skin.

Lucy, with a radiant smile, nods. "I couldn't have done it without you." Her hands move away, but only to grasp mine, intertwining our fingers in a gesture that underscores our connection.

Our gaze locks onto each other, and in our eyes, there's an awareness of what we've faced together. "Now that we're alone, we can make it, Lucy," I say, trying to convey the determination I feel inside me.

Lucy nods with seriousness. "Yes, y/n. We're strong together." With a sudden movement, her hands return to my face, and she kisses me again, this time with gentleness and gratitude. It's a gesture that speaks more than a thousand words, confirming the bond we've built through struggle and survival.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #district 12 #lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray baird #lucy gray x reader #female #lesbian kissing #War #ribelli

338 notes · View notes

vixeneptune · 10 months

Text

AFFIRMATIONS THAT WORK LIKE A LOVE SPELL

My aura is so enchanting

My energy has that love spell effect on people

People fall in love with me the moment they hear me

People fall in love with me the moment they see me

People fall in love with me the moment they meet me

I'm so charming, no one can resist my charms

People fall in love with me at first sight

Everyone is mesmerized by my presence and beauty

I fell in love with myself bc I'm so fucking amazing

I naturally attract love bc I radiate love

I can attract anyone I want instantly with just one glance

I can attract anyone I want so effortlessly, like I don't even have to try

I am a magnet for love

People can't help but fall in love with me

I always have the best options in love, literally have a whole simp army after me bc everyone who encounters me ends up falling in love w me

I'm so mesmerizing I charm everyone I encounter

My love radiates for miles and attracts everyone

My eyes make anyone fall deeply in love with me

I have this irresistible charm that everyone falls for

I'm so magnetic, everyone feels so attracted to me

I get too many love confessions daily

I can pull anyone I want with my natural charm and magnetism

Anyone I desire ends up falling deeply in love with me eventually

People easily develop a major crush on me

People fall in love with me in an instant

My eyes naturally have that powerful love spell effect

I make them fall in love with just one look

Everything I do is so charming

My natural energy is enchanting and mesmerizing

people find it so easy to fall for me

My presence inspires people to shower me with love and affection

Idk why my desired people fall in love with me so fast and deep , they become crazy in love and it lasts forever

I'm the girl everyone falls in love with

People love showering me with love and giving me love freely bc I'm so lovable

The moment people meet me they fall under my charms, they become so enchanted by me

I'm the girl who gets anyone she wants instantly

They wonder if I put a spell on them bc of how strongly their love is for me, but no it's just my natural energy

Both men and women develop major crushes on me

I'm so easy to love

I'm everyone's dream girl

I'm literally everyone's crush bc I'm so charismatic and charming

I'm the girl of everyone's dreams

Everywhere I go I get more than 10 people who are in love with me

I already manifested the relationship of my dreams!

Manifesting love is the easiest most natural thing for me

I'm the girl everyone has a crush on

I always attract quality options in love who are willing to give me the world

People feel lucky and blessed to know me

They give me so much love without expecting anything in return

I am the goddess of love and beauty

People wonder what my secret is, why does everyone fall in love with me instantly?

I'm so enchanting and bewitching, my presence captivates everyone around me

It's impossible not to love me, people literally have no choice but to fall in love with me they can't help it

I have too many secret admirers to count

They send me flowers and gifts and spoil me, they do anything to please me just because they love me that much

Why is everyone confessing their undying love for me all of a sudden?

How do i keep getting so many people trying to pursue me and offer me love?

People feel compelled to let me know how crazy in love they are with me

Why is it so easy for me to manifest whatever I want in love? It's like I have magical love powers

Every second that passes with me people can feel themselves falling deeper and deeper in love

Why do I always get anyone I want? Like it's so natural and easy

Whoever I want, wants me 1000x times more

Everyone is captivated and hooked on me like I'm their favorite most special person in the world

These affirmations are included in my love spell subliminal, give it a listen for maximum effects ⚡

youtube

517 notes · View notes

goldsbitch · 4 months

Text

That second flight

part 4 to That one Christmas flight

summary: What happens when people stop lying to themselves? Sometimes, you get a good night out of it.

warnings: cheesy af, swear words and alcohoI guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

Do not fuck it up, do not fuck it up, do not fuck this up.

Hey you? What kind of a message even is that? Ugh. She ruined it. Now she will have to move away and start her life again.

The weather forecast predicted high levels of overreacting for today.

He must have liked the cool girl vibe she somehow gave of on the plane. Y/N prayed for the gods of cool vibes to bless her again.

Lando was just about to start an interview for Sky Sports when he received her message. He imagined this was how it felt to win a podium. On the top of the world. He gave an absolutely charismatic, energetic and funny interview. One that would surely create lots of gifs on the socials. PR manager even high-fived him when they finished. To be honest, he could not wait for a moment of solitude so that he could reply.

"hey" he started. "so I broke the rule, ups" Her reply came instantly.

"I've noticed. But then again, you radiate speeding tickets vibe from miles away. So no surprise."

He smiled, well aware of how efficient the Italian ticketing was running.

"paid one last week, so you got me there" "so, how's your cool student life going?"

"Trying gain some wisdom, as people just feel free to call me dumb on social media these days."

"compliments come in a variety of forms, don't discriminate"

From now on, there was no way back.

The next few days consisted of constant texting. Joking around, sending pictures capturing their daily life - both of them keeping in secret that lots of the information shared was nothing new. They were careful, somewhat distancing themselves from any real deep topics. But, days felt like blur, waiting for the next text to come and somehow managing to live the real life in between that. Y/N stayed in most evenings, almost making her friends concerned.

It did not take long enough for famously patient Lando to getting sick of it. They had a week between the next three week round of races. It was now or never. He missed one chance by being mr. mysterious, so mr. direct it was now.

"so, lady. what are you doing this weekend?" he asked out of the blue.

"I dunno. Probably studying, I guess."

"well, you're smart enough, you can skip that. let's meet up."

Y/N pretended to herself that she was second guessing. She headed out, to the bar where her friends were hanging out before they planned on heading to some faculty party. She felt joining them suddenly. Sat quietly, listening to their usual chit chat. Her charade lasted about seven minutes.

"Yes. Let's." she texted and threw her phone deep down to her bag. She was nervous, heart racing and mind quite not catching up yet.

"I need to tell you guys something," she interrupted them and almost demanded immediate attention. Questioning looks followed. "Uh, so I met this guy on a plane. And I'm gonna see him again this weekend."

Saying it like that, she realized that it was all kind of real and that she probably could not explain it in words how bizzare it all felt.

"Aw, that's cute! Tell us more!" Teresa clapped excitedly, the whole weird vibe surrounding her friend making more sense now.

Y/N expected her friends to be more shocked. "Um, yeah. It's just this guy. I don't really know how it's gonna happen, but yeah."

"Is he coming here? Can we meet him?"

Y/N kept the information that they already did to herself. Just in case she is left stranded alone and disappointed.

"I don't...I don't know actually. Yeah."

"We will do as we always do - sharing location and staying by if needed, honey."

Y/N missed a text notification. "great. i'll fly you out to somewhere where we can be alone, not to sound too creepy."

She landed an hour after him. Lando sent a picture of him waiting at the airport cafe.

He booked the best hotel room he could find. Well, technically he booked two rooms. Just in case she wanted to keep her distance or if by any chance he fucked up so royally, that she would refuse to share space with him. At least, he could walk away from this like a gentleman.

Since she last him, she forgot just how hot this guy was in person. Seeing him, sitting casually sipping coffee and glued to him phone, she took a moment to study him. It was as if he was tailored specifically to her taste. His clothes covering his godlike body, not too muscular but enough for the sight of his arms sending her to different dimension. The origin of her audacity she had to be the first one to talk to him on the plane was unknown to her. There was no more panic left in her body, as she had done nothing but panicking the whole flight.

She walked and sat opposite to him.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Hey yourself," she replied. There was a moment of awkward silence. Turns out there was a bit of panic left in Y/N after all. Last week she though she'd never see this guy. And now she was staring in his eyes.

"Do you want some coffee?," he asked innocently. He looked her up and down, excited to see her. All of his worries he refused to acknowledge were gone. After all, she got up and flew here just to hang out with him. The reality of this filled him with confidence.

"Yes. A small tiny espresso with no milk."

"Great. Let's grab that and hit the road."

Lando's car might have as well run on butterflies alone present in his vehicle. There was absolutely no way for him to drive some random rental car, so he called up McLaren people to provide him one for the night. It came up in the same conversation when he requested personal time off. Both things came to a certain level of surprise, as he had never done this before. Y/N knew she had to work on a group project for one of her minor classes. Just like him, she had done something she would not have dared - and completely ghosted her group for this weekend.

"You look nice, btw," he commented casually.

"Well yeah, when you're not on an overnight flight across half of the world wearing airport attire, it makes thing easier."

"Hm, I would say sweatpants have some magic to them."

It was hard for Y/N to get the image of him out of her head.

"So, where is my lovely kidnapper taking me?"

They discussed prior to this that the vibe they would like out of this was a casual dinner and then finding the shittiest club possible and have some fun, trying to remain as private as possible yet within the vicinity of the small Italian city.

"My assistant found this lovely little place in the centre. Don't get mad, but I had him completely book it out. You know, the privacy thing," he said with more insecurity than one would expect.

Y/N picked up on that and tried to lighten up the mood. It seemed a bit excessive to do that, but he probably knew what he was doing.

"Your assistant," she gagged over dramatically. "Jesus, am I not worth enough for you to google on your own? Mr. Busy man. Was he also the one who found me online them?" she joked?

"I'm sure I'd have to hire a special person to that if I planned on outsourcing it."

"Creep."

"You love it."

And she did.

He parked in front of the restaurant, without a care for the world.

"So you're telling me we're making a big deal about keeping a secret that you're here, yet you decide to park like a proper asshole?" she remarked while he opened the door for her. Jokes were making her focus on something else than the fact she was falling for him too hard.

"Oh, you're going absolutely hate my plan," he laughed as they were entering the full on empty restaurant.

"Wow, look at that. I invited all my friends!" he whispered to her ear before addressing the owner.

"Hello, you must be Dario?"

This Dario person smiled brightly at him. "Ah, mister Papaya!" Lando nodded and Y/N rolled her eyes. Dario then started speaking Italian without a care of the world. Language wise deaf Lando did not count for the fact people just did not speak English in this part of Italy. A tiny crack in his plan. What was he suppose to do, call Carlos? But, Y/N having spend a good year or two studying there was there to ease the situation. She whipped out her B1 Italian and greeted the man. Dario's happiness filled up the room.

He seated them and immediately brought local red wine and giving a long talk about where this wine was from and how his grandma used to pick up the grapes herself and how the notes did this and that. Y/N tried to translate at the beginning, but Dario looked like was ready to give a TED talk. She started to loose the grasp of the story, which Lando observed. And like good gentleman he helped her out. No, of course not, when he saw her getting lost, he put on a super interested face and asked about seven follow up questions. Y/N was super annoyed. The kind of annoyed that creates a smile on your face.

When this showdown finally ended, Y/N nearly gulped the wine down. "So rude, Dario just said, you're suppose to sit it and let it roll," said Lando and with too much affect sipped his wine. "Aah," he took a deep breath and the bit his tongue. Y/N stuck her tongue out completely like a five year old child. "Yes, I can your red tongue, that's also one of the reasons why you sip it."

They sat, talked and laughed. He seemed genuinely interested when she blabbed a little bit too long about her latest projects. And then he asked her for a feedback on his latest merch, which by sheer coincidence included lots of photos of him. It was hard to admit how much he enjoyed the idea of her looking at him.

"So, um. I'm not sure I understood Dario correctly. But it looks like he insists on getting us the local speciality," she said hesistantly.

"Well, only if his grandma would approve. But why is this strange look on your face?"

"I must have gotten it wrong. Because burnt pasta just sounds wrong. If I wanted that, I could have stayed and have my roommate cook for us."

"Hm, that is an interesting idea." Lando pretended he did not know her roommate's name.

Once Darion brought out the burnt pasta, the couple had a hard time not to laugh.

"When in Rome...well not in Rome, but you get the idea."

"Why is this good?" Y/N proclaimed with her mouth full to the limit.

Lando laughed. "Ah, we have a lady at the table, I see. I mean yeah, I am not supposed to be having pasta now, but this is so weirdly good."

They finished their strange pasta and the bottle of wine. Said goodbye to Dario, Y/N tried not to think on how much it cost to close a restaurant down.

"Wait, what are we going to do about the car? We can't drive now."

"Not to sound like a complete asshole, but I'd like we remove the WE from any sentence including driving now at the beginning, if that is ok. And like I said at the beginning, you're gonna hate this."

"Go on, Lando boy. Tell me."

"Yeah, the car was provided by my employer. And they really need me, so I'm just going to leave the car here to get towed and inform them later."

"Jesus, why!"

"Well, I figured we'll get a taxi in the morning. I want to enjoy all the time I have with you. Dealing with the car is not on the menu today."

There was nothing for Y/N to reply. She was having too much fun to be thinking.

They found what seemed to be the shittiest bar playing 80's and 90's songs, weirdly colored lights swinging out of the rhythm and with people there consisting of old papas and few probably underaged kids. They brought their own wine bottle from Dario, Lando paid 100 euro for two glasses and for the bartender leaving them alone. It did not take long for Y/N to break out to the dance floor. Lando watched her clumsy yet somehow elegant moves for a moment, before he joined her. They danced, as if they were the only people there, laughing and completely ignoring the looks they were getting. And to the tones of remix of Brother Louis, they kissed again. And this time, they kept kissing until late hours, hand roaming around each other, as if they were two teenagers making out for the first time.

part 5

__________________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1 @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother

393 notes · View notes

ametrinearrows · 5 months

Text

Lose It All

YN walked into the arena with three hours before Monday Night Raw started and headed straight towards her assigned locker room. Her mind was clouded with the different thoughts and emotions she had felt the past few months, so she kept her head down as much as she could until she could reach a safe place for her to let go of the false smile, she often wore these days. The girl was still going through the motions from the passing of her mother four months prior. Despite the way her performances in the ring being top notch, YN felt the void but continued to hide the pain beneath the stoic façade.

As she made her way to the locker room, she was startled to see that Cody Rhodes, her closest friend, was standing just outside the door waiting for her. With his trademark charismatic smile, he extended his hand to her and said, “I believe it’s past time for us to have a little chat. Don’t you?”

The YHC-haired girl hesitated for a moment before nodding and took his hand in hers as he led her into the room. The two of them settled down on the bench once inside and YN instantly started fidgeting with her hands. She wasn’t the type of girl that found it easy to talk about her feelings no matter who the person she was talking to was.

Cody leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees as he tried to get a better look at his best friend, his voice was gentle yet firm as he spoke to her. “I think you know that by now everyone has noticed how you walk around like there’s a two-ton brick on your shoulders and, Babygirl, that’s no way to live. You don’t have to fight whatever is going on in your head by yourself. So, if you’re ready and willing to talk, now’s the time. I’m right here and more than willing to listen and help you get through it.”

Her eyes began to well up with tears as he reminded her that there was always someone there to be her listening ear. She took a deep breath and poured her heart out for him as she shared the pain she was going through internally and the feeligns of loneliness that had grappled onto her since her mother’s death.

The blue-eyed man listened attentively to every word YN had to say with nothing but complete empathy for her written in his eyes. He nodded as he offered words of comfort and understanding whenever she needed to hear them. With losing his father not too long ago, he understood what she was feeling and what she might have needed to hear. Cody also knew YN just needed to know there was someone there for her. He didn’t try to fix her pain because he knew there was only so little that could, instead, he provided a safe space in him for her emotions to be acknowledged and validated.

As the words flooded out, YN could feel the weight lifting from her chest. His presence alone was able to get through the day but his willingness to sit there and listen to everything she had ever felt in the past few months gave her the strength to confront her grief head-on. Something that she had avoided doing for the longest time.

After what had felt like an eternity of talking, YN had finished letting go of everything. She wiped away the tears that had fallen, even though she was sure there were more to come. Looking into Cody’s eyes, she whispered, “Thank you, Cody.”

“What are you thanking me for?” he questioned.

YN looked down at her hands that were still fidgeting with each other. “For being you. For being...” she took a moment to breathe deeply before she continued, “there just to listen. In the past four months, you have been the first and only person who has done that. Though I know that I have put on this brave mask and face the day like nothing in the world can tear me down, I’ve been needing someone to actually let me lose it all on them for a bit. I just didn’t realize how bad I needed that until now.”

Cody smiled warmly and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to thank me for any of that. I was simply returning the favor you once gave me. You’re my best friend so that makes you family. Just remember you’re never alone in this, ever.”

YN gave him and slight smile and nodded. From that point on, Cody took it upon himself to periodically get her to tell him all that weighed on her. He had no idea how much it truly helped her through it all, but she appreciated it all the same.

#ametrine arrows #ametrine arrows imagines #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #Monday night raw #smackdown #Cody rhodes #Cody rhodes x reader #Cody rhodes imagine #Cody rhodes imagines #Cody rhodes fanfiction #wwe fanfiction

238 notes · View notes

hellsfirekeepsyouwarm · 7 months

Text

I Swear To You

Frank Castle x Reader Requested:

Hello my lovely writer, I'm in great need of some protective care taking fluffy angsty Frank Castle fic. And so I was wondering if you are interested in my request =) please let me know what you think. Frank has a cute new neighbor. They ended up talking a lot, Frank even flirting with her, but doesn't have the guts to make a move. One evening she was on a date which went sideways. The creep drugged her. As she notices something is wrong she snuck out of the bar calling a taxi to go home as fast as she can. He manhandled her as he notices she waiting for a taxi but she makes it home... She barely made it to pay the driver as she stumbled to her door to out if it from her spiked drink, so she isn't able to open her door let alone find her key. She collapses at Sehr front door, lying in the Cola night (maybe she hit her head pretty badly when going down). Frank comes home and finds her in feoneof her door. She's hypothermic and he notices her weird state and knows instantly she was drugged. So he takes care of her and her wounds and tries to warm her up. He nurses her back the next days

I hope you like it and thanks for requesting, and sorry for pushing this out for too long.

TW: Mentions of dru-gs, mentions of SA, puking, a terrible man doing terrible things

Frank was a goner. The moment he spotted you at the end of the hallway, gently balancing on your high heels, dress hugging your curves perfectly, hair and makeup done like you were ready to walk the red carpet, he knew he messed up. He messed up when he let his facade fall, and let you see the real him. Or part of him. Nothing was out of place, he came back from work, catching your right opposite of his door, going to a walk, to get a coffee, to meet up with your friends. You greeted him just the same, but your smile was giddy, a little bit too wide for a regular day.

He was oblivious to a lot of things, but even he could see that you are going to a date. And the guy is pretty fucking lucky tonight. He could see you wanted to impress, and you already won, because he was fascinated. He took sneaky glances, tried to act casual when you eyes spotted him walking towards you, shoulders heavy with a long ass day behind him. You greeted him as usual, asked about his day as usual, but he just couldn't act like usual. He had to acknowledge how beautiful you looked, and he did just that. A compliment, then a hidden question to confirm his suspicion. Your hips swayed as you walked away from him, giggling at his compliment, dissepearing into the night.

He was in deep. Too deep.

You had a good time, the best since a while. He was charming, charismatic, a kind face with a killer smile. Smooth talk, lingering touches. He was literally perfection. He really was.

As the night progressed, your glass never emptied out fully, he made sure you had plenty to drink. You didn't think much of it, his glass was the same, always full, often smiling into the golden liquor that grazed his lips. You ate, but surely not enough for the amount of drinks you consumed. How much did you really drink? You couldn't recall when your vision started to feel so tunnel like, or how your head felt heavy like a brick strapped to it. The more you felt it, the often his smile faltered.

First you thought you were just tired, haven't ate enough, that's why you are being a lightweight now. But in the back of your mind something told you it wasn't that. You only drank wine, wine that most of the time brought the frizzy numbness to you and the giggles out from you, meanwhile right now, you feel like you drank an entire cupboard of alcohol.

He is closer now. Pulled his chair next to you sometime you don't remember happening, if you saw it, you already forgot it. His breath fanning you ear as he speaks to you, something along the lines of going home, having a good time, taking it somewhere more private.

You wonder if you can walk to the restroom, or even stand up on your feet. You never had to wonder. Alcohol never made you think you physically can't move your body as you want. Panic have settled in your bones, silently urging you to do something. Anything, just to get away from him. You felt his fingers grazing your thigh, pushing your dress higher with every stroke, his voice still murmuring into your ear, although you cannot understand what he's saying.

You excuse yourself, trying to mimic you half an hour ago self. Flirty and joyful, you try to laugh it off, telling him you have to freshen up, telling that you have to pee badly, giggling while admitting it. You must act good, because when you slip off the chair, his warmth doesn't follow, nor his voice. You heart is beating rapidly in your chest, probably the only thing that you can concentrate on to not fall face first to the ground.

You are so fucking hopeful you walk somewhat towards to restroom, so he doesn't realize you are figuring your way out of the place.

A cute face emreges in front of you, your body oddly colliding with the person, you hands flying up to steady yourself on their shoulder. You would be so embarrassed if you were sober. It's a waitress, asking you if you are alright, honest concern in her voice.

You mumble something out, praying it makes sense and she'll know what you need.

"You want to go home? Want us to call a taxi?" She asks with a comforting voice. "Do you need us to call someone?"

Frank's name comes to mind first, and you silently scold yourself for never asking for his number.

"Hmmm, no."

"Let us call a taxi, yeah love?" She says, gently pushing your body forward with her hands eloping you in a side hug. Everything is blurry, your vision only picking up bits and parts of the world around.

You were more than sure that he put something in your drink. If your body wasn't so numb, you would be an erratic mess right now. Your senses are limited, everything comes and goes like a dream. You are not even afraid what he had put in your drinks, you just want to get away from him far away enough so he cannot talk the sweet lady out of helping you. You momentarily feel the cold breeze outside before the early winter air hits you in full force, the cold easing your flaming skin.

"HEY, excuse me. Where are you taking her?" The hair stands up on your whole body from his voice. Sweet, hidden malicious. "No i won't take a step back, where are you taking my girlfriend? Honey look at me!"

You don't have anything in you to respond. You just want to go home.

"Sir you need to leave her alone."

Hushed voices follows movement, softly pushing and pulling you around. Where is your purse? Did you left there at the table? You have your phone and wallet in it, you'll need that.

"My purse, my phone.." You mumble, feeling your body lowered to a flat surface.

"It's in your hands love, take care." The lady says, her voice is distant. You squeeze your hand, feeling a tiny little strap in your palm confirming your fingers are locked on your bag. You barely feel the material on your skin.

"Where to?" Your eyes go wide with a new voice calling out. You are getting comfortable at the back of a taxi, an older man looking at you, waiting for an answer, the dim light up on the car's ceiling giving him a really bad angle.

You hear yourself telling him the address, the sound is like someone else and not you. The car goes smoothly, at least that's how you feel it, the seats smell funny, and the lights outside paints a weird image through the windows, your head's starts to spin as you can't comprehend your surrounding no more. You just wish the taxi driver is kind enough to lead you to your door.

You wished and you were so wrong. He calls out to you plenty of times before you manage to get out of the car, almost tripping over your own feet while doing so, trying to give him money for the ride.

And that's it, the car speeds off behind you, leaving you trembling on the sidewalk. Just a few steps right? That's all it takes to get to your apartment.

Your body sways with each drag of your legs, barely standing up. How you manage to get to your door? You don't know, probably will never know. But you eventually do, legs giving out right in front of it, landing on your knees with a sharp pain then ending up on your butt, the ice cold ground burning your skin where it connects.

Your body gives in to the drug in your system, turning the world to black.

He took a peaceful walk to the nearest diner, a place he and you are very fond of, often bumping to each other there, one of those times you said yourself how you love the oldschool vibe and the quiet there. Frank only grabbed a coffee to go, the couple of minute walk clearing his messy head, head that is filled to the brim with thoughts of you. It's rare to him, to have something else on his mind than his family or blood rage and revenge. It's refreshing and terrifying. When he left, you weren't home yet, almost two hours after you waved goodbye to him, and he started to feel restless. Two hour isn't too much for a first date? He wouldn't know, even back in the day he wasn't the guy who took girls to a date. His parents raised him old fashioned, but he usually liked the simpler things. Car rides, walks with deep talks, cheap picnic with soda and snacks. So what does he knows about fancy restaurant dates?

It's cold, too cold for the tiny dress you were dressed in, but he would take you home right? He would take you home, making sure you walk in your front door, seeing it close behind you before leaving. But that's him, and he knows for sure not every man thinks like that.

The coffee warming his palm, giving him some sort of comfort to his uneasiness, his eyes searching for the familiar door when he takes a turn to your street.

No lights up yet? Now he's worried. You might went home with him. It's possible, you are a beautiful grown woman, who probably knows very well what she wants. But his jaw clenches nevertheless at the thought. His eyes dart away in shame, knowing he has no right to be mad at you for having a good time.

His head snaps back so quick it hurts his neck, in the corner of his eyes a big dark spot in front if your door that wasn't there before. He blinks for a few times to make sure it's not just his brain tricking him into some illusions. His mind failed him before, showing him terrible things that weren't really there, but the rapid beating of his heart and the pounding in his head is a signal of the familiar danger he encountered so many times before. The type of feeling in his gut when he knows the worst is coming.

And nothing could have prepared him for your frozen body on the freezing ground. In your tiny dress, exposed skin sticking to the concrete, the contains of your purse scattered around.

His instinct kicks in with full force, his hands fumbling for a pulse under your skin. He checks your wrist and neck before pulling your numb body up to his embrace, without thinking twice about who might see him taking you into his apartment. God knows how did you end up there, and he's not risking it if your date shows up at your door, finishing what he had started.

Because why else would you be lying knocked out in front of your home, why couldn't you get in, why else would you loose consciousness if not because of a doing of a horrible piece of shit man?

He is a man on a mission. Something he felt ages ago, and now it's welcomed with a sense of purpose and a sharp sting in his heart.

You are terribly cold in his hands, and he has to hush the voice in his mind that tells him the worst possible outcome.

He rushes to his bed, putting you down on his sheets gently, fingers trembling as he pulls your damp dress off of you, at this point he can't bothered that you are nearly naked in his bed, this isn't how he imagined it. He rushes off, his boots heavy on the creaking wooden floor, looking for the warmest clothes he has in his mostly empty wardrobe. It's a hoodie and sweatpants he comes up with, the best he can offer.

He knows you'll be greatly embarrassed when you come to your senses, so when he removes your undergarments, he tries to do it as respectfully as it's possible. One clothing off and another on, your icy skin burning under his warm hands, the sensation leaving a bad taste in his mouth. A reminder that he has a bastard to find after you are recovered.

His mind is racing, the loud thump in his ears slowly quieting down as he checks for your pulse again, cursing himself that he doesn't have a damn thermometer. He should have called an ambulance, he thinks. But god knows how much time they need to get here, if they ever. He's being selfish. But you are in good hands, he wants to think you are okay with him.

He's greatful for his years in the military, now more than ever. When it comes to himself, he's tactical and precise but numb. Any wound he stitched up and treated is decent enough, but nothing more. His own discomfort and pain is a welcomed guest. But right now it's not his body that is in pain, and he's not allowed to be careless and emotionless. You are wrapped up in his bed, safe and sound, but it's nothing to soothe his nerves.

He grabs a towel from the bathroom, the exact same of the pretty set you gave to him a couple of weeks ago when you saw his own torn up one, insisting he needs it way more than your wardrobe where you kept it since buying them. He gently lifted your head from the soft pillow, neatly covering your damp hair in it, your soft breaths music to his ears, he leans closer, just to confirm you are breathing evenly.

He considers for moment before deciding to open your eyes with his fingertips, his suspicion is confirmed by your blown pupils, the color of your eyes barely visible from the blackness of it. He sighs, rage and anger coursing through his veins, tempting him to get up and find the fucker. It would be easy, so easy. But you need him more than he needs to ease the bloodlust.

Just now he realizes he is still in his coat, sweat glistening on his forehead, his body hot under the layers he should get rid of, dirty boots tainting the already year long stained flooring of his apartment.

He glances over to you, a last conformation you are okay before he himself changes from his street clothes.

He doesn't mean to overstep, but when he goes back to you, and you body is just as cold as when he found you outside, his mind is set. He carefully slips in to the bed, he himself isn't sure how he manages to get under you, he searches for the best way for his body to give off it's heat to you. So you are now trapped between his legs, back laying heavily on his abdomen, hair tickling his bare skin. It's more intimate Frank anticipated, but to be honest, he wasn't debating about it much before doing what his brain told him to do. He would change his mind about the position if he couldn't feel your body soaking up his warmth. It's satisfying, how you take unconsciously, and he's basking in the feeling of giving. It's been so long since he was able to serve gently, in a quiet manner. Like when he ruffled his son's hair, or put the school bag on his daughter back. Or how he played with a single strand of Maria's hair, putting it behind her ear.

So his hands pulls you closer, every part of you hugged by his body, giving and giving everything he has to offer.

Your head hurts. No, not hurts, splits into two, even more when your eyes open with a painful sharp feeling behind them. You would groan if your throat would let it slip past the desert that's inside. The rest in your bones mixing with various aches under your skin, and the comfort around isn't enough to reach your body. You are tempted to back to sleep, sure another hours wouldn't hurt, before you mind clears up, shaking the sleep out of you.

It hits you like a lightning. What day is it really? What day was yesterday?

You shot up, dizziness almost pulling you back down with a terrible feeling in your stomach. Before you could comprehend anything that's happening, something is held to your face where soon you empty out the contains of your stomach. A soothing hand appears on your back, trying to keep your hair there while you puke your literal life out. Sweet words reach your ears when your traumatized body calms a little bit down.

"You are alright, sweetheart." It's Frank's voice. "How you feelin'?"

Your grimace, disgust being the only thing you are feeling besides every ache of your body. "It's okay, darlin'. Just breath, let it out if you have to."

You look sideways, seeing him half naked, his body so close you can feel his warmth radiating towards your trembling body. He's concerned face is looking for something in yours, perhaps panic that why he is here with you, or the fact, that you aren't in your own room, or apartment, or why are you wearing his clothes that hangs on you loosely. There is an explanation for it, you know that, and you don't have the will or the energy to be panicked. Despite these thoughts, you heart beats out of your chest, hearing your blood rushing in your ears.

"What happened?" You ask. If you are with him, he's having all the answers. What is the last thing anyway that you remember? You getting ready? Was it yesterday? Your date. You don't remember your date. It's daytime right now, so it's surely passed.

Maybe it's too apparent on your face how you put together the pieces in your head, or he's just panicking at how you are starting to panic that you don't realize. Your shaking body is fumbling with the duvet around you, eyes snapping to Frank then to your surroundings, frantic with your every move. Like an animal cornered.

"Hey hey hey..You are alright! Look at me darling! Look at me." He forces you to look in his eyes, warm and safe, attention seeking. "You were drugged last night, but you are okay, you hear me? You'll have a hell of a day today, but it's gonna pass. Nothing happened, okay? He did nothing to you."

It's sincere. Everything he says he believes. How does he know?

"How..?"

"You know how, sweetheart. Let me get you some water okay? Get back in bed." He commands, leaving you on the side of the bed. So he is Frank Castle after all. You had you suspicion for a while, and you might asked too risque questions he caught on. How does this makes you feel? Kind of relieved, and grateful? You are grateful that your neighbor is a cold-blooded killer?

"There you go. Drink slowly, okay?" He murmurs, a black t-shirt now covering his upper body. You take careful sips, eyeing the man next to you without shame. He does the same, watching intently with so much comfort in his eyes.

"I don't remember anything." You voice is defeated, drained even without using it for hours now.

"I know, i'm sorry." Tears are threatening to fall as your mind tries to navigate the information that you have been drugged.

"What if he.."

"Nonononono, look at me! He did nothing to you. He put it in your wine, let you have too many drink, but he did no more than that!"

You nod. Accepting it. He's the Punisher after all.

He takes your hand in his, planting a faint kiss on top on your knuckles. "You are safe, i swear to you."

You are safe with him.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle oneshot #frank castle #the punisher x reader #the punisher

181 notes · View notes

tosomeonessomeone · 3 months

Text

Unbound.

words・ 5.3k /pairings・Lee know x Afab!reader / genres・ slightly angst, don’t worry there is a happy ending/ warnings・ mentions of violence and a fake suicide letter.

This amazing anon send this incredible request, hope you enjoy it ✨ My darling, you made me forget my university duties just to write this amazing piece. Dear Lord, I hope you enjoy it. The credit is all yours for this amazing idea! L.MH X AFAB READER - slow burn forbidden love (slight angst) but happy ending! Also imagine the song is old😅 if you’re able to it’s set in the older days (language is more well spoken and mannered etc..) Y/N slips out the window. She was wearing a commoner outfit as a disguise. A hood over her head, given that she was the princess, her father would naturally never allow her to leave the palace grounds. She walks into the popular dive bar that she had heard about by the other commoners. She sits to the side, amazed by the man's captivating voice and performance of "Call Out My Name" by The Weeknd, but quite emotional (or any other song of your choice). She stares at the man, his voice is beautiful. The lighting is perfect and ambient, and when the charismatic singer catches her eye, seeing the awe written all over her face, he sings harder. After looking for a second longer he instantly recognises those beautiful eyes. ‘The Princess,’ he thought. (i’ve left it open if you’d like to carry on this scene!) A fresh prisoner was later thrown into a cell a few days later. Upon realising the lyrics that echoed the cold walls, one of the many prisoners was singing very quietly as she walked by, the princess asks the guards who it was, to which they respond that it was a new prisoner who entered the castle grounds without permission. She gives the order for all the guards to leave and enters the prisoner holding area. The singing paused, "Princess," was murmured from the dark cell. THE REST IS UP TO YOU :D if you’re confused the singer is Minho! ✨

Y/N's heart raced as she slipped out of the castle window, the cool night air enveloping her in a cloak of secrecy. Dressed in a simple commoner's attire, she pulled the hood over her head, concealing her identity from the prying eyes of the palace guards. Her father, the king, would never approve of her nocturnal excursions into the bustling town below.

Stepping onto the cobblestone streets, Y/N marveled at the sights and sounds of the common folk going about their lives. Lanterns cast a warm glow, illuminating the narrow alleyways and quaint shops that lined the bustling marketplace.

Guided by whispers and rumors, Y/N found herself drawn to a dimly lit pub tucked away in a quiet corner of the town. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, she was greeted by the scent of ale and the soft murmur of conversation. The atmosphere was alive with anticipation, the air thick with the promise of secrets waiting to be uncovered.

Taking a seat in the shadows, Y/N watched as the crowd hushed, their attention drawn to the stage where a lone figure stood bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. His presence commanded the room, his voice weaving a spell that held everyone captive.

As the first notes of the song filled the air, Y/N's breath caught in her throat. It was a melody she had never heard before, yet it stirred something deep within her soul. Mesmerized, she watched as the singer poured his heart into each word, his voice a haunting echo of longing and desire.

And then, their eyes met.

In that fleeting moment, time stood still. The world faded away, leaving only the two of them bound by an invisible thread of fate. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she gazed into the depths of his soul, recognizing something familiar yet unknown in those dark, soulful eyes.

Lee Minho felt a jolt of recognition surge through him. Those eyes, he thought, as he continued to sing, each note infused with newfound fervor. They were the same eyes that had haunted his dreams, the ones he had glimpsed in passing at court gatherings and royal ceremonies.

The intensity of her gaze spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment of the connection they shared, hidden beneath layers of duty and expectation. For a brief moment, their worlds collided, converging in a silent understanding that defied the boundaries of status and privilege.

As the song reached its crescendo, Minho poured his soul into each verse, his voice a reflection of the emotions swirling within him. In that dimly lit pub, amidst the curious stares and whispered rumors, he sang not just for the crowd, but for her – the princess who dared to venture beyond the confines of her gilded cage.

And as the final notes hung in the air, Minho held her gaze, a silent promise echoing between them. In that fleeting moment, he knew that their encounter was no mere coincidence, but the beginning of a journey fraught with challenges and obstacles, yet brimming with the possibility of a love that transcended time and expectation.

As Y/N hurriedly made her way through the bustling streets, her heart still resonating with the echoes of Minho's soulful melody, she felt a sudden tug on her arm. Instinctively, she tensed, ready to defend herself against any potential threat that lurked in the shadows.

But as she turned to face her assailant, her breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in disbelief. Standing before her was none other than Lee Minho himself, his expression a mixture of concern and determination.

"Please, forgive my intrusion," Minho spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "but I could not let you leave without knowing... without understanding."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, torn between the thrill of his proximity and the weight of the forbidden allure that bound them together. She searched his eyes, seeking answers to the questions that lay heavy on her heart.

"What is it that you seek?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, her resolve faltering in the face of his unwavering gaze.

Minho reached out, his touch gentle yet determined, his fingers brushing against her cheek with a tenderness that ignited a spark within her soul. "I seek only the truth," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity, "I am Lee Minho, your highness."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Lee Minho knelt before her, his words reverberating with a solemnity that stirred something deep within her soul. "Rise, Minho," she whispered urgently, her voice tinged with urgency. "Please, there's no need for formalities."

Minho obeyed, rising to his feet with a grace that belied the intensity of his emotions. His eyes searched hers, a silent plea for understanding lingering in their depths.

"We must be cautious," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the din of the street. "If they were to discover my true identity, it would spell disaster for us both."

Minho nodded, his expression tinged with understanding. "Minho," Y/N whispered, her voice laden with longing and vulnerability, "please, call me by my name."

Her plea hung in the air, a fragile thread connecting them across the vast expanse of uncertainty and fear. In that moment, she longed to shed the weight of her royal title, to revel in the simple intimacy of being seen and known for who she truly was.

Minho's eyes softened at her words, a tender smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Y/N" he murmured, the sound of her name a melody that resonated deep within his soul.

As they walked through the winding streets, Y/N could feel Minho's gaze burning into her back, his questions hanging heavy in the air like unspoken secrets. She quickened her pace, her heart racing with the weight of her own uncertainties.

"Why did you sneak out of the castle, Y/N?" Minho's voice broke through the silence, his tone tinged with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Y/N paused, her steps faltering for a moment as she struggled to find the words to explain the tangled web of emotions that had led her to this moment. "I needed to escape," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "To breathe, to feel alive... even if just for a fleeting moment."

Minho's brow furrowed in confusion, his gaze searching hers for answers that even she could not fully articulate. "But why now? What drove you to take such a risk?"

Y/N hesitated, her thoughts racing as she grappled with the weight of her own desires and fears. "The walls of the castle were closing in on me," she admitted, her voice tinged with sorrow. "I needed to remind myself of who I am... of the woman beneath the crown."

Minho listened intently as Y/N spoke of the burdens she carried as the future queen of her realm, the weight of duty and expectation pressing down upon her like a heavy cloak. Though he could not fully comprehend the intricacies of her position, he knew one thing for certain – he wanted to make her feel alive, to help her rediscover the essence of who she truly was.

With each step they took through the moonlit streets, Minho sought to unravel the layers of Y/N's identity, to peel back the facade of royalty and reveal the woman hidden beneath. He understood that her heart longed for freedom, for the simple joys of life untethered by the constraints of tradition and obligation.

And so, Minho took a firm grip on her wrist, Y/N allowed herself to be led through the labyrinthine streets until they emerged into the heart of the village, where a vibrant fair was in full swing. The air was alive with the tantalizing aroma of sizzling food, the melodic strains of music, and the infectious laughter of revelers lost in the moment.

As they stepped into the bustling square, Y/N's senses were overwhelmed by the kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that surrounded them. Colorful banners fluttered in the breeze, casting playful shadows against the cobblestone streets, while vendors beckoned with trays of steaming delicacies and glittering trinkets.

Minho's eyes sparkled with mischief as he surveyed the lively scene, his smile infectious as he offered Y/N his hand, inviting her to join in the festivities. Without hesitation, she accepted, her heart pounding with excitement as they wove their way through the throng of people, their laughter mingling with the joyful cacophony of the crowd.

They sampled exotic dishes from far-off lands, their taste buds tingling with the flavors of adventure and discovery. They danced to the rhythm of the music, their bodies swaying in perfect harmony beneath the starlit sky. And amidst the chaos and revelry, they found a moment of peace, a respite from the demands of the world beyond.

For Y/N, it was a glimpse of the life she had always longed for – a life unfettered by the constraints of royalty, where she could revel in the simple pleasures of the present moment.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Y/N found solace in the clandestine meetings with Minho, each encounter a precious treasure hidden away from the prying eyes of the world. Sneaking out of the castle became a ritual, a secret escape into a world where titles and expectations held no sway, where she could simply be herself, free from the weight of her crown.

In Minho, she found not only a kindred spirit but a true friend – someone who saw beyond the facade of royalty and embraced her for the woman she truly was. Together, they laughed and talked, sharing dreams and secrets beneath the twinkling stars, their bond growing stronger with each stolen moment.

In Minho's company, Y/N discovered the beauty of simplicity, the joy of living in the present moment. Whether they were strolling through the bustling marketplace or sharing a quiet meal by the riverbank, every experience was imbued with a sense of wonder and possibility, a testament to the transformative power of love.

And amidst the laughter and the shared moments, Y/N felt something stirring deep within her heart – a flutter of emotion that defied rational explanation. Was it admiration? Affection? Perhaps even love? She dared not speak its name, afraid to confront the tumultuous sea of emotions that threatened to consume her fragile heart.

But in the quiet moments of solitude, as she lay awake beneath the cover of darkness, she allowed herself to entertain the possibility – the possibility that in Minho, she had found not only a friend but a soulmate, someone who understood her in a way no one else ever could.

And as she looked to the future, uncertain yet filled with promise, Y/N knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, she would face them with Minho by her side, their love a beacon of hope in a world shrouded by darkness. For in him, she had found not only friendship but the true essence of her own heart.

As the moon cast its silvery glow over the labyrinthine streets, Y/N ventured out into the night, her heart heavy with anticipation and longing. With each step, she searched every familiar corner, every hidden alcove, hoping to catch a glimpse of Minho's familiar figure amidst the shadows.

But the streets remained empty, devoid of his presence, and the silence echoed with the hollow ache of disappointment. She dared not speak to anyone, fearing the consequences of being recognized, of having her secret world exposed to the unforgiving light of day.

With a heavy heart, Y/N retraced her steps, her footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy upon her shoulders, casting a shadow over the once-familiar landscape. And as she returned to the confines of the castle, a sense of loneliness enveloped her like a suffocating shroud, the emptiness of her heart echoing in the cavernous halls.

In the solitude of her chambers, Y/N allowed herself to succumb to the melancholy that threatened to consume her, her thoughts consumed by the absence of the one person who had come to mean so much to her. She wondered where he was, what had kept him from their clandestine rendezvous, and whether he was safe.

The very next day as Y/N made her way through the dimly lit corridors near the dungeon, the haunting melody of the prisoner's song echoed against the cold stone walls, tugging at the strings of her heart with an inexplicable urgency. Ignoring the curious glances of the guards, she pressed forward, driven by a sense of determination that burned bright within her chest.

Reaching the entrance to the prisoner holding area, Y/N issued a commanding order, her voice steady despite the tremor of uncertainty that lingered beneath the surface. "Leave us," she commanded, her words carrying the weight of authority.

The guards exchanged wary glances but obeyed, their footsteps echoing into the distance until only silence remained, broken only by the soft strains of the prisoner's song.

With each step she took, Y/N's heart pounded in anticipation, her pulse quickening with the knowledge that she was about to come face to face with the mysterious singer who had captured her attention so completely.

And then, she saw him – a solitary figure huddled in the darkness of his cell, his features obscured by shadows yet somehow familiar. As their eyes met, a shiver of recognition coursed through Y/N's veins, her breath catching in her throat at the realization of who stood before her.

"Princess," his voice was barely a whisper, filled with a mixture of reverence and disbelief.

Y/N's heart quickened as she stepped closer to the cell, the dim torchlight flickering against the cold stone walls. "Minho," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the stillness of the dungeon.

Lee Minho stood up slowly, his eyes adjusting to the sudden presence of light. His rugged features softened as he gazed at the princess standing before him, her regal demeanor contrasting with the darkness surrounding them.

"Princess, what are you doing here?" Minho's voice was hoarse, filled with a mixture of surprise and concern.

Y/N reached through the iron bars, her fingers trembling as they brushed against the rough surface. "What are YOU doing here?!" Y/N's voice trembled with a mixture of concern and disbelief as she confronted Minho through the iron bars. Her heart raced with a myriad of emotions, each one vying for dominance in the tumultuous sea of her thoughts.

Minho's expression softened, a flicker of sadness dancing in his eyes as he met Y/N's gaze. "I... I had no choice," he confessed, his voice heavy with regret. "I was caught trying to enter the castle grounds without permission. They saw me as a threat, a trespasser in their world."

Y/N's heart ached at the pain in his voice, the weight of his words sinking deep into her soul. "But why, Minho?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion and desperation. "Why would you risk everything to come here?"

Minho's gaze met Y/N's, his eyes reflecting the tumult of emotions swirling within his soul. "Because I couldn't bear to be apart from you," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion. "Every moment without you feels like an eternity, every heartbeat a reminder of the void you've left in my life."

Minho watched in astonishment as Y/N, the princess, rose to her feet with a newfound sense of determination, her regal presence commanding the attention of all who stood witness to the scene unfolding before them. In that moment, he saw her in a different light – not just as the object of his affection, but as a leader, a force to be reckoned with.

With unwavering resolve, Y/N turned to the guards, her voice ringing out with authority. "Release him," she commanded, her words carrying the weight of her station.

The guards hesitated, their eyes flickering between the princess and the prisoner, uncertainty etched upon their faces. But they knew better than to defy her direct order, and with a solemn nod, they set to work unlocking the heavy iron bars that had held Minho captive.

As Minho stepped into the cool night air, his heart heavy with the weight of their parting, Y/N remained standing in the dimly lit dungeon, her gaze fixed upon the empty cell that had once held the key to her heart. In that moment, she felt a sense of resolve wash over her, a determination to defy the odds and carve out a future where their love could thrive.

With unwavering determination, she whispered softly to Minho's retreating figure, her voice barely above a whisper yet filled with conviction. "Go," she urged, her words carrying the weight of her resolve. "Find sanctuary beyond these walls, and know that I will find a way for us to be together."

Minho turned back, his eyes widening in disbelief at the promise that hung in the air between them. In Y/N's unwavering gaze, he saw the reflection of his own hopes and dreams, a beacon of light in the darkness that threatened to engulf them both.

With a silent nod of gratitude, Minho disappeared into the shadows, his heart filled with renewed hope and determination. For in Y/N's whispered vow, he found the promise of a future where their love could flourish, unfettered by the constraints of duty and expectation.

As days turned into weeks, Minho's heart grew heavy with each passing moment of silence from the princess. Despite the whispered promises and vows of devotion, he couldn't shake the gnawing sense of unease that lingered at the edges of his consciousness. The absence of communication weighed heavily upon him, casting a shadow over his hopes for their future together.

Meanwhile, within the walls of the castle, rumors began to swirl like tendrils of smoke, carrying whispers of the princess's forbidden love. With each passing day, the whispers grew louder, the truth of Y/N's affection for a commoner spreading like wildfire through the halls of power.

As the rumors reached the king's ears, his rage knew no bounds. His daughter, the princess, the future queen of the realm, entangled in a romance with a mere commoner – it was a betrayal of the highest order, a stain upon the honor of the royal family.

Fueled by fury and righteous indignation, the king's wrath knew no bounds. He raged against the injustice of it all, his mind consumed by visions of betrayal and defiance. The very thought of his daughter consorting with a commoner filled him with a sense of profound betrayal, a wound that cut deeper than any sword.

Alone in the grand chamber, Y/N stood before her father, the king, her heart heavy with the weight of his disappointment and fury. The air crackled with tension, the echoes of his rage reverberating against the ornate walls adorned with symbols of their noble lineage.

Her father's voice boomed through the chamber, each word a thunderous indictment of her actions, a condemnation of the love that had led her astray. "You have brought disgrace upon our family name," he roared, his voice laced with anger and betrayal. "To consort with a commoner, to forsake your duty as a princess – it is a betrayal of the highest order."

Y/N stood in silence, her gaze fixed upon the floor, her heart heavy with the weight of his words. She had known that defying her father's wishes would come with consequences, but she had never imagined the depth of his fury, the extent of his disappointment.

As the king's tirade continued, Y/N felt a surge of defiance rising within her, a quiet resolve to stand firm in the face of adversity. She would not apologize for following her heart, for daring to love someone who saw her for who she truly was, beyond the trappings of royalty and duty.

With a quiet resolve, she met her father's gaze, her eyes burning with a fire that refused to be extinguished. "Father," she began, her voice steady despite the tremor of fear that lingered beneath the surface. "I cannot deny the depth of my feelings. I cannot forsake the one who has captured my heart, even if it means defying your wishes."

The king's eyes flashed with fury, his expression darkening with anger at her defiance. "You dare to defy me, your own father, your king?" he thundered, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and outrage. "Know this, daughter – if you dare to see this commoner again, I will have him executed without hesitation."

Y/N's heart clenched at the weight of his words, the enormity of his threat looming large in her mind. She knew that to defy him would mean risking everything – not only her own life but the life of the man she loved.

And yet, even as she stood on the precipice of uncertainty, she knew that she could not turn her back on Minho, could not abandon the one who had shown her the true meaning of love and acceptance. For in his arms, she had found sanctuary, a refuge from the storm that raged within her soul.

With a silent vow, Y/N braced herself for the trials that lay ahead, knowing that no matter the challenges they faced, she and Minho would face them together, united in their love and unwavering in their resolve. And as she turned to leave the chamber, her heart heavy with the weight of their forbidden love, she knew that their bond would endure, steadfast and unyielding, bound by the unbreakable ties of their hearts.

Under the cover of darkness, Y/N stole away from the castle, her heart heavy with the weight of her decision. In the quiet stillness of the night, she left behind the only life she had ever known, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridors like whispers of a farewell.

With each step, the weight of her father's threats pressed down upon her, a suffocating burden that threatened to consume her spirit. The thought of a life without Minho, without the freedom to love and be loved, filled her with a profound sense of despair.

And so, with trembling hands and a resolve born of desperation, Y/N penned a letter, her words a silent testament to the depth of her anguish. In it, she confessed her decision to end her own life, to escape the tyranny of her father's wrath and find peace in the quiet embrace of death.

Leaving the letter behind as a silent farewell, Y/N fled into the night, her heart heavy with grief yet kept by a glimmer of hope. With nothing but the clothes on her back and a small pouch of coins clutched tightly in her hand, she set out into the unknown, determined to carve out a new life for herself, far from the shadows of the past.

As the first light of dawn broke upon the horizon, Y/N disappeared into the embrace of the night, her fate unknown, her heart aching with the weight of her decision. And as she vanished into the depths of the unknown, she knew that her journey was just beginning – a journey fraught with peril and uncertainty, yet filled with the promise of redemption and renewal.

As Y/N slipped through the quiet streets, her heart pounding with each step, she knew that her destination lay in the arms of the one she loved. With every passing moment, the weight of her decision pressed down upon her, a heavy burden that threatened to crush her spirit.

And then, as she reached the familiar threshold of Minho's dwelling, her heart leaped with anticipation, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him standing before her. In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, the world fading away until only the two of them remained, bound by the invisible threads of fate and forbidden love.

Minho's eyes widened in disbelief as he beheld the vision before him, his heart stuttering in his chest at the sight of Y/N standing there, her presence a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf them both. He couldn't believe his eyes, couldn't fathom the reality of her standing there before him, her beauty illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight.

Unable to speak, unable to move, Minho stood rooted to the spot, his gaze locked with hers in a silent exchange of longing and desperation. In that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the echo of their hearts beating as one, the promise of a love that defied the boundaries of time and circumstance.

And as Y/N stepped forward, her hand outstretched in silent invitation, Minho knew that this was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment when their love would transcend the trials and tribulations that had threatened to tear them apart. With trembling hands, he reached out to her, his fingers intertwining with hers in a silent vow of solidarity and devotion.

In the throes of emotion, Minho's heart pulsed with an urgency he couldn't contain. With a surge of longing and determination, he closed the distance between them, his hand tenderly cupping Y/N's cheek as he drew her closer.

In a moment of pure desperation and unbridled passion, their lips met in a fervent kiss, a culmination of all the longing and yearning that had simmered between them for so long. It was a kiss filled with the intensity of their love, a silent declaration of their unwavering commitment to each other.

In that fleeting instant, time seemed to stand still, the world falling away as they lost themselves in the intoxicating embrace of each other's lips. It was a kiss born of desperation and longing, a testament to the depth of their connection and the power of their love.

And as they finally pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, their eyes met in a silent exchange of understanding and devotion. In that moment, amidst the quiet intimacy of their shared embrace, Minho and Y/N knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, they would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of their love.

As Y/N revealed her plans to Minho, her words hung heavy in the air, each syllable carrying the weight of her decision. With trembling hands, she showed him the sack of coins, a symbol of their newfound freedom, a chance to start anew in a world untainted by the constraints of royalty.

As she spoke of her letter, her voice quivered with emotion, the weight of her words a stark reminder of the sacrifices she had made to be with him. "I am dead to my royal life," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "But with you, Minho, I am alive in ways I never thought possible."

Minho's heart swelled with a mixture of awe and disbelief, his mind reeling at the magnitude of her sacrifice. To leave behind everything she had ever known, to forsake her birthright in pursuit of a love that defied the boundaries of tradition and expectation – it was a testament to the depth of her devotion, a testament to the power of their love.

In that moment, amidst the quiet intimacy of their shared revelation, Minho knew that he had found not only a lover but a kindred spirit, a soulmate who understood the true essence of his being. With tears glistening in his eyes, he reached out to Y/N, his fingers brushing against her cheek in a silent gesture of solidarity and acceptance.

"Together, we will forge a new path," he vowed, his voice tinged with reverence and gratitude. "A path free from the shackles of our past, free to love and be loved without fear or reservation."

With a sense of urgency driving his every movement, Minho hurried to gather the few possessions he had accumulated over the years. His hands moved with purpose as he packed the essentials into a bag, his mind focused on the task at hand – to ensure that they had everything they needed for their journey into the unknown.

As he secured the last item into the bag, Minho's heart swelled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. This was it – the moment they had been waiting for, the chance to leave behind the confines of their old lives and embark on a new adventure together.

With a sense of determination coursing through his veins, Minho led their horse to where Y/N stood waiting, her eyes filled with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. Gently, he helped her onto the horse, his hands steady as he settled himself behind her, their bodies fitting together as if they were made for each other.

As they checked to ensure that they had everything they needed, Minho felt a surge of excitement building within him. They were leaving behind the familiar comforts of home, venturing into the great unknown with nothing but each other to guide them.

With a silent nod of reassurance, Minho urged the horse forward, their journey unfolding before them like a tapestry waiting to be woven. And as they rode off into the distance, their hearts filled with hope and determination, they knew that no matter what lay ahead, they would face it together, united in their love and unwavering in their resolve.

As they rode away from the village, Minho and Y/N stole one last glance over their shoulders, their eyes lingering on the familiar sights of the world they were leaving behind. The village, with its winding streets and bustling marketplace, seemed to shimmer in the fading light of dusk, a testament to the life they had known, the life they were leaving behind.

And there, in the distance, loomed the imposing silhouette of the castle, its turrets reaching toward the sky like sentinels guarding the secrets of the past. For Y/N, it was a symbol of duty and tradition, a reminder of the life she had been born into but could no longer abide.

But as they rode further and further away, the castle and the village began to fade into the distance, their outlines blurred by the passage of time and the promise of a new beginning. In that moment, amidst the quiet stillness of the evening, Minho and Y/N knew that they were leaving behind more than just a place – they were leaving behind the constraints of their old lives, the expectations that had bound them for so long.

With each passing moment, the horizon stretched out before them, a vast expanse of possibility and adventure waiting to be explored. And as they rode into the unknown, their hearts filled with hope and anticipation, they knew that no matter what lay ahead, they would face it together, united in their love and unwavering in their resolve.

For in each other's arms, they had found the courage to defy the odds, to carve out a future that was uniquely their own. And as they disappeared into the fading light of the evening, their hearts ablaze with the promise of tomorrow, they knew that their love would be the guiding light that led them through the darkness, a beacon of hope in a world filled with uncertainty.

76 notes · View notes

the-possum-writes · 10 months

Text

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

❥Character: Patrick O'Hara (Web Slinger)

❥Fandom: Spiderverse

❥Tags: NSFW, gen!neutral reader, unspecified g*nitalia, PWP, sweetheart as a pet name

❥Synopsis: Imagine being new to the spider society and after meeting Web Slinger you're immediately smitten and whisper to yourself. "Uff, I wouldn't mind riding that cowboy to save a horse." And next thing you know he's got you cornered and say. "I heard you like saving horses."

❥A/n: I would've liked to write relationship hcs first but I would need to investigate more, so enjoy this P/with plot. 🤠

Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined riding a spider horse beside a cowboy in a society of spider people, as if being bitten by a radioactive spider wasn't bizarre enough. The trip on his horse Widow is undoubtedly bumpy, but after talking with Web Slinger, he's been nothing but charismatic and charming, so when he offered you a ride, you were quick to accept, especially now that you're able to wrap your arms around this athletic build.

"First time riding a horse?" You tighten your grip on Web Slinger's strong midsection as his horse suddenly turns sharply to race on the underside of a staircase. If you played your cards well, your hands might "accidentally" slide a few times simply to run them over his abdomen.

"No, but in my world, horses don't exactly gallop across the ceilings." You cough and chuckle, trying not to look down as the blood rushes to your head from being upside down.

"It's just like any other horse. Though, you're going to have to grab on tighter for this part." even though his tone is stern, you get the impression he's smiling under his bandana as Widow dashed through plenty passageways. Web Slinger climbs off first and helps you down after noting how unsteady you are after the trip after a few dizzying jumps later Widow comes to a rest as you quickly reach at the location where you file for one of those multidimensional gadgets.

"How are you feeling, partner? Widow was just trying to show off; we don't typically provide joyrides." Widow neighs with a contented breath as Web Slinger apologizes.

"I'm fine; I just need a minute or two." Even though you feel as though the world is spinning, you can't really complain because you got to share body heat with this charming guy. Web Slinger may come off as stern and unwelcome at first, but he has been an absolute gentleman. He may make fun of you occasionally, but how can you be mad when it results in a hug?

"How about you take a breather while I fetch you some water, I won't take long!" and with that he pulls out one of his guns and web swings himself to the nearest vending machine.

Leaning against Widow, you take a moment to calm yourself down. You briefly close your eyes to gather your thoughts before Widow's mane hairs begin to tickle your nose. "Heh, you're really quite something, aren't ya girl? You stroke beneath her head and hear her let out a breath, "You're lucky to be his partner, I know I'd love to spend more time with him. Between you and me, I'd definitely ride that cowboy to save a horse," you chuckle softly to yourself, realizing how ridiculous you must look chatting raunchy topics with a horse. Web Slinger returns with a bottle of water, which he throws to you as you catch it with one hand, and you immediately stop talking.

He inquires, "Are you feeling any better?"

"Definitely, after talking to your buddy here, it helped." You lightly pat Widow's side.

"Oh? Is that true? Web Slinger briefly held Widow's head in his hands as if speaking to her, and from the sound of his voice and the way his eye mask moved, it appears like he is interested in what is being said. Which you hoped wasn't a thing.

You make a joke, "Yeah... she's very talkative."

He played along, saying, "Huh, good things about me I hope."

You didn't like the way his voice changed since it seemed like he was on to you, but you had no way of knowing, so you instantly changed the subject. "Anyway! I should get moving so Miguel doesn't come up and chastise me for not wearing a bracelet, hah! By the way, thanks a lot."

"No problem, you know how to reach me if you need help with anything else." As Widow begins a quick gallop, Web Slinger taps his bracelet and tilts his hat to say goodbye before you turn around and go your own ways. However, the manner he is holding the reins behind you causes him to stop moving, and Widow stopped moving when she felt what her rider was thinking.

You anticipated that it would be some time before you saw Web Slinger again, but to your surprise, he came looking for you right after you received your new, sparkly bracelet. In fact, you were tinkering with it when he arrived. He approached you from behind, coming up to you on foot, saying, "Looking quite fancy."

"Thanks Spider "Byte said it should help with the glitching and traveling," you say as you turn around to face him. "Speaking of which, where's that partner of yours?" you ask, referring to the horse.

"Widow is at the cafeteria, she loves the empanadas there, in fact you should try them sometime." Web Slinger mentions with a small laugh before pausing briefly. "But also, she wanted to give me some privacy so we could talk."

"And what do you wanna talk about that not even your horse isn't here? You two seem inseparable." you ask of him, but while you kept questioning it inside your head you didn't notice how there was less and less people around you two.

"Well you're right on that, you see, we were both bitten by the same spider so we have this mental link I call Rider sense," while the man gave his explanation you two turn the corner in a secluded hallway. "And let's just say a little spider told me you have a thing for 'saving horses~" he purposely blocked your left side with a single arm, leaning closer for dramatic effect. Back in your universe you recognize it as a kabedon.

The realization became apparent in your expression, even if you were wearing a mask or not. But there's advantages to being cornered, especially for a spider. "What can I say? I'm quite the animal activist." you lower your voice a bit, drawing him close enough to walk you fingers up his chest.

___

Riding a cowboy can't compare to riding a horse, but they sure are similar enough. The wooden headboard cracks under the pressure of your grip as you hold onto dear life, you're lucky Web Slinger took you to a secluded cabin in his universe cause it's imposible to contain the unholy noises coming from you when bouncying on the mighty steed that is Patrick O'Hara's cock.

"Slingeeer...! Fuck..." you lower your hands to his bare chest, your fingertip twitching on the few hairs scattered over his pectorals.

"Patrick, the names Patrick." he tells you with a strangled grunt. Web Slinger's is currently laying on his back as you ride him senseless, even if that spider bite gave you inhuman strength this man still has your legs cramping as you keep up with his own speed, he helps you by firmly holding your hips with his bare hands like the leather straps on Widow's harness but instead it's to keep you steady as the friction between your joined sexes becomes slippery and heated. Normally you'd hold on for longer but there's something about the angle of his raw cock inside you, the smell of sweat and the insinuating creaking of the bed that has you coming close all over this cowboy.

"God, you're so tight-" Web Slinger struggles to regulate his rhythm as he reaches his end as you milk his needy cock. He immediately sits up to wrap his tan arms around you, ramming inside you desperately as he chases his own high.

"...Patrick... PATRICK!" the edge of your climax catches up to you and doesn't let you string out anything that isn't helpless whining.

You didn't think his voice could get any hotter due to that old timey accent but you're proven wrong when he comes inside you with an array of deep growls and breathy sighs, hearing your name in between a few whispers. "That's it, so good for me, fuck, FUCK." even though he stayed still for a while Patrick still held a nice hold on you, bringing you down with him as he collapses back into the worn out mattress and tangled sheets.

"So... what you think sweetheart?" Patrick asks , propping himself on an elbow as he gives you a lazy smile.

"Wow, just wow." you exasperate. "I mean.. It's been a while since I had this much fun during a joyride." you attempt to comb your sweaty hair only to find Patrick's hat on your head, tossing it away with a laugh as you forgot you were wearing that thing.

"Expect nothing less with me sweetheart," he traces his fingertips over the side of your body, enjoying the afterglow.

#Patrick O'Hara x reader #patrick o'hara #Spiderverse #web slinger #spiderman beyond the spiderverse #webslinger x reader

268 notes · View notes