#you leave for work and come back after 8 hours and he's in the exact same spot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

urrockstar-xe · 3 months

Text

forgotten valentines - p.parker x gn!reader

posted feb 1st, 2024 8:14 am.

heres the first day of my countdown to valentines day! whether ur single or just love these silly characters, i hope u enjoy :)

summary: upon the couple stumbling home from working late, reader and peter both realize they've forgotten all about the heart shaped holiday. Not proofread, may have use of Y/n.

masterlist

wordcount: 1.5k

It was nearing 10 pm when you finally made it home, wanting nothing more than to sit down and use your boyfriend as a human-weighted blanket, but just as you opened the front door you heard shuffling down the hall of your apartment complex, turning to look who was coming and seeing the boyfriend in question, Peter sighed heavily once you both made eye contact, earning a chuckle from you as you entered your apartment, Peter following not too far behind.

“That wasn’t planned?” you joked quietly, turning on a few lights so it didn’t feel so late that you’d have to whisper. Peter’s quiet laugh filled your ears as he headed for the fridge, opening it up with a sluggish movement. “No, fate just keeps on tugging us towards each other” He teased back, pulling out two sodas before shutting the door with his elbow.

You pulled off your coat, abandoning it by the door and making yourself comfortable on the couch. Peter soon joined you after taking off his own coat and shoes, he handed you one of the cans, already opened. You leaned into Peter’s side, causing him to throw his arm around your shoulders happily. The clock read 10:12 PM as you flipped through the channels trying to find something to watch.

“There is a lot of 50 Shades of Grey going on,” Peter said upon realizing how many channels had the 50 Shades movies playing along with every other channel playing romcoms and old romantic dramas. “Yeah, what’s this all about?” you wondered out loud, then the realization hit.

“Oh my god, Peter it’s Valentine's Day!” You sat up, looking at Peter with wide eyes as he checked his phone and his jaw fell, matching your expression now as the date confirmed it.

“I didn’t even realize it was February” Peter whispered, thinking out loud as you stood up, his eyes following your movements. “Okay, well, we’ve got 2 hours left,” You said, watching him nod in response.

“It’s too late to grab flowers and chocolate” Peter’s voice was laced with a guilty tone as he spoke, remorse-filled puppy eyes staring up at you. You smiled down at him, hands coming to rest on either side of his face, “That’s okay, it’ll all be on sale by tomorrow morning” Your reassurance and soft touch brought a smile to Peter’s face, “besides, you’re here and not out there” you motioned towards the window, exposing the city of queens who didn’t get the privilege of Spider-man tonight.

Because you did.

“Will you be my valentine?” Peter asked with a goofy grin on his face, that only grew when you laughed, giving him the exact reaction he had wanted. You nodded, “I’d be happy to be your Valentine, Peter” He smiled at you in return, standing up and causing you both to be nearly chest to chest with the action.

“C’mon, then, we’ve got a date to prepare for” Peter whispered, planting a kiss on your forehead before leaving the soft moment, walking back to the kitchen. You smiled, abandoning the two barely touched soda cans as you switched off the TV and went to look for a Vinyl to play on your old record player.

Neither of you had the sharpest memory but that never stopped you from being a damn good team, and times like these always did so well at reminding you both of this sweet fact.

The soft and not-too-loud music filled your small apartment once you finally made your decision. You made your way into the small kitchen as Peter rustled around the pantry looking for something to cook, “we could do pasta!” he exclaimed, too excited about finding something to make, before closing the pantry door and setting the bowtie noodles on the counter, turning to look for ingredients for the sauce. “What kind are we making?” you asked with an amused look on your face, hopping up onto the counter as you watched Peter move around the room.

“Whichever kind we have the ingredients for,” Peter said, laughing with you as you slid off the counter despite having just barely sat down. “I’ll boil the noodles” Peter hummed in acknowledgment of your announcement, the sound of him clumsily moving behind you filled your ears and blended perfectly with the music, this was perfect.

“Spaghetti it is!” Peter mumbled to himself before turning around, standing directly behind you as he went to turn on the burner beside the one you were using to boil water. You couldn’t have missed his hand resting on your side if you tried, even if he didn’t squeeze lightly every few seconds. Peter stood there longer than he needed, watching the flame on the left burner while you poured noodles into the pot on the right burner.

“Just makin’ sure you’re doin’ it right, doll,” Peter explained with a small smirk on his face as if he was reading your thoughts. You scoffed, smiling, “Why don’t you start the sauce so we can have dinner before midnight, yeah?” You asked in a similar teasing tone, not even attempting to hide your heart eyes as you glanced at him. Peter laughed in response, nodding and turning to continue his job for dinner, leaving the spot where his hand sat on your side feeling cold and empty despite your hoodie covering it.

You both stood wordlessly as you worked, eventually stopping the right burner and allowing Peter to help you drain the water with a strainer before mixing the noodles in with the sauce, “10:57, I think we’re doin’ pretty good on time, what do you think?” Peter smiled at you as you pulled out two bowls, “I think you’re gonna burn our only food option if you don’t turn off the stove” you teased, before smiling back. “We just make a good team” Your second response was more genuine, earning a nod as Peter looked away to turn off the left burner, his smile softening. “Yeah, a great team.”

Together you both set up the table, giggling when Peter ran off to get the candle before setting it down in the middle. “There’s just something missing,” Peter mumbled, watching you sit down at the small table just enough for two people, which is all you needed.

“I’ll be right back” Before you could argue Peter had run off again, this time to your shared bedroom before stumbling out a few moments later tugging on his suit. “Peter, what are you-” “Don’t start eating yet!” he pointed at you, pulling on his mask with one hand, ignoring the sound of your laughter as he struggled. You watched with an amused expression as he left out the window, the clock now reading 11:09, it’s still early enough to wait so you took it upon yourself to get up and light the candle, along with getting out anything you had to make the rocky road ice cream in the freezer more fun and setting it on the counter.

The sound of the window closing caught your attention, “Look! Ice cream bar!” You said, smiling proudly at your presentation before turning back to your boyfriend just as he pulled off the mask, out of breath and a proud smile settled on his lips too.

“Look!” he imitated your tone, pulling flowers from behind his back, a little droopy and absolutely taken from your upstairs neighbor, Mrs. Baker’s windowsill, but still perfect. “Flowers!” he finished, both of you laughing before you pulled out a mason jar, filling it with water, and setting it beside the candle. Peter put the 4 dainty white daisies in, smiling at you as he pulled your chair out for you.

“I love the ice cream bar,” He praised your work, sitting across from you while immediately reaching for your hand, and you happily gave it to him. “I love the flowers,” You responded, honey dripping off the words with how sweet you spoke, blissfully happy in this moment.

“This is perfect! Who needs plans for Valentine’s Day when we’re as great as we are!” Peter said, almost moaning as he finally took a bite of his food. You laughed at his reaction before trying your own. “Last minute dates are our thing, so.” You teased, earning an unserious glare from your guilty boyfriend.

“I love them though” You reassured, squeezing his hand.

Peter squeezed back and leaned forward as if to tell you a secret as he softly spoke, “I love you” His gaze was as loving as ever and it was all yours, it was as if he was telling you with his eyes that it always would be.

“I love you more”

“Impossible”

His immediate response was too cute to argue no matter how badly you wanted to, but instead, you leaned forward just enough to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Peter sighed at the sweetness of it all, closing his eyes and shaking his head as you sat back down.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart”

#tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #the amazing spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #tasm x reader #andrew!peter x reader #andrew!peter parker x reader #Spotify

217 notes · View notes

itsgodepi · 4 months

Text

If I lose my mind | Ch. 8

Series summary: When life has given you more than enough lemons and you cannot figure out how to make a lemonade, the only way to make it work is to get rid of the whole basket. But was it neccesary to send you to a whole different dimension for that? A juicer would have done the job, really. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 5.4k Also on AO3

“Your things arrived a few days ago, the... uh, what’s it called in English? The portier?” Charles questions with furrowed brows, repeating the French word once again, much slower and carefully, so you can have a fair try at guessing its meaning

It takes you a second to give a meaning to what he is trying to say, “Is it like the one that manages the building, kind of?”, the exact word he refers to not coming to mind no matter how much you try. Your mental dictionary is running a bit low after everything went down today.

“Yeah, that’s it” he smiles at you over his shoulder, leading you out of the elevator and into a small corridor. The suitcase’s wheels clattering across the black tiles, following your path to one of the apartments’ doors, number 7 “What, you know French now?”

“No, no, I wish” you laugh, shaking your head at the possibility that you would ever understand any other word in that language “It just sounds similar to the word in Spanish, portero”

Charles opens the door before answering, a sight that leaves you open-mouthed being discovered before you. You do not know in what to focus first, if the sight of the tall buildings and the port drawn out in the floor to ceiling windows or the expensive looking furniture that decorates the rest of the room “Well, you’ve come to the best place to learn”

Because yes, you have in fact encountered the perfect opportunity to learn the language. After all you'll be living in Monaco for at least ten days before going back to the crazy life of a Formula One driver. That is enough time to grasp a bit of French or drive yourself crazy, we’ll see which one of the two comes first.

Your morning had started with a chain of events that leaned more towards the second option. You had woken up in the late morning, the warmth of the soft bedsheets and the darkness provided by the thick curtains almost fooling you into believing you had finally escaped this bizarre dream, that you were back home, and your alarm was pushing you out of bed for your practices. There would be an awful day ahead of you, but at least a real one.

But that hope was short lived.

Instead of your alarm, that ringing noise turns out to be coming from the hotel’s phone, a man on the other line animatedly informing you that this is your wakeup call and to have a great day when you pick it up. Apparently, Nick had been the one to request the service, sceptic that you would make it in time to the airport without him nagging you about it. The exact same reason why he had prepared for a car to be waiting outside for you at least an hour before, just in case.

Charles and Carlos are already waiting when you arrive to Budapest’s airport, inside a very expensive looking waiting room that hosts only the few people travelling alongside you. Yeah, it seems like flying private actually means flying private, with all the special commodities that brings. However, it also means that the first time you hear what country you are heading to is when you are strapped down to your seat and about to take off. Monaco seems alright, doesn’t it?

“He called me like, right before FP2, back in France, because a couple of suitcases had arrived for me.” Charles continues recounting the events of last Friday, inviting you in and taking the heavy bag that you insisted on carrying from you “I wasn’t expecting anything, so I almost turned them all away, all your luggage for the break! Seriously, you have to text me or something next time you send your things over...”

Mindlessly, you give in to his nagging and apologise for not warning him beforehand “Sorry, my mind’s been all over the place lately”, even if you have no idea what those things he is complaining about are or what that implication for a next time actually means. It is easier this way.

Charles seems to perfectly understand what you are saying, the confession about the hardships you have been facing holding a deeper meaning for him than you could ever fathom “I know, it’s okay”, but he does not even know half of what you are going through

After weeks upon weeks of waking up alone in a cold and unfamiliar hotel room —what little belongings you have pushed to a corner and some clothes thrown over a chair—, it is not surprising that the sight of Charles Leclerc sleepily going through the kitchen’s cabinets makes you feel all warm inside. The man is wearing a white baggy shirt and blue shorts, his hair a mess and lips pursed in concentration.

He turns around as soon as he hears you padding through the corridor, a grin slowly taking over his expression “Good morning! Did you sleep well? I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No no, it’s alright, I’ve been up for a while” you calm him down, walking up to the countertop and awkwardly leaning on it. Unlike him, you are already dressed up and pretty clear-headed, you never know what your mind is going to put you through in this new day. Your room is pretty far apart from the kitchen and his room too, there is no way you could have heard him with how huge huge his apartment is “And you? How did you sleep?”

“Great, it always feels nice being back home” Charles prepares the rest of the breakfast while you chat away, inviting you to sit on one of the highchairs at the other side of the countertop when you do so much as try to help him fix the dishes. He somehow knows exactly what to prepare for you, his plate and yours starkly different and yet he is not doubting a single one of his choices, as if he had done it a thousand times.

“So, what do you want to do today? I have to make a few calls but, after that, I’m all ready to go” the man explains, finally pouring himself a cup of coffee and coming to sit beside you. In response you can only give a shrug of your shoulders while you munch on the toast Charles so carefully prepared, you have no idea what is there to visit in Monaco. Thankfully, Charles has given the trip some though —well, he was bringing you to his literal hometown, how could he not?—, and in a second has your day all planned out.

The conferences take longer than expected, the driver coming to apologise over and over again when he has to shut himself off into his improvised office for another ‘final’ call. That is how the hours keep ticking by and you end up also having lunch at his apartment. “This is the last one, I promise” he swears after you both get up from the table, the leftover of two delicious dishes which appeared out of thin air, still in front of you.

You are not upset about it, not that much at least, you can understand this is his job and he needs to be on top of all these interviews and meetings —you only got a couple emails to respond and a call from Nick, but you guess this is what being in a team like Ferrari really is. Nonetheless, it does not mean it doesn’t annoy you a bit, you really had been looking forward to all the activities he had been talking to you about. Charles managed to distract you easily enough though, got you some Netflix, games and food so it all would pass in the blink of an eye.

“Oh, sixteen? That’s yours?!” you gasp, a bounce added to your step as you approach the red Formula One car placed at the entrance of the new room. The centre of your attention in a space filled with cars from every single year and brand you could ever imagine, the mirrors on the sides and covering the ceilings giving you all of the perspective of the machine.

“Of course it is, you didn’t know it was here?” Charles lets out a chuckle at your outburst, a grin now permanent on his lips as he follows you. The visit to the Prince of Monaco’s Car Collection had been worth it just for the look on your face, the fact that they kindly closed it for the two of you only adding an increased value to your reaction “They have the Alfa Romeo too”

Although you could discover what the Alfa Romeo thing meant if you moved your gaze a little bit to the left, you seemingly prefer to overlook that piece of information instead, completely entranced by the car in front of you “It looks so different...”

Possibly because everything around you is, indeed, different. After all, this is the first time you have had the opportunity to take step back and see the small details, away from the stress of the garage or the screams shaking the stands. That kind of atmosphere though, is irreplicable, the wave of emotions that fill your body as soon as you set foot into the circuit. Real or not, that is something you haven’t been able to get out of your head since this madness started.

You are unbelievable, seriously, after only two days of the break you are somehow already missing the track? Who could have told you that a month ago Wait, a month-?

“Does it? They have been making a lot of changes in the regulations lately, maybe...” Charles mumbles by your side, eyes ever so carefully looking over the car, and leaning over one of the signs on the ground, a half-smile pulling at his lips when he reads it “Oh, true, it’s the SF90! Oh my God, this one... Honestly, it wasn’t that bad of a year, I won a couple races too, but the car had so many problems. When it wasn’t the new tyres, it was the balance, then the understeering was awful at some point as well... It was just impossible to beat the Mercedes”

To finish off his explanation, Charles dismissively points with a tilt of his head to one of the Formula One cars sitting farther down the room, a Mercedes from who knows what year. Whatever, it illustrates his story just fine. Besides, this movement also allows for him to catch a peek of you from the corner of his eye, a big grin on your lips that you try to cover with a raised hand “Wait, are you laughing at me?”

“No! Of course not, I was just-” you splutter, looking up at him like a deer caught in headlights “It’s ‘cause you were, how do you say it? Like really into it? Contrated? I don’t know, I’m sorry!”

“No, no, I’m not telling you anything anymore! Go on, I’ll be quiet” Charles declares, not hearing you and acting so very much offended that you would be making fun of him. To better show his point, he starts stepping back and rises his arms to put some space between the two of you.

That is when you cannot hold you giggles anymore, the fact that he is trying to even avoid your eyes while you follow him “No, don’t say that, I promise I won’t laugh” you swear, taking a hold of his arm to stop him from walking away from you “C’mon, you’re the best tour guide!”

And maybe Charles takes that praise as a challenge, green eyes shining and cheeks full with a smile which he can’t supress no matter how hard he tries. Throughout the next few days, the Monegasque shows you the most beautiful spots of the city that saw him grow up —albeit on an intermittent basis, as he recounts the numerous trips he’s had to go on since he was a child—, a city that he adores and misses like no other. From the more touristic sites, the timetables of which he knows from A to Z and to which he has prepared private visits for each one of them, to the places that have a special place in his heart.

All of this without letting you pay a single dime, getting rejected each time you do so much as try to get your purse out, the little money you have gathered in your time in here resting inside without any prospects of ever getting spent.

It is a shame that when you are heading to one of the spots Charles has been looking forward to the most, you are caught red-handed. At first it is not as worrisome, a French fan approaches Charles for a photo and you politely step out of the way to let them take it, which catches the attention of a nearby couple that take this opportunity to ask you for a selfie —yeah, it still feels strange, even inside a dream. Maybe the husband talks a bit louder than needed about how surprised he is to see you here, or how happy he gets the moment Charles comes over to you, but after a couple of minutes you are being mobbed by half the people in Monaco. Flashes, screams and hands flying everywhere.

“It’s been a while since I last had to be rescued by the police...” Charles signs once he finally plops down on the sofa, changed into comfier clothes and the TV remote on his hand

You silently sort out the food on the small coffee table, still trying to wrap your head around what just happened, nerves tingling with the range of emotions this all brought up. It is not fear, that is something you seem to have somewhat become numb to, but something deeper. That is not something that had happened to you before, people are usually behind barriers on Grand Prixes, or they have someone better to pay attention to. This had felt truly overwhelming, suffocating even.

And yet, there it is, your lifeline. Again.

Charles’ hand comes to caress your hair after you spend a second too long in silence, hands tracing your strands as he brushes them away from your face, hand finally descending down to your neck and lightly massaging it. He had done something similar in the middle of that chaos, his hand on your arm, shoulder or back drawing tiny circles on your skin, a permanent hold that was supposed to prevent you from getting separated, but which had done so much more. “That smells great” the man whispers, leaning forward since you had chosen to knee in front of the couch.

The frown you didn’t feel forming relaxes as you look back at him, the thoughts previously swarming your head now vanished “Mm, yeah, it’s really tasty”

“What?! You’ve been stealing food while I was changing?” the Monegasque rightly accuses, disbelief painting his features

“You were taking so long!”

Charles seems to also know his way around the restaurants of Monaco, the stack of takeout you thought was way too much for two people ends up disappearing within minutes, the great amount of food you consumed leaving you to lazily lay on the couch, bellies full and watching TV after a night that had to be cut short.

The show you are watching is entertaining, you will give Charles that one, you have already gone through two and a half episodes and you can’t wait to see what happens next. It would have been even more amazing to not start it on season 3 though. It is true that Charles had started his offer to play it with a “Do you want to continue watching whatever-the-name-of-the-series-is?” and you had seen him scrolling all the way to the fourth episode of that same season without saying a word as well, but you had got accustomed to brush off things like this, like every other information from this reality that you don’t understand.

You nod and carry on with your ‘life’, that has been your modus operandi since the beginning, why change?

Thankfully, Charles gives you small explanations in the form of funny comments on every other scene, and although you don’t understand some of them, you laugh them off like anybody would do if he was looking at them the same way he does with you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you question at some point of the night, eyes fixed on the screen as if that could hide any of the unrecognizable feelings boiling within you

A chuckle slips out of his lips before he can begin answering, not fazed even slightly by your claim “You’re still so obsessed with the theme song...” Charles also meets your gaze straight on the moment you finally gather the courage to do so, not shying away from the way your big eyes stare at him “It’s cute”

A confession that catches you off-guard and to which your response is to smile and carry on, snuggling under a blanket which has made you slip that much closer to Charles. Summer nights in Monaco are cold.

About halfway into your vacation, Charles presents you with a different type of plan for the day “I’m going out with my mother and Arthur in a couple of hours... do you maybe want to come?” the way his green eyes look up at you in expectation betray his previous show of confidence, his gaze lowering to the toasts he is preparing.

The invite makes you stop in your track, hand half-way in the air with a piece of fruit you had tried to steal from one of the dishes. Honestly, from all the challenges you had expected this universe to throw at you today, not once would you have imagined that having lunch with Charles Lecler’s mom would be one of them, that’s for sure.

“Oh, your mother knows I’m here?” it is the stupidest question you could make, you are aware of it, but this seems so out of the blue —yes, you have apparently reached the point where jumping into a Formula One car feels more ordinary than whatever this is. But it’s because, like, you aren’t this close, are you? Yes, you flew with him, you are spending the break in his apartment, he has prepared your breakfast every single day, but-

“That you are staying here? Yeah, of course she knows” Charles answers, matter of fact, as if it was no big deal “But it’s okay, I know you get nervous with things like these, I can tell her you have a meeting or something”

Perhaps if the man had not been so understanding and given you such an easy way out, you would have accepted the outing, what is the worst that could have happened? That his mom was a wonderful person who had spent hours baking a typical pastry to gift you? If you had not felt bad enough this morning when declining Charles’ offer, now you sure were feeling like the worst person to ever walk on earth. Safe to say you almost tear up when you read the note she left you on the box: Enjoy your stay, my dear. I hope we’ll see each other soon. More so when his sons reveals he had to help her write it in English.

You miss your family that much more now, if that was possible.

Unfortunately, you do not encounter any other opportunity to meet Charles’ mother, the days flowing past you faster than you could have imagined. Charles has surprised you with organized trips to other cities near Monaco, from both Italy and France, every new sight he shows you more breathtaking than the last. The fact that this man, a Formula One driver for Ferrari nothing less, is swimming in money, taking the sweet little activities you had thought about to a whole other level.

Nonetheless, spending a bit more also becomes a need when you are trying to keep a low profile, neither of you want a repeat of what happened in Montecarlo —for more reasons than because it is dangerous. Which means that booking private terraces to watch the view is sometimes required, other times you get a tour through a closed section of the museum solely because they recognized him, or you, which is still something you are struggling to come to terms with, but you can’t complain.

Tonight, to properly finish off your stay in the country, Charles has invited you out to a fancy restaurant. It is built in the outskirts of Monaco, a place where the waves of the ocean are louder than the noises of the city. You get seated in open space that overlooks the sea, the quiet and elegant atmosphere of the place captivating you. You are thankful to whoever had prepared those suitcases which arrived at the apartment before you even knew you were visiting, because the black satin dress that was waiting for you inside one of them, is the perfect fit for the occasion.

The hunt for the perfect outfit had also brought a discovery that you couldn’t quite believe yet. Inside a white jewellery box that you had been carrying since the beginning and that you had not cared to open until today, you had found one of the most important pieces you ever owned, one you had been missing dearly: your grandmother’s favourite necklace. It had been a gift given to you many years ago, your grandmother’s promises of how it would make your wishes come true and protect you still echoing in your ears. Upon its discovery, you heart had skipped several beats, your hand snatching it from the box faster than you could think about it to bring it close to your chest, a place where it now proudly rested and that it would not ever leave again.

The only piece of a reality which appears evermore distant and unreachable each passing day.

The dinner is spent chatting away and tasting delicious dishes that you cannot pronounce the name of, your knight in shining armour —in this case, a navy-blue suit that fits him like a glove— saving you time and time again from embarrassing yourself trying. That gesture in itself being a blessing in disguise. It is fascinating watching Charles talk in French, sounding ever so charming speaking words you do not understand, his voice and demeanour changing when talking in his mother tongue. You have not learned a word in French, but if the hours you have spent staring at Charles talking counted, you would have the highest level.

That is some of the nonsense you keep thinking about in the way back to the apartment, your body comfortably relaxing back into the passenger seat of his Ferrari while the city lights keep flowing by your sides. The Monegasque takes his hand off the gearstick after reaching a red light, resting it atop your knee and gently squeezing it when you don’t peel your eyes off the window.

“Sleepy?” he queries in a soft voice, amused.

You shake your head in response, the “No” slipping from your lips too low to even hear it yourself. Your hand reflexively comes down to wrap around his in reassurance, an act which only manages to further confirm his suspicions.

Charles walks to your side to help you out of the car, the excuse of being sleepy —although the expensive wine and your high heels are playing a big role in your clumsy walk— useful enough for you to hold onto his arm in the way up to his apartment. The silence is nice too, calming despite the fact that it is hiding so many thoughts behind.

“So, did you have fun?” Charles is the first one to speak once you reach the parting point, even if it is only the middle of his living room and there is still time tomorrow before he takes you to the airport, it feels more important than that

“Yeah, I did, a lot. Thank you, Charles, for everything” you respond, the words coming straight from your heart, you are grateful for not only the material part of this vacation, but for how comfortable he has made you feel in this unknown reality. The man has truly made of your trip to Monaco an unforgettable experience, a memory that you will forever cherish. You hope he understand that.

Although he tries to downplay it, say how much of a good time he has had thanks to you and all of that, you are quick to shush him, repeating your thanks and not accepting any of the justifications he’s give. And he somehow lets you get away with it, that easily, a fond smile pulling at his lips while he looks down at you “Okay, okay... I’m just happy you are here, honestly”

Charles word’s startle you, your heart speeding to a hundred miles per hour in just a second. The man ignites this inexplicable feeling inside of you, one so familiar and foreign at the same time, slowly building inside of you, a warmth that threatens to overcome you at any second if you let it. This silence and closeness not helping you in the slightest.

Paired with these thoughts come other less comforting ones, a more logical part that warns you that you have been letting this go on for too long. You let your hold on Charles’s arm fall, instinctively taking a step back. This is too much, the wine must have been playing with your head, you have let this go on for over time and-

However, Charles doesn’t seem to agree with any of the thoughts boiling in your head, his hand following the movements of yours and catching it halfway, his fingers intertwining with yours. Not ready to let you go just yet. He can see the gears turning at full force inside your mind as well, hopes the gesture will stop you from overthinking it all and focus solely on this.

For you though, that train of thought isn’t as easy to reach, even less so when his touch has set your nerves alight. “Oh, yeah, me too! Well-, I mean, I’m happy to be here. The first day I thought I wouldn’t even see you in all ten days, but it’s been great ever since, I promise!” the tension of the moment is too much to handle, and it forces the first stupidity that comes to your mind out to break it

Charles tilts his head to the side, taking some extra time to process what you said “What?”

Sadly, instead of simply waiting for him to interpret your babbling, your big mouth keeps on talking “You were working, I completely understand! I mean, you’re in Ferrari, of course... I just got nervous at first, that’s all”

“Oh” the Monegasque simply says, his face void of any emotion as he watches you freaking out thinking you’ve upset him. You and your stupid brain that keeps making up excuses for a joke you had told to ease the tension, you should start thinking twice about it. The wine has also loosed up your tongue.

At some point Charles decides it is time to have some mercy on you and stop your monologue, a big grin making his eyes crinkle before he is using his hold on your hand to bring you in for a big hug — what a nice way to ask you to shut up.

“Seriously, this is driving me crazy...” he confesses with a giggle, tightening his arms around your body as you deflate in his hold, letting go of all the nerves that had so suddenly preyed on you “You know what happened? I prepared everything, arranged some visits and talked to some people, everything! And I thought: I’ll push all the meetings I have to Monday and Tuesday, so they won’t bother us at all, she’ll probably sleep until, like 2 p. m.” Charles narrates the plan he had so carefully drawn up for your visit, making a pause to lean back and see your reaction to all that happened behind the scenes before you came to the country “Well, turns out that someone, even after driving for 70 whole laps in Hungary and having not slept at all during the flight, just decided to wake up at 8 in the morning! Who does that?”

The belly laugh that escapes you is loud, cheeks hurting from the big smile that has managed to take over your face throughout Charles’ story, his expressions and gestures depicting how much it had surprised him to see you walking down the hall that morning. All dressed up and ready for the day, if you may add.

“Why do you think I took you to the Prince’s Car Collection that day? I thought, since she’s been pestering me for months about it, maybe that’ll make her forget she’s been locked away all morning”

“Aw, that’s so nice!” you compliment him, elongating the syllables and swaying him from side to side to further support your words, your hands still resting on his chest and his having claimed their place at your sides. You do not remember ever talking about the collection, but that is something that does not matter right now "You've been a great tour guide"

“I really am nice” Charles affirms with a smirk, like he cannot believe you didn't find that out earlier, and you can only nod at him in agreement. He has been nothing but amazing in the time you have known each other, you’ll give him that. "I don't know about the tour guide part though, you've been only laughing at me..."

You playfully hit his chest, smiles turning to giggles that give way to a comfortable silence, a moment to relax. Happiness is spilling out of every single pore of your skin as you look at each other with a silly grin on your lips, eyes analysing every feature of the other’s face and committing it to memory as if they were about to vanish in time. A strong hold on each other just in case.

You can see Charles debating wether to break the silence or not, a soft frown set in between his eyebrows while his eyes search for a sign in yours. His lips are pursed, the words that had been stuck in his mind for a while now about to finally be pronounced. However, a strange music beats him to it.

It promptly steals your attention from him, moment broken. Your head turns to the sound, recognizing where it seems to be coming from... your bedroom?

As if hypnotised, you step away from Charles, the Monegasque letting you go from his hold without putting up much of a fight —although he desperately wants to. Something inside of you pulling you towards the sound. The steps you take to the room seem endless, the heels clicking on the hardwood following your path and the noise getting louder, but when you open the door it all happens so fast. You somehow know exactly where it is coming from, hands digging with urgency inside the backpack you had taken to airport 10 days ago. Having come to kneel on the ground, you pull out a cloth bag and lay it out beside you, the realization that it is the same one Nick left for you in Hungary’s hotel and you had not even opened, being too vague for you to fully grasp it.

The music is louder now, your ears ringing with the stupid rhythm when you finally decide to empty all of its contents out on the floor for easier access. You find a lip balm, earphones, some papers and buried under all of it: a phone.

Another one. A phone you had never seen, the one Nick gave you at the start of this madness still secure in your bag. Where did it come from? Nick had said the bag contained the stuff you left behind at the track, but you sure as hell did not leave this.

You watch your hand stretching towards the device in slow motion, your mind pushing you forward but getting no response in return. The screen is upside down, the case vibrating against the floor and joining the cacophony of sounds that has been bouncing off your ears, a feeling of being underwater so awfully recognizable that you get dizzy just thinking about the last time you endured its consequences. The necklace burning in your chest.

What is this phone? Who is calling?

Your fingers tingle at the touch, the device turning in your hold ever so slowly to reveal the caller screen. At the top, written in big bold letters reads the contact's name you have been longing to see for so long:

DAD

A due reminder that none of this is real.

Author's note: Omg, this is so long, I got carried the fuck away with this one. As you have probably noticed it is not even proofread, if I keep it in my drafts any longer I'll keep adding to it. It ended up being as a kind of Charles' one shot thing so I hope you all enjoyed it. As always, any kind of interaction is greatly appreciated, thank you all so much for reading!

Also happy New Year to everyone!! This was supposed to be my Christmas present to all of you but it just kept going out of control.

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub @darleneslane @therealcap @aespie

If anybody is missing from the taglist, please send me a message! I've had some problems with tumblr lately so I'm really sorry if I didn't tag you.

#charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x you #formula one x reader #formula one x you #f1 imagine

145 notes · View notes

antiodote · 2 years

Text

she can't finish and they fight - part III

warnings: drug/alcohol abuse, mention of purging, slight mentions of sexual activity (but not really)

"fuck you, harry."

part I & II

+++

she had slept in her car that night.

more specifically, she had parked in her gym’s parking lot and fell asleep in her car. her idea? get to the gym at 6 in the morning, run for an hour straight at an ungodly speed that might make her sick, shower and scrub her body so thoroughly that it hurt, get ready in the bathroom of said gym and arrive at work bright and early as if nothing ever happened. she even thought about getting some iced coffee on the way. you know, as a treat.

she also felt numb. so, so numb.

after she had left home - no, harry’s place - she wondered if all of it was a nightmare. some sort of hallucination that manifested itself into her brain after 6 weeks of straight malnourishment and sleep deprivation. never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that he would ever speak to her in that way or do something like that to her; question her trust like that. she asked herself if she even knew who he was or if the last four years had been a lie, but somewhere between taking an impossibly hot shower and slapping tons of concealer under her eyes in an attempt to cover her dark circles, she had decided to not think about it for as long as she possibly could. she just wouldn’t think about it, wouldn’t talk to anyone about it and she definitely, definitely, definitely wasn’t going to face him anytime soon.

and so, she arrived at work at 8:54 am, ready to get some work done and pretend that everything was as it should be. fortunately for her, it seemed to work out - for most of the day, that is.

she had greeted some co-workers, wrote down a list of to-do’s for the day, checked off those to-do’s one by one, had some coffee, ate some lettuce wraps for lunch and threw up said lettuce wraps, returned to drinking coffee and nothing but. with a few meetings here and there, some office gossip and a pile of work later, her work day was finished. she found herself wishing that she could be stuck in that loop for the rest of her life - or at least for another few hours - so she could escape the reality of things for just a tiny bit longer. things don’t seem to go to plan for her lately.

“you’re leaving early? is it christmas already?”

she turned around to find tony, one of her coworkers, looking at her with an expression that indicated humour. she wasn’t really up for humour right now, but she also didn’t want to seem any more off than she probably already did. so, she forced a chuckle and answered.

“well, technically, I’m not leaving early. I just finished my work on time and don’t really feel like staying longer today, honestly.”

“so compared to your usual hours, you’re still leaving early.”

she looked at him with a frozen smile that didn’t reach her eyes. she hated when people - no, men - repeated her exact words back to her as if she were stupid. she hated it with a passion. harry never spoke to her like that. she should tell him all about it once she gets home, she thought.

as she realised that she couldn’t do that, she quickly turned away from tony to resume packing her bag.

“I suppose you’re right, tony. what can I do for you?”

he hoped her tone indicated her lack of interest in their conversation. she truly desired nothing more than to get out of this office and figure out her plan for the next few days.

“some of us wanted to get some drinks at this bar down the street. you know, the one that does trivia on wednesday nights? would you like to join us? you can tell your boyfriend to come!”

every single part of those sentences made her feel woozy. the idea of having drinks with her coworkers was absolutely atrocious; she couldn’t physically think of something that she would’ve liked to do less at that moment. however, the mention of him made her suddenly want something to drown out her thoughts with. she usually never resorted to alcohol, but the burn of some heavy liquor in her throat would for sure help her out, at least for now. she needed to feel something. so, without giving it much more thought, she turned around, smiled, and almost robotically replied.

“sure, I’d love to come. thanks for the invite! I’ll ask if he can make it.”

+++

8pm arrived and y/n was piss drunk.

when they arrived at the bar her coworkers ordered a round of different dishes for the table while she immediately went for the drinks. beer wasn’t her favourite, so vodka would suffice. one drink turned into two, two turned into four and before she realised, she found herself 7 drinks deep into her own abyssal torment. none of her coworkers seemed to notice, either because they lacked interest or she was too good at hiding her intoxication. she barely spoke at the table, anyway.

“so, y/n! where is that lovely boyfriend of yours? we haven’t seen him since last year’s christmas party. he was fun!” one of her older coworkers, maude, chirped.

y/n looked up from her drink, slightly disoriented at first. she kept forgetting that the outside world wasn’t aware of how her life crumbled into pieces at her feet.

act normal. act normal. act normal.

“oh, he’s been pretty busy. you know, with his music and stuff. I’m sorry he couldn’t make it tonight.” she replied. funny how she didn’t even know where he was, right now.

“oh, that’s a shame. make sure to bring him around again soon! he did a whole coffee run when he visited you last time. even paid for my extra pumps of hazelnut syrup, the ol’ charmer.” maude giggled. y/n forgot how older ladies seemed to adore him. then again, everyone did.

she also did.

in an attempt to seem flattered, she shook her head with a smile on her face. she couldn’t possibly have any of them suspect anything. the last thing she needed was to be the subject of infuriating office chitchat. luckily, she found it quite easy to keep up fake conversation and with that, fake emotion. she truly didn’t care for the people she worked with. a job was a job, nothing more. sure, she loved what she did, but it didn’t change the fact that her job wasn’t her life, or at least, shouldn’t be. she barely cared about her boss, but she did care about the money. a lot.

for all she cared, she was going to keep up the lie for as long as she had to, and she was fine with that. but maybe, just maybe, it gave her an excuse to pretend that everything was still okay between her and harry. she might as well treat her workplace as an alternate reality; a parallel universe where she could still go home to her lover and had never been kicked out of her own home. a home she helped to build with all the love she possessed in her heart.

oh, what a waste of love, she thought.

“y/n, are you still with us?”

“huh? what?”

people laughed. her eyebrows furrowed. she glanced around. she was confused. she felt embarrassed.

“oh, darling, maybe cut back on those drinks you’ve been chugging! I mean, I know you’re a heavyweight and it’s the weekend, but you just totally spaced out on us!“ lena - a younger coworker of hers - said, giggling her way through her remark.

“oh god, sorry. it’s been a long week, you know how it is.” she tried to go along with the joke, while truthfully feeling mortified for letting her guard down. “what were you saying?”

she honestly couldn’t care less.

“oh, we were just talking about potentially making this a regular thing! you know, to strengthen team morale and all.”

she smiled. there was no way in hell.

“sure! sounds fun.”

they nodded in agreement, believing her made-up enthusiasm. maybe she should’ve gone to acting school with how believable her act was. or they might just not care about her, just like she doesn’t care about them. they definitely didn’t care enough to ask.

the question was: who did care about her?

her coworkers don’t seem to do so. she’d barely seen any of her friends for a long while now. she hadn’t spoken to her family in what felt like forever.

she always thought that harry cared.

harry. oh, harry.

harry. harry. harry.

she suddenly rose up from her seat, pulling everyone’s eyes in her direction.

“I’m gonna use the restroom.”

and gone she was.

her heart was beating unbelievably fast. she wasn’t feeling good, at all. maybe the alcohol did take a toll on her.

without checking her surroundings, she almost bolted to the restroom. as soon as she entered, she picked one of the empty stalls and found purchase on the sticky floor, almost dramatically sliding down along the closed door. she needed to breathe. her head hung low between her bent knees, her hands clasping around her ears. with her eyes screwed shut and her hearing now impacted, she was now robbed of most of her senses, grounding her somewhat. ‘please, please, please’ was chanted in her head like a mantra; she couldn’t lose her composure like this, anything else was not as important at this moment.

“everything okay in there? should I get someone?”

her head shot up. fuck.

her breathing must’ve been heavy or maybe the words she repeated weren’t as quiet as she thought. she wasn’t sure who was behind the door, but she wasn’t strong enough to face them.

“uh, I’m okay! thanks for asking.”

silence.

“y/n? is that you?”

wait, what? she knew that voice.

she got up to open the door and was suddenly faced with a very familiar face.

“jane?”

+++

harry doesn’t remember the last time he felt so hollow. with every moment that passed, he felt more and more like he was drowning. like he was making a terrible, terrible mistake.

the last thing she had said to him before she went to pack a bag was ‘fuck you, harry.’ and truthfully, at first, he was angry. angry at how they argued, angry at her for leaving, angry at himself for not asking her to stay. it was a little later though, right after the door slammed shut behind her that he realised he couldn’t have asked her to stay when he was the one who told her to leave.

and then it dawned on him. he told her to leave. he kicked her out. in the middle of the night. in a city where he himself had been robbed at knifepoint not too long ago.

the panic kicked in soon after.

so, he called. and called. and called.

but she never answered.

after the 30th call, her phone went straight to voicemail. that was when harry really started freaking out.

where did she go? was she safe? what if something happened? harry wouldn’t forgive himself if something were to have happened.

he bit and chewed on his fingers until they bled. he didn’t sleep. his mind and soul were surrounded by an image of her in danger. in pain. hurt.

though, he hurt her that night.

he was the one who put her in that situation. he hurt her. why the fuck did he do that? why the actual fuck did he do that?

when the panic passed, the self-loathing soon followed. he didn’t understand how things were so quick to turn around when they were more than okay a mere few weeks ago. he treated her like she was disposable and he doesn’t think he will ever forgive himself for it.

when the hatred for himself outweighed the worry he had for her, he resorted to pills to find slumber that night. the sleep was terrible, but it was better than nothing.

he woke up the next morning, finding himself on his kitchen floor. he must’ve passed out then and there. he checked the clock just above the fridge. the time was 9:15 AM. if she was okay, she must be at work. he could go there to check on her, see if her car was there. but, then again, he felt like he was the last person she wanted around her at this moment. if she was even alive, that is.

his rationality came back to him somewhere after 11 in the morning, just after his shower. she was a strong and capable woman, she was probably fine. she had to be, or he was never going to be fine again.

he went back to the kitchen to fetch himself some water for his run. if there was one thing that helped him, it was running for miles and miles and miles ahead and drowning out his surroundings with music through his headphones. as he opened the fridge he was faced with a bowl that was filled with cubes of fruit. the bowl was shaped like a lemon and had the colour to go with it. he remembers how y/n had picked it out online, gushing over how cute and fitting it is.

‘you always sing about fruit! might as well have a lemon-shaped bowl, if you ask me.’

he remembers how he had chuckled in response, pulled her in for a kiss on her temple, and replied ‘whatever you want, love.’

why do those days feel so far away now?

he looked all around the kitchen and observed how every nook and cranny of this house had pieces of her littered all over it. the kitchen clock; a soft yellow one with slender, roman numbering on it - she chose it. the light pink cabinets - she painted them. actually, they painted them together and made sweet love on that very floor when they were finished. every piece of decoration - she had collected them whenever they had travelled. he particularly took notice of a framed picture right next to the sink. a moment captured when they made fresh pasta at his mother’s house when they were there for her birthday, two years ago. he remembered the moment so, so vividly.

‘harry, for goodness’ sake! you’re making a mess!’

she was the one who rolled out the dough by hand, since harry had previously dropped the pasta maker on the floor, resulting in its break. feeling a little useless, he wanted to do whatever he could to make her laugh. so, he did what any child would do: poured flour over them. first, her nose. then, her cheeks. shortly after, her head. and when she was sick of him, she grabbed the packet from his grasp and poured every last bit over him. her glimmering eyes looked straight at his playful ones. she bit her lips, in order to deny him the satisfaction of a laugh, and he looked just about ready to burst at the seams.

in that moment, his sister quietly took a picture, making sure to get it back to them for one of their birthdays. when she was done, she clapped her hands to gain their attention, and suddenly they stood there like deers caught in headlights.

then, laughter erupted. loud, hearty, full laughter.

harry had to physically shake his head to lose the memory. when a sudden sickness overcame him, he found himself emptying the contents of his stomach right into said sink. was this kind of behaviour normal after a breakup? he didn’t know.

breakup. breakup. breakup.

the word swam around his vision, making him want to gauge his own eyes out. were they broken up, now? could she ever forgive him? then again, could he forgive her for lying to him? his mind was swarmed with all sorts of questions that he had no way of finding an answer to, at least not anytime soon.

he needed to go on that run.

so, he did. and ever so conveniently, he ran by her workplace. low and behold, her car was there, unscathed. relief flooded him, but so did dread. because if she was at work, that meant she was fine. which also meant that she didn’t pick up his calls on purpose. she didn’t want to talk to him.

good. maybe they shouldn’t talk for a while. whatever.

he ran back home and didn’t leave the house for the remaining day.

+++

jane was y/n’s lifelong friend. they went to high school together and were usually inseparable. however, with both of their schedules being as crazy as they were, they rarely saw each other these days. when jane saw the state of her in that bathroom stall, she paid for her tab and drove her home. y/n didn’t say much in that time, still in a state of sensory overload. it was only when she saw how they were approaching harry’s driveway that she spoke.

“we can’t go there.”

jane whipped her head towards the passenger seat. “what do you mean, petal?”

y/n stared straight ahead. “we can’t go to harry’s place. can I stay with you tonight? I’ll explain everything.”

jane looked at her for a few beats longer, worry etched deep into her features, until she turned her car around and drove to her own apartment. just over 30 minutes later, they arrived.

y/n soon realised how drunk she truly was, especially when the glare of the white lightbulbs in jane’s bathroom made her head throb and her guts churn. she ended up leaning above the toilet bowl in an attempt to empty the contents of her stomach, however, her attempt was in vain; nothing left her stomach. and yet, she felt so empty.

she wished that she had shouted at harry, maybe even slap him across his annoyingly pretty face. she wished she had done something to stop him from doing what he did. but alas, just like nothing left her now, nothing left her then. she was always so perfectly contained. harry had even told her on multiple occasions that she needed to let loose, even if it was just a little bit. he was good at helping her with that. she always felt so unbothered and carefree in his presence.

oh, harry. what have you done?

“god, harry. you fucking idiot.”

the first sob of the night left her. then came the second. the third quickly followed. all of a sudden, she found herself crying in agony over her best friend’s toilet.

“y/n, you okay?? can I come in?” jane called from the other side of the door, but y/n didn’t hear. the echo of her cries within the toilet bowl was too loud for her to be aware of her surroundings. thus, a very worried-looking jane came bursting through the door. as she found y/n in literal shambles across the bathroom floor, she couldn’t help but choke up herself. she’d never seen her like this, and it truly broke her heart.

“hey, hey pretty girl, it’s alright. I’m here, good god, I’m here. let it all out.”

jane ended up cradling y/n, almost like you would calm a crying baby, and y/n didn’t realise how much she truly needed it. however, she still didn’t dare to speak. she feared that, once she recalled the events out loud, they would become reality. she wasn’t ready for that to happen, not yet. maybe not ever, but definitely not now.

so she cried and cried and cried until there was nothing left to give. jane and her wordlessly went to bed that night, bundled up in blankets to keep out the cold.

y/n feared she might never feel normal again, if she even knew what that was. she felt like harry completed her, and that scared her to death.

when she woke up the next day, she finally threw up. with the vodka finally out of her system and her stomach basically cleansed, she felt a lot better than she thought she would. the headache was manageable and the nausea came and went. she could survive this.

she didn’t know about the rest of her circumstances, though.

whenever the thought of him popped into her head, she did whatever she could to distract herself. first thing in the morning? she showered after her journey to the toilet bowl. after the shower? extensive skincare. when she saw her tired expression in the mirror? left the bathroom to borrow some of jane’s clothes. eventually, she had run out of distractions in the bedroom, so she escaped to the kitchen. when she started preparing breakfast and turned up the radio just a touch, she was reminded of him, again. soon enough, she realised that everything reminded her of him, and there was nothing she could do about it. would be too easy, right?

for the first time in a while, she felt vulnerable. raw. like there was no skin over her pain and a gust of wind could make it bleed.

the realisation knocked the air out of her for just a moment, but it was enough for her to turn the stove off and sit down. she felt as if she had just run up the stairs, in fear that somebody was chasing her. she felt out of breath, disoriented and weirded out. maybe she should go to that doctor to talk about her anxiety, harry had always-

“hey, you! making some breakfast? how kind.” jane chimed, bright and chipper, ripping y/n out of her thoughts. she caught her gaze, offering a smile. “oh, I was just up early today. the eggs are probably burnt, though. just a heads up.”

jane nodded and went straight to her bag of toaster waffles and popped one of them into her mouth. a quick turn later, she faced y/n with an apologetic expression. as much as she wanted to grant y/n her bit of privacy, she needed to know what happened. before jane could open her mouth, y/n spoke. she spoke and spoke and spoke, retelling the whole thing, from the moment she felt overwhelmed at work, right up to the point where harry kicked her out. this was the second day she wasn’t at his place, refusing to refer to it as ‘home’, and everything still felt awfully unreal. jane listened and listened until she snapped.

“hold on, what? you slept in your damn car? why didn’t you call me? y/n, that was so unsafe, dear god!”

she was pacing up and down her lengthy kitchen, trying to wrap her head around how her best friend’s picture-perfect relationship went to shit without anybody else noticing.

“I know, jane, I know, but I wasn’t really thinking and I didn’t want to bother anyone. the two of us have barely spoken lately, and-“

“as if that matters! y/n, you’re my best friend, okay? my ride or die. it doesn’t matter if I see you once a week or once a year, I am the person you tell these things to, okay? I’m the person you ask for help!”

y/n didn’t answer, shame clouding her senses. instead, her gaze turned downwards and she started picking her nails.

“you’re staying with me until we figure this out, okay? I don’t want to hear shit.”

when y/n didn’t answer, jane physically forced her to look at her by nudging her hand under her chin and gently dragging it upwards. “got it, petal?”

y/n nodded.

“wonderful! oh, and if I see harry, just know I’m gonna beat the shit out of him. lord knows he deserved it-“

“you will not, okay?”

jane looked at y/n as if she had grown a third head. confusedly, she goes: “wait, are you planning to forgive him, or something?”

y/n became frustrated. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet, okay? I just don’t know. I can’t face him for a bit, but I can’t tell you what’ll happen afterwards. please don’t hurt him, I know that you actually would.”

jane listened, processed, and nodded. she didn’t want to cause her any more emotional turmoil.

“okay, dude. whatever you say. now, let’s plan this sleepover of ours!”

+++

it’d been seven days since harry had last seen her. with every day that had passed, his emotions spiralled.

his first phase: hatred.

he hated her. he hated her boss, her work, her mindset. he hated all of the things he could blame for their fallout, thus also hating himself. he hated himself so much that he couldn’t bare to look at himself. when he wasn’t excessively punching things in his at-home gym, he got high and broke stuff. he called her and spoke spiteful things onto her voicemail. he cried angry tears and listened to angry, devastating music.

the music triggered the second phase: sorrow.

he cried and cried and cried, especially to sad coldplay songs or the old records that his stepfather used to collect. the crying made him tired, so he slept a lot during this phase. though, as soon as he woke up, he’d be crying again.

when the crying stopped, the depression came.

heaviness shaped his form. his feet felt too heavy to lift, thus his bed became his permanent residence for a bit. his mind was hazy and everything he attempted to do sucked every last bit of energy out of him, resulting in a permanent state of exhaustion.

his empty bed triggered his longest phase: loneliness.

he missed her. so fucking much.

he missed her smell. her peaceful, sleeping state. he missed how she would always have to collect individual hairs off of their covers because her hair just shed in heaps during her slumber. he missed how she’d look up at him when the first few moments of consciousness kissed her in the morning. he missed how he could lay his head on her soft chest and listen to her steady heartbeat. he missed how she would sometimes lovingly grab him by the jaw and pull him down to kiss his forehead. he missed how she used to make him coffee in the morning and he’d eat her out on the kitchen table to say thank you. he missed her body, every mark and every freckle. he missed her voice and wished he’d recorded it at some point. he missed the way she’d hug him from every angle. he missed how she could talk to him for hours about anything. he missed making love to her.

he missed being able to love her.

he feared that she was gone now. far, far away from his reach. he had to make peace with it, though. right?

thus he welcomed his current phase: apathy.

he didn’t care anymore; he wasn’t going to get her back. he’d fucked up too bad, so he resorted to resenting her for her mistakes. the negative emotions that were previously directed towards him only were now evenly distributed amongst her, him, their situation and the world. he didn’t want to talk to anyone, reach out to anyone, or even acknowledge his feelings in any way. as he cleaned up his house from the shards and pieces of the the things he had destroyed, he found a weird sense of serenity in the acceptance of his downfall. all was lost now, what else could go wrong?

then, his phone rang.

he checked. it was sarah.

he wasn’t going to pick up, but she’d called him a few times now. he didn’t want to worry her, so he finally picked up.

“hello?”

a sigh of relief left her.

“goodness, harry, where were you? I’ve been trying to reach you for ages! look, some things need to be picked up for the rehearsal dinner on tuesday. could you maybe handle it? I wouldn’t ask you but mitch and I have been super busy with everything else. pleeaasee?”

harry’s brows furrowed. rehearsal dinner?

then, he remembered. the fucking wedding.

mitch and sarah had been officially married for over a year, yet they never had a proper celebration due to obvious restrictions. and honestly, he’d completely forgotten about it within the last few days. a wedding for his best friends, which she was also supposed to attend. how on earth could he make this right?

“oh! and tell y/n to call me back, please! I’ve been meaning to talk to her about the dresses for the bridesmaids, but her phone is dead or something.”

without missing a beat, harry replied. “yeah, sure. I’ll tell her. also, send me what you need picked up and I’ll get it to you.”

if there was one thing harry and y/n had in common, it was this: they would always put other people’s needs above their own, especially if it concerned their loved ones. there was no way in hell he would make one of his best friends worry about him when her wedding was just around the corner. he’ll pretend if he had to. but he was not going to fuck this up for them.

“oh, you’re an angel! I’ll send you all the details, thank you! I have to go now but give y/n a kiss from me, please. love you! see you later! bye!”

the phone beeped until inevitable silence.

right, so he had to hope that y/n would attend the wedding. no, he had to be sure that she would be there. not only that; he had to hope that she would agree to act normal around their friends, for now.

harry needed to find a way to reach her. he might’ve fucked up his own relationship, but he was not going to spoil his friend’s wedding.

wonderful. what could go wrong? except for absolutely everything?

+++

5.1k, not proofread (whoops), lowercase intended

PART THREE IS HERE HELLOOOOO

thank you for your patience !! i know it’s been a long time coming. parts of this were kind of hard to write for me, so excuse any ill worded sentences, please <3

i hope you enjoy this one! as always, all the love xx

-ve !!

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles concept #harry styles au #harry styles drabble #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles series #i was feeling very down while writing this and i hope it shows <3 #antiodote #he's writing!#harry styles smut #harry styles soft

2K notes · View notes

im-just-a-mississippi-girl · 18 days

Text

Painted Him Perfect

Pairing: Austin Gunn x ex-wife!reader

Category: Angst

Word count: 824

Summary: You finally decide it’s time to be honest about your marriage with Austin Gunn. About how you painted him perfect.

Warnings: None

A/N: I know it’s been 63936383629 years since I last posted a fic 🤣 but here I am! Based off Painted Him Perfect by Alexandra Kay

Masterlist

Taglist

Moodboard is not mine. Credit goes to @katries 😘

There he was, your ex-husband, laughing with his friends like everything was perfect. Perfect. If only they knew just how perfect their buddy Austin Gunn truly was.

You knew after these past several months it was time to be honest. It was time to be honest with your friends, with your family.

The honest truth is that no matter how many times you sang his praises, drove or flew hours and hours to see him, he would mention over and over how he hated the attention. You didn’t understand because you thought that was what he wanted.

Arguments were more common between you two than they should have been. Couples therapy didn’t do any good no matter how hard you tried, tears in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks. Austin never really tried to make it work, never told his truth in therapy. That was rock bottom for you, for your marriage. His true colors and true character shone bright in that therapist’s office. That’s when you knew it was over, when you knew you couldn’t keep painting him perfect, when he couldn’t even attempt to make an effort to work on the relationship. A relationship that you thought was true love but it was all just a slap in the face.

Kris Statlander and Willow Nightingale were two of your closest friends. You met them through Austin so maybe you have one good thing to come out quite possibly the worst relationship you’ve ever been in.

“Hey!” You heard Willow’s upbeat voice coming from your left.

“Hey.” You sighed. Now is the time to tell them. They’re your best friends, plus you have nothing to hide. You fought tooth and nail for your marriage to get better, to please Austin in order to keep the storm clouds away.

“I know that voice. What’s wrong?” Kris was never one to beat around the bush. She noticed you haven’t made any effort to look their way. Her eyes followed yours and she knew immediately who you were looking at. Austin Gunn and the rest of Bullet Club Gold. “You two have an argument?” Kris turned back to you, her head tilted as she studied your face.

Understatement of the century.

Willow shook her head. “I don’t think that’s it. I think maybe—”

“I need to be honest here girls.” You finally looked at your friends and you saw you had their undivided attention, so you let the floodgates fall. Maybe you should have went somewhere more private than roughly 8 feet away from the Bang Bang Gang but part of you wanted passersby to hear, his friends to hear. You just knew that if you didn’t speak your truth then another woman would fall victim to his charm and nice guy act only to be in for heartbreak and misery.

By the time you were finished, Kris’s and Willow’s jaws were on the floor. You didn’t leave anything out. You told the story of how the seemingly ‘perfect’ marriage was all because you made it out to be that way. You told them how you always excused things away as ‘that’s what love is’, but now you knew better. You recalled the big scene Austin caused on vacation at the beach in Atlantic City back in August. August 14th to be exact. Unfortunately, you’ll never forget that date because you’ve never been more embarrassed and ashamed. You even admitted to ignoring the red flags, the red flags you always said you would never let slide. Retelling these stories made you realize that you were yellow and he was green, blue was always going to be the color of your relationship.

During your storytelling, some tears must have fell because felt Willow squeeze your hand, in an effort to comfort. Kris on the other hand was connecting the dots before you’d finish a story.

“That’s what really happened to us. No amount of couples therapy could save us because he didn’t want to save us. Not even when I begged for him to, cried for him to. So the best thing I could do was to paint him perfect so no one knew a thing about just how miserable and embarrassing our relationship truly was.”

“He didn’t deserve for you to paint him perfect.” Kris was fuming. You knew if you gave her the green light she would make that boy’s life pure hell. It was tempting but you wanted something else for him instead.

All you could do was agree. “You’re right I shouldn’t have and it’s a good thing I’m not doing it anymore.”

You didn’t hate Austin Gunn, you didn’t like him, and you sure as hell didn’t love him — at least not anymore. Although, you did want him to feel the pain you felt, you wanted him to be heartbroken. Okay, so maybe you did hate him a little bit, but could anyone really blame you after you told the truth?

General Taglist: @legit9thlunaticwarrior @plentyoffandoms @1dluver13xx @sunshinevirus @wwenhlimagines @crowleysqueenofhell @jackson-nickthedate @omg-im-such-a-masochist @kmc1989

#austin gunn #austin gunn imagine #austin gunn x reader #aew #all elite wrestling #aew imagine #aew imagines #aew fanfiction #aew fic #aew fanfic #Spotify

38 notes · View notes

valentiyne · 7 months

Text

𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝗆𝖾 ☆ 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗎𝗆 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽

Calum Hood x Fem!Reader Summary: Inspired by Right Where You Left Me by T.S, angst angst angst Warnings: Swearing Word Count: 2k Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

*Italics refer to a flashback sequence & listen to voicemail after

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

May 2014

"What do you mean you're leaving?", I grab onto his upper arm, pulling him to turn and face me.

Calum's chocolate eyes were filled to the brim with tears now, avoiding my gaze for as long as possible. I'm sure he was wondering how I found out- it's not like any of his friends were great at keeping their mouths shut.

"Cal, answer me", I plead now, my grip tightening around his forearm. He didn't meet my eyes for what felt like an entire hour. I stood in front of him, my chest rising and falling as quick as it could without fail.

The rest of the group sat inside, wrapped around a table as they shared good memories with their closest friends. It didn't take long for me to catch up on what was really going on. The last-minute dinner reservation with everyone, Luke's apologetic eyes, and Michael's sympathetic look painted the picture for me- They took the world tour offer.

"Calum please," His name was unfamiliar to me now.

His eyes finally meet mine and my breath gets caught in my throat. They were darker than usual, his cheap cherry-scented cologne filled my nose and I wanted nothing more than to embrace him.

"I don't know what you want me to say", He finally speaks, his ring clasped hand reaching up to push his hood forward on his head.

"When are you leaving?"

"We leave tomorrow"

"For how long"

He hesitates, looking down at me with a deadpan. "I don't know"

May 2020

I look down at the stack of papers on my desk, my head rushing with thoughts that I couldn't bring myself to write down. I click the pen vigorously, my eyes squeezed shut as I try and forget everything.

In my head, I was still there in that restaurant. Even 6 years later.

"Y/n?", My assistant, Kat, calls from the other side of the door and I groan to myself, sliding out of my chair and closer to the door. My hand rests on the metal handle, retracting quickly as it reminds me of a familiar metal clasped hand.

"Yes?", My voice is weak, barely above a whisper and I mentally curse myself as soon as It slips past my lips.

I could hear her shift between two legs, her shy voice peppering up a little louder, "You asked me to remind you to take your dinner break."

I thank her kindly and turn my back to the door, sliding down on to the floor and hitting the soft carpet with a thud. I could hear my phone vibrating on my desk, mentally rolling my eyes to the fourth scam call of the day. I was stuck, I had no idea what I was going to do with myself anymore. Hung up on the one who got away with no explanation of any sort.

I tried for six years to get it out of my head: numerous therapy sessions, taking on poetry and even going on walks.

But everything led me back to that restaurant at the same time every night.

It was a family-owned Italian restaurant that we had found one afternoon after school, Calum begging me to try it with him. It had become a routine of going there any chance we could, even if it meant in between his band rehearsals.

I walk down the familiar rode, looking at every painful memory that surrounds me. From the tree that we carved our initials in to the bench he threw up next to because he stupidly convinced the bartender to serve underage us.

I push past the familiar door, smiling at the hostess at the door. They all knew the routine, coming in every day at 7:41 p.m. and sitting at the booth up until 8:39- the exact moment he walked out those doors for the last time.

The restaurant was busy tonight, multiple people packed at the door complaining about the long waitlist. I strode past them nevertheless, keeping my head down as I made my way to the tiny table in the corner.

I look up, expecting to be met with the collection of dust and cobwebs welcoming themselves in my- our spot. I didn't realize I wasn't breathing until my chest began to feel like it was erupting in flames. I exhale heavily and pull my eyes away from his, turning on my heel to dart back out through the maze of people.

"Y/n", His voice is breathless, standing up quickly causing the silverware to clatter on the plate and the wooden chair to fall backward. I halted in place, his voice was deeper now and it still danced around my head.

Everything felt like it was in slow motion as I turned around and faced him. His hair was longer now, curling all around his face and down the crook of his neck where my head used to lay. I blink once, then twice before my mouth opens.

"Calum." I give him a nod, my hands shaking as I stare at him. It felt like looking at a stranger, someone I used to know all about and yet none at the same time.

He's the first to make a move, walking one step forward.

"I didn't think you'd show up," his voice was quiet now as he stared at me across the resturaunt at me. I adjust my purse on my shoulder, staring back at his doe-eyed boy in front of me.

"This is my spot", I murmur under my breath with a nervous laugh. I take the next step, noticing his arms widen to pull me into a hug which I politely declined. I brushed past him, my shoulders rubbing his chest as I set my purse down on the floor and scooted into the wooden chair. He turns to face me again before slowly walking to the other side and placing his chair upright, his eyes glued to me. He sits down in the chair and folds his arms on top of the table. In front of me was a large bottle of red wine, something Calum knew better than anyone else I hated.

"What are you doing here, Calum?", I whisper, my breath making the vanilla-scented candle in the middle of us wiggle.

He stirs his water with his straw, looking down now, "I wanted to see you."

He was admitting the very words I begged to hear for 6 years

I stare up at him, my eyes lowering into a squint.

"You have some nerve," I spit out, my eyes beginning to water as my throat burns. "I waited for you for over six years, in the very seat you're in now. And what? You show back up after 6 years of zero contact?"

He rolls his sleeves up, showing off the various ink that stained his arms. Brown eyes looked back at me in confusion, earning a scoff from me before he could speak, "Zero contact? I- Y/n what are you talking about?" His voice was lowered now as numerous people were walking past.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." I never thought this day would come- the day I could tell him everything without repercussions. The worst that could happen is him staying gone this time.

"No, Y/n. I called you every single day for the past six years", he pulls his phone out and begins scrolling. I sit in silence, not wanting to feed into his lie.

"Look", he shows me his screen, all the call logs, and voicemails overflowed the screen. I stared at him for as long as possible, my eye twitching slightly at the sight.

"I called three times a day for over 6 years- you were the one not answering"

I grab my purse from the floor, digging through it rapidly to find my phone. I meet the cold metal with my fingertips and rip it out, scrolling through it frantically before finding his contact name.

"CalPal" is read and I smiled to myself slightly, scrolling down to the bottom of the contact card to see the very words I wish I hadn't.

Unblock Caller

I stared in disbelief, looking up quickly to meet his eyes slowly with my mouth hung agape.

"What? I never-"

"I did."

I look at him in shock, my eyes widened as I try and form a sentence. I wasn't quite sure what to even say.

"Wh-"

He cuts me off now, his hand raising up to speak, "I blocked myself off your phone all those years ago, I couldn't bear the thought knowing I left" He pauses, looking between both of my watery eyes before continuing, "It was selfish of me, but I knew in my heart....I .. I couldn't imagine not coming home to you every night." His voice wavered towards the end of the sentence

"How could you...?", I start with a meek sob, my hand clasping over my mouth to silence myself slightly. "Why would you do that?" My voice is louder now.

"Because I was scared- Knowing I'd be leaving you here and not knowing when I'd return" He was disappointed in himself, his voice barely audible as he looked back down at his phone.

"I sat here for years, Calum, scrolling through every single fucking concert video or update account until my fingers were numb- all for what? To save yourself from facing the guilt?"

He cleared his throat and kept his eyes glued on the vanilla-scented candle in front of us that was almost out. I couldn't make out the expression that was plastered on his face: guilt? sadness?

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I had no choice", He stands up now and I match his movements, snapping my hand up to his forearm as I had last time we were in this exact position.

"Don't..Don't leave me here again Calum- I don't think I can survive this heartbreak again."

He looks down at his forearm with a deadpan, looking back up at me.

"Calum, Please. Answer me." My voice was wavering as I tightened my grip on his tattooed arm. His pupils were enlarged as he stared down at me, his chest rising and falling as though he was mentally battling with himself inside his head.

"CalPalll!", I hear a squeal from behind us. His eyes widen for a brief moment before he tears his arm from my reach, whirling around to where the voice is coming from. He was met with a tight embrace and a sloppy kiss on the lips by a brunette with kind eyes. It all happened so fast, that I wasn't even sure what I was looking at until he pulled away with guilt written all over his face.

My nickname. Different girl.

I nodded a few times, reaching down to grab my purse slowly all while keeping my eyes on the doe eyes looking back at me. I looked over my shoulder at the table set for two behind me, suddenly understanding everything.

He invited her here- to our spot. He didn't expect me to show up

"Y/n...", He starts and I raise a finger in response, adjusting my purse onto my shoulder before pushing past him with a harsh shoulder check.

My heels clicked on the pavement, throat closed up as I passed by the bench and tree one last time. I look down at my phone, noticing the time with watery eyes.

8:39 p.m

New voicemail in your inbox: 2 hours ago from CalPal

94 notes · View notes

odigaon · 9 months

Text

gym pics

summary: your boyfriend decides to post a not so innocent picture on bubble and you can’t resist him.

pairing(s): oh seungmin x afab! reader

warnings: unprotected sex (i think this is really the only one)

word count: 2.8k

unedited!

Waking up to a noisy notification on your phone was not how you really wanted to start your day. The brief nap you had managed to slip in after getting your daily to do list done ended up lasting far longer than you meant it to and left you feeling groggy rather than refreshed. Blinking your eyes open slowly, you blindly slide your hand across your bed to reach your phone.

Coming to the realization that it was a bubble message makes you smile to yourself, “Probably just one of the guys updating villains on what they’ve done today,”

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the heart attack waiting for you after your phone unlocks and opens to the bubble app.

Your boyfriend Seungmin, shirtless, covered in sweat, and a magic 8 ball sticker covering his face. Holy hell. This was NOT what you expected to wake up to. Frantically closing and reopening the app, you’re met with the same exact sight. Your boyfriend, looking absolutely scrumptious. You admittedly stare at that picture longer than you needed to. I mean, who wouldn’t? Every single villain is probably having the same thoughts about Seungmin that you are right now which undoubtedly makes you a little jealous, however, you can actually do something about it.

Quickly hopping out of bed and striding over to your dresser, you pull out a simple t-shirt that once was Seungmin’s and a pair of exercise shorts. You debate on whether to change your steadily dampening underwear, but ultimately decide to leave it on as a little surprise for your boyfriend. You shoot a quick text to Seungmin to let him know that you had woken up from your nap and were on the way to the company to join him at the gym. After pulling on your clothes and throwing your hair up in a small ponytail you receive a text from your boyfriend.

“oh baby you don’t have to come here if you just woke up! it’s getting late so I’ll probably be leaving here soon anyways.”

A small pout frames your face at that, but you understand that he’s been hard at work all day so you don’t want to keep him there any longer than he wants to be.

“oh okay. do you wanna come over after you’re done? i miss you :(.”

“of course i wanna come see my baby! i’ll be there soon, my love :).”

At that you sigh happily, missing him was sometimes hard on you. Lately with the group’s comeback coming up you haven’t gotten to see Seungmin nearly enough to satisfy your craving for him. Laying back down on your bed, you decide to turn on the TV and wait for Seungmin to arrive at your apartment.

After about an hour, you hear your front door close and Seungmin call out for you, “Jagiya? Are you awake?” Lifting your head up off the pillow and turning down the volume on the TV, you call back to him, “In my room, babe!” You hear his footsteps start down the hall and continuously grow louder until they stop just outside your door.

“Knock knock?” he says whilst pushing your door open.

He softly walks into your bedroom and closes the door behind him, leaving him standing in front of you in a pair of black sweats, a white tank top, and a black jacket. God you could really jump his bones right at this moment.

“You know it doesn’t really qualify as knocking if you don’t actually knock?”

A small giggle leaves him at that. After shucking off his jacket and laying it on your desk chair, he starts to walk over to you to give you a quick kiss before going to shower.

“You comfy in there?”

You sure as hell are. You’ve wrapped yourself in a cocoon of blankets, but little does he know, you’ve given yourself just enough wiggle room to where you can thrust your arms out and wrap Seungmin up before he can run off.

He leans over you and places his left hand next to the right side of your body and his right to the left side of your head.

“Have you had a good day today?” he asks in a soft voice.

“Yeah. I just ran some errands and cleaned up around the house. Dee has been out all day with Junhan.”

“Oh yeah? Well we know what they’ve been up to then, huh?”

You laugh a little at that. Yeah, you know what they’ve gotten up to. The periodic texts from your best friend let you know that they had went out and run some errands of their own, and then went back to the dorm and fucked for hours on end.

Seungmin smiles at you and begins to lean down towards your face to give your long awaited kiss and you decide to make your move.

“OOMF!”

You shoot your arms out of the blanket and trap them around Seungmin’s neck; effectively startling him and allowing you to trap him against your chest for a brief moment. Using all the leverage your body can muster, you roll over with Seungmin so you can trap him beneath you.

“What the h-”

“What the fuck was that picture you sent on bubble today Oh Seungmin? Huh? Do you want me to die? Do you want me to kill YOU?”

His whole chest starts to shudder with laughter.

“Ah I forgot you had my bubble, baby. Did you like it?”

“Did I like it? Are you serious right now?”

You sit up so you’re straddling his abs. Seungmin starts to let his hands travel up your legs and up to your waist where his hands seem to have a mind of their own and begin to rub your hips. It doesn’t even seem like he’s paying attention to you anymore. His eyes have begun to rake up and down your form sitting atop him.

“Fuck is that my shirt baby? And my favorite shorts?”

His hands reach around to grab a handful of your ass. Now this was not a part of your plan. You were supposed to fluster Seungmin and be in control of the situation; not the other way around. The smallest moan escapes your lips and you pray Seungmin doesn’t hear, but unfortunately the way his eyes find yours tells you that he in fact did. His hands travel back to your hips and gently push at them until you’re forced shimmy backwards: directly over his hardening cock that you can feel perfectly through his sweats and your thin exercise shorts. Your tongue darts out to lick your suddenly dry lips before Seungmin sits up and captures your lips with his. A surprised moan leaves you but is muffled by Seungmin’s mouth against yours.

“Mi-Min ah fuck, please,” you whisper after you manage to part from Seungmin for a brief second. You’re not even quite sure what you’re begging him for, but you know what you want the end result to be: his cock inside you.

You feel his hands start to slowly grind your hips back and forth over top his hips. Grunts begin to leave his mouth as he quickens your pace. Your hands begin to fumble around searching for the hem of his tank top. When you finally find it, you begin to frantically tug at it to alert Seungmin of your desire to rid him of it. After finally taking the hint, he pulls away from you in order to pull the piece of clothing over his head and toss it away from your figures. He then goes for the hem of your shirt and tugs it off of you along with your sports bra before pulling you back into him. His lips slowly and sensually move against yours before his tongue slips out to attempt to part your lips. Allowing him entrance, your tongues begin to dance around each other.

Before long, he’s flipping the two of you over and trailing kisses down your body. Quiet moans are leaving you at your boyfriend’s sensual touches. He reaches the waistline of your shorts and you lock eyes with him before he smirks and begins to pull them and your underwear off you.

Spreading your legs so he can get a good look at your pussy, he starts trailing his lips and fingers up and down your inner thighs to tease you.

“Min. Please. I’m begging you not to tease me,” you muster.

“What? My baby doesn’t like it when I tease her?” he chuckles.

“No please Min. I need you.”

At that, he pushes his arms underneath your thighs and throws your legs over his shoulders, grabs your ass, and buries his face in your pussy. God that tongue of his. It’s working magic over your clit and across your folds. His lips then wrap around your clit and begin to suckle lightly while his right hand leaves your ass and begins to make its way to your entrance. His middle finger circles your entrance before slowly pushing in and out to stretch you out and prepare you for a second finger. Even with one finger you’re already keening and beginning to feel the first effects of your orgasm creeping up on you. After pushing a second finger in, you realize that the picture Seungmin posted on bubble must’ve really affected you a lot more than you think. Your orgasm is already fast-approaching and Seungmin isn’t showing any signs of edging you like he normally does.

“Mi-Min ah. I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me baby?”

“Are you gonna let me?”

“I’m feeling nice tonight. Cum whenever you want baby.” he says just before reattaching his mouth to your clit.

That’s all you need to hear before the floodgates are opening and you’re releasing all over Seungmin’s face. He stays between your legs while you ride out your orgasm and only stops once you start to twitch out of oversensitivity.

“Feeling good baby?”

“Yeah,” you moan out, “I want more, Min.”

“More? What more could you possibly want, huh?” he teases.

“Please Min, don't make me beg.”

“I let you cum whenever you wanted. The least you could do is beg for it a little.”

You sigh out. Of course he’s going to make you beg for it. Nothing is easy with Seungmin when it comes to sex.

“Please Min I want it so bad. Wan’ your cock inside me. Wanna cum on your cock and be good for you, please. Wanna make you feel good, Minnie.”

He groans a little at your begging and pushes himself up to strip off his remaining clothes. Afterwards, he kneels in front of you in all his naked glory, with one hand wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping himself to get ready to finally push inside you.

When he finally does, it feels like heaven. The groan Seungmin lets out is magnificent and your pussy is wetly clamping down on his cock and making it harder for him to push further inside.

“Ah ah baby. Relax for me, beautiful. Can’t fuck you how you want if you don’t let me in.”

You whine at that and try your best to relax yourself. Eventually, the tenseness leaves your body and Seungmin promptly begins to slowly fuck into you.

“There we go, baby. I knew you could do it for me.”

You start letting out quiet moans as his cock drags against that especially sensitive spot inside you that only he can seem to find. You feel like you’re already on cloud nine: one orgasm down and another seems to be fast approaching. You let your hands wander up his arms and across the expanse of his back where he feels your nails bite into skin, causing to arch his back and drive a little deeper into you. You bite your lip to muffle yourself, but Seungmin is having absolutely none of that. He just starts fucking into you harder.

“You thought you were gonna come to the gym in those clothes baby? What? Did that picture turn you on so much you started thinking with your pretty pussy instead of this pretty little head of yours? You forget that you’re mine baby. I don’t think I like the intentions you had with wearing that and planning on coming to the gym. You know how many people could’ve seen this perfect ass of yours? How many guys would’ve been drooling over you?”

You can’t even think at this point. The words he says make sense, but seem to go in one ear and out the other. Your nails start leaving bright red lines down his back in attempts to ground yourself in the midst of him fucking you like a slut. Your orgasm that once was only fast approaching, is now leaving you teetering at the edge of a precipice. But you know better than to cum without permission.

“Mi-Min. Minnie. Seu-Seungmin. Can I? Please can I cum?”

“Cum for me baby. Wanna feel you cum around my cock.”

You let go and swear that you black out just a little bit from the intensity of the orgasm. At this point, only high pitched whines are leaving your mouth coupled with the need to feel Seungmin cum inside you.

“Please! Seu-Seungie. Min-Minnie please I need to feel you. Please, please, please…” you babble out.

He lets out a hoarse chuckle at that, “Oh yeah? Does my baby want me to fill her up with my cum? God you’re such a good girl. I love you so much baby. Don’t worry, I'll give it to you.”

After that, his thrusts speed up with the intent to fill you. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head with the force behind his thrusts. Seungmin’s lips find yours as his rhythm becomes sloppy, and with one last thrust Seungmin is sitting up on his haunches while he grinds himself into you in an effort to cum as deep inside you as possible. His grunts and groans are music to your ears and evidently your pussy as well because before you know it you’re coming again. His hands grasping your hips are leaving harsh fingerprint marks that will surely bruise tomorrow, but you could care less.

His hands release their grip on your hips and go back to rubbing your sides and legs.

“You doing okay baby? I wasn’t too rough was I?”

You can barely get the words out but you manage a quiet “Mmhm. Feel good,” and Seungmin smiles at you.

“I’m gonna pull out now okay, baby? I’m gonna grab a warm towel to clean you up okay?”

He slowly pulls out of you and you wince slightly, but Seungmin remedies your pain with a quick kiss on the lips before springing out of bed to go grab the necessary materials to clean you up. After striding out of your room, completely naked and looking delicious enough to have you wanting another round, he returns with a small towel and begins to gingerly wipe the cum and sweat off you while humming softly.

Tossing the cloth off to the side, Seungmin quickly lays down and pulls the blanket over the top of both of you and then opens up his arms as an invitation for you to snuggle into him, which you gladly accept. Burying your face into his chest, you can feel his heartbeat and his breaths becoming slower and longer. You know in your heart that this is where you belong. Right here, in your bed, in the arms of the man you love more than anything in the entire world.

“I love you, Seungmin.” you mumble.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

Just then you hear the front door open and shut. You and Seungmin both look at each other in confusion, before you realize that it’s probably just your best friend/roommate and maybe Junhan.

Your suspicions are confirmed when you hear two sets of footsteps walking down the hallway just before they reach your door.

“Can I come in?” you hear Dee ask through the door.

“Yeah its safe. Be warned I am naked, but I’m under the covers.”

“I don’t know if I want to come in then.”

“JUST GET IN HERE, JESUS.”

Your door creaks open before Dee exclaims, “Why the fuck does it smell like sex in here- Oh god nevermind!” before she’s slamming your door shut.

“YOU COULD’VE AT LEAST TOLD ME THAT THE BOTH OF YOU WERE IN THERE!”

You and Seungmin both erupt in laughter before you turn and snuggle back into him. Yep. This is exactly where you’re meant to be.

a/n: thank you all for all the love on my last post! i hope you all enjoyed this one!

#xdh smut #xdinary heroes hard hours #xdinary heroes hard thoughts #xdinary heroes smut #xdh hard hours #xdh hard thoughts #xdh x reader

102 notes · View notes

sjhhemmings · 5 months

Text

Welcome Home

jeff clarke x fem!reader

a/n: hiii let me know if u guys enjoyed this. i got this idea when i was rewatching szn 2 of chicago fire and it got to the plot line where his wife left him after he came home from deployment. heart literally shattered :(( i’ve had this idea for a couple days now and i was inspired, sue me. ily guys, make sure you like, reblog, and do all that jazz to support your writers. hugs and kisses to you all, happy christmas season to those who celebrate 🎉❤️💚

warnings: swearing, fluff, kissing, anything i missed.

Working a 12 hour shift the night before your husband comes home from a year and a half long deployment wasn’t your first choice.

Originally he was supposed to be home after 8 months, but then his contract was extended to 10 months. Then extended again to 12, then finally extended to another 6. Each phone call broke your heart worse than the last. There was nothing you wanted more than to see your husband again. Especially on the hard days when the only thing that got you through was the thought that your husband will be home soon.

3 weeks ago on the dot you got a phone call. Your heart shattered. You were certain that he was going to call and tell you his contract got extended another 2-6 months and that you wouldn’t be able to see him again.

*3 weeks ago*

With tears already building in your eyes and your heart in your throat you answer the phone with a shakey hello.

“Hi Baby! I uh, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Clarke’s voice was initially excited then dropped then second he heard the heartbreak in your voice.

“Oh, nothing. I just miss you is all.” Finally letting out a sob after the last sentence, you truly couldn’t stop the tears.

“Hey, hey, I miss you too. Everything will be okay. I just got some good news actually.”

“Oh yeah?” You say sniffling with a little more hope into the phone.

“Yeah, I just talked to my sergeant and he said I get to come home at the end of this month.”

The second you heard those words leave his mouth, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. Time stood still. God had finally answered your prayers.

“Baby?” He asked after about 30 seconds of silence from your end.

“Yeah, yes, I’m here. I’m just-“ You cut yourself off with a choked sob. The amount of ecstasy you’re feeling right now is truly overwhelming.

“I know, I feel the same way.” He says with his voice cracking also.

“So, do you have an exact date? That you’ll be home?” You ask more composed after collecting yourself for a few seconds.

“Sarge is thinking about 3 weeks, but no later than 5.” He says a little more excited now.

“Jeff, I, I don’t even know what to say right now. I love you so much.”

“I know baby, I love you too. I actually have to go, Sarge is calling me right now, I’ll see you when I get home,”

“Yes, go, you’re fine. I’ll see you when you get home.” You say with a little giggle hanging up the phone because it’s almost too good to be true.

*Present Day*

Now you’re here, rushing around your house to get ready. You got home at 3 AM last night after an emergency trauma surgery at med. Of course it ran long, and of course you were supposed to be up and ready by 7 to see your husband finally come home.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You mumble to yourself as your looking for your other earring, and left shoe simultaneously in your cluttered house.

Fuck that was another thing you should’ve done. He hasn’t been home in almost two years and now he’s coming back to a dirty house.

Once you’ve finally found your other shoe, and your earring, you face yourself in your bathroom mirror and take a breath. Touching up your hair and buffing out a few things with your makeup, you’re ready.

You grab your purse and begin to walk to your door when the bell rings. Opening it hastily because you literally need to leave right now, you drop your purse at the sight.

“Y/N,” is all he says before you quite literally pounce on him. You wrap your arms tightly around his neck, and your legs around his waist. He holds your body up securely and with ease with one arm while the other combs through your hair.

You’ve imagined this moment for months now. What you would say, what you would do, how you would even greet him again? But all of that planning went out the window the second he stood in front of you again.

After maybe two minutes of you now sobbing all of your freshly done makeup off onto his shoulder, you pull your head back and cup his face in your hands. He lets you down to hold your face the same way. You couldn’t believe it. Right now, you’re staring deeply into the love of your life’s eyes. You two months ago would’ve never guessed this is where’d you be now. It’s almost too good to be true.

“You’re real right? I’m not dreaming?” You whisper with your faces barely inches apart.

“I’m real, you’re not dreaming.” He says both of you giggling at the butterflies swarming between you.

You weren’t going to lie, all of this time apart had you worried the two of you had changed. That when he came back nothing between you would be the same. That he wouldn’t be the same person who left. But after 5 minutes of him being back, you know that even if anything did change, he’s still the love of your life.

A little nervous to make a move you stay frozen with your faces just inches apart. You don’t know why, he’s your husband. You shouldn’t be nervous like you’re 12 years old on the middle school playground afraid to hug your crush.

Your eyes glanced maybe one to many times between his eyes and his lips and you watched his do the same, you slowly move your face in, slightly afraid of rejection, you grin just a bit as you notice he’s moving his face closer too.

The second your lips touched it was a slow and delicate kiss.

You moaned into his lips as you could feel more tears streaming down your face. This was the thing you craved most while he was gone. Just being able to kiss your husband after work. If it were up to you, neither of you would work again and you would just stay at home together forever. The passion and fire setting through your body grew.

Jeff ended up pulling away leaving you wanting more. You look up into his eyes through your hooded lashes trying your best to make sure this was real and not a dream.

“Let’s go inside.” He finally mutters through heavy breathing making your eyes light up. You walk backwards pulling him in as he’s grabbing his duffle bag with one hand and the other around your waist.

Shutting the door with his foot, he rips his shirt off making you truly question how sane you look right now. All you want to do right now is devour this man, but you hold yourself back as you admire his abs. Okay, maybe having a marine for a husband isn’t that bad.

“Are you just gonna stand and stare, or are you going to do something about it?” He asks seductively.

You chuckle at his challenge and walk toward him rubbing your hands down his chest.

“I could stare at this all day, baby.” You say now turning around also stripping your shirt off.

“You know what? No more games.” He finally says turning you around and carrying you over his shoulder into your shared bedroom.

Once you’ve finished having the best, most magical, passionate sex of your life, you’re laying tangled with your husband under the sheets never leaving if that were a choice.

“Abstinence was not for the weak.” You mutter as you listen to his heartbeat with your head on his chest.

“I know baby, you’ve been a good girl for me though, right?” He adds with a hint of worry on the last word.

“Always,” You whisper looking up at him and capturing his lips. “Welcome home”.

#jeff clarke x reader #jeff clarke chicago fire #chicago fire #one chicago #jeff clarke one shot #jeff clarke fan fiction #jeff clarke chicago med #y/n #chicago fire oneshot #chicago fire x reader

49 notes · View notes

aussiepineapple1st · 1 year

Text

Never Fly Near Giant Mold Monsters

This story is set in Resident Evil 8 Village. An AU of Chris calling on Leon's help with the Megamycete.

Ship: Chreon Words: 2,938 Contains: blood, death, angst, slight fluff.

Chris had been sitting in a tent his team set up in the forest, holding his phone in both hands. He was contemplating on calling Leon, they hadn't spoken in two weeks and the first thing he was going to ask was for help. Chris knew he would be here as soon as he could, but this was big. He had Ethan somewhere in Heisenberg's domain, his men keeping track of his whereabouts while they all worked behind the scenes to try and find Miranda. She had kept slipping out of his sight for 3 years now, but now that she had basically told them where she was, it was just a matter of searching every inch until they find her.

Chris hadn't slept in what felt like weeks, feeling like he had let the Winters family down after trying to keep them safe. Damn it! Why did everything he do blow up in his face lately? Rose had been taken, Mia was missing, and Ethan was being beaten to a bloody pulp by every creature in this god forsaken village.

He looks down to his phone one more time, he can't do this alone, he needed help, and who else than Leon? Pressing the call button on Leon's name he places the phone up to his right ear, praying to whatever had been keeping him and Leon alive for all these years, that he wasn't on another vacation he would be pulling him from. "Chris? It's been a while." Leon answered almost soon after the call had come through. "Leon." Chris seemed to pause, long enough for Leon to pick up on something. "Chris? What's wrong? Has something happened?" There was concern in the slightly younger man's voice over the phone after hearing the long silence. "Well. Yes and no? You know the Mold I found a few years ago in Louisiana?" "Yeah? Don't tell me you found more of it?"

"I have, and this seems to be the rout cause of it. I ran into a few problems with the Winters family, again. Mia had been replaced by a woman by the name of Mother Miranda." Chris explained the whole situation to Leon. Everything from him shooting her in the safe house, to Rose being kidnapped and now Ethan gone rogue in the village. "You didn't think to tell me any of this? How long have you been after Miranda?" Leon asks, annoyance in his voice. "3 years..." Chris said squinting as he waits for the earful from the other side of the line. "3... 3 YEARS?!" There was the sound of shuffling from Leons end of the line and Chris could only imagine he had been sitting down, now standing on his feet, probably pacing. "Right.. Where are you? I'll grab a small team and come to you."

"Romania, I'll send you my coordinates now." Chris says pulling the phone from his ear and sending through his exact location. Putting his phone back up to his ear, Chris waits for confirmation.

"Got it. I'll be there as soon as possible, I'm currently in Germany. Just took care of some BOWs." Leon explains almost about to hang up.

"And Leon?" Chris said quickly sensing he was about to end the conversation.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, I really need your help." He said smiling softly.

"Don't mention it, I'll be there as soon as I can. Stay safe." Leon then hung up so he could make his way to Chris as fast as possible. Cursing under his breath as he gets to calling the few people left from his current mission.

"Love you too." Chris said to the phone with a sigh.

-----*Several Hours Later*-----

Chris was staring at the Village from the top of a hill his unit had set up camp on. Arms crossed over his chest sighing heavily, his breath visible in the freezing air. Pulling out a cigarette, Chris lights it, sucking on the butt he felt a slight amount of tension leaving his shoulders. A glint on his left hand catching his eye as he looks to the golden wedding band on his ring finger, giving it a small twist on his finger his ears perk up. That was the sound of a chopper, Leon was here. Taking one more suck of the cigarette he drops it on the snow covered ground and stomps it out. Looking out over the towards the mountains behind the castle, a black helicopter had appeared. Flying over the center of the village, Chris could feel his tense shoulders relaxing.

"That your backup, Alpha?" Speaks a male's voice fully kitted out, ready for whatever would be coming, they had already lost two people in their group by being here, he didn't want to be next. Chris only gives a nod as something below the helicopter caught his eye, reaching for the sniper rifle the man beside him was holding, he looks through the scope. His eyes widen as he saw a large arm of the mold bursting up from the ground. Chris reaches for his phone, handing the rifle back to his man as he calls Leon.

"I'm just over the village, can't you wait for me to land?" Leon quips, a smile on his face.

"Ascend! NOW!"

"What?" Leon didn't have time to think before the black mold had wiped the entire tail of the Helicopter away from the body. "Shit!" Was all Chris heard before the call was hung up. Chris watched in horror as the helicopter started to spin out of control, he notes which direction it was heading and runs as fast as he could calling anyone who gets to the car to come with him. Two of the men in his group were ready and hopped in the vehicle, Chris took off in the direction the helicopter had just crash landed. Driving over small trees and leaping off a few small cliffs they made their way to a small clearing, Leon had managed to direct the vehicle there. Better to be in an opening rather than in a bunch of trees. Chris puts the vehicle in park and runs out of the car towards the wrecked helicopter. A body was on the ground, but it wasn't Leon. Directing one of the two men to check on him, Chris saw Leon's figure lying on the ground of the passenger section of the vehicle. Fire engulfing the entrance as on of the others had been impaled by metal, already a charcoaled corpse.

Chris rips off his large black coat and runs over to the wreckage, leaping through the fire and landing next to Leon's body. He picks him up gently in his arms standing to his feet. Hopping slightly on his heals as he exhales, psyching himself up to run back through the flames. There was a hissing sound coming from the back of the helicopter giving him the signal that there was a tank about to explode. He leaps through the fire just as the explosion pushes him further through the air, wrapping an arm around Leon's torso, a hand cradling his head into Chris' chest as he hits the ground. Rolling in the snow Chris grunts as he was laying on Leon's limp body, he looks back at the helicopter. Moving to his knees Chris hooks his hands under Leon's arms, dragging him back away from the helicopter. Just in case it decided to blow up again. "Leon!" He calls trying to wake the unconscious male in his arms. Gently resting him down in the snow Chris kneels on Leon's right side. A gloved hand resting on Leon's chest as he lay in the snow. Nose and mouth bleeding, a large gash on his left shoulder and another unknown injury causing his navy blue, button up to be soaked in blood on the right side of his lower abdomen.

Chris looks over his husband's body, laying there in front of him in the snow. "Leon! Damn it! Don't do this to me!" He said cupping Leon's face in his gloved hands. One of his other men that had joined him here, walks over holding out Chris' black coat he had ripped off his body before leaping into the flames. Taking the coat with a look of thank you to his man, Chris placed it under Leon's head. He then pulls up Leon's shirt, revealing a large, bleeding gash to his lower abdomen. "First aid kit, STAT!" He looked up to the man still standing beside Leon. Nodding the man runs to the car grabbing a second kit and hurries back to Chris. Kneeling down the man pulls out some supplies. Chris had done a quick examination of the wound while waiting, concluding it wasn't deep enough to have done any serious damage. Maybe the muscle was broken through, but not any deeper.

Chris immediately grabs the alcohol wipes and cleans away as much blood as he could, doing a quick swab inside the wound. He then begins to sew up the wound, once finished he sits Leon up with the help of the other man and wraps a bandage around his lower abdomen as well as his shoulder. Chris had done the same treatment there. Relaxing slightly, Chris looks over to the second man of his group, who was walking over to the three of them. "He's gone, sir." He addresses. Kneeling down beside his teammate. "Damn it!" Chris punches the ground, his head hanging low. Looking to Leon still unconscious in the snow he couldn't help but feel tears threatening to leave his eyes. He had put them all at risk, he shouldn't have called.

"Sir... Alpha." One of the men called trying to get Chris' attention. He then lifts his head to look up at Men. "We should get him back to camp."

"Right." Chris replied. Taking the coat from under Leon's head, he placed it over his body and scoops him up in his arms once again. Walking to the large vehicle he had driven here in a hurry, Chris slides into the back, Leon's head on his lap as the other two sit in the front. "We'll get him to camp and he'll be fine." The man sitting in the driver's seat assured his boss as he started to drive back.

Once at camp he climbs out, pulling Leon into his arms once again, walking him into the medical tent where two of his team lay under white sheets. He averts his gaze and places Leon down on one of the cots, pulling up a stool beside him. The medic of the group takes a look at Chris' handy work, giving a nod and fixes Leon up a little more while checking on his vitals. She places a hand on Chris' shoulder to comfort him. "You did good, Alpha. Quick thinking on your part, the wound on his stomach hasn't done too much damage. He'll live." She assured, placing an oxygen mask over Leon's nose and mouth to help combat the smoke in his lungs. I'll come back and check on him in a moment. I'll give you two some time alone. And Alpha? Don't beat yourself up. You didn't know this would happen." She said patting Chris' back before she leaves. Chris was now in there alone with Leon, he reaches up to take his hand but stops when he sees the blood soaked into his gloves. Ripping them off he throws them to the ground and wipes his hands on his pants, trying to remove any blood that had soaked through.

Now taking Leon's hand from under his coat still on his husband's body, Chris held it tight, his thumb caressing the back of Leon's left hand. Running his fingers over the bloodied wedding band on Leon's finger, he couldn't help but break down. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he brought his head down to Leon's hand, holding the back of it to his own forehead as he cried silently.

-----*20 Minutes Later*-----

Chris had profusely apologised to Leon as he cried, but after a while he had gathered himself and made is way out of the medical tent. Calling his team together around the map. They had started to make a plan as he couldn't just sit around, there was Mold bursting out of the ground everywhere in the village, they needed to make a move. His team gets a visual on as much of the Mold as they could from their vantage point and makes a note of it on the map. "Alpha." Called a female voice, she had Chris turning his head as soon as he heard her speak. "Someone would like to see you." She smiled.

Her smile caused a sharp pain in Chris' gut, pure relief knowing Leon was alright and now awake. Rushing past her and to the Medical tent, Chris bursts through the material doors, immediately looking in the direction of Leon's cot he had placed him on. Bright blue eyes were staring at him when he had entered, the oxygen mask off his face and now replaced with a tube, tucked behind his ears to keep it in place under her nose. Chris jogs over to Leon and falls to his knees, placing his hands on either side of his face, kissing him. A long, wet kiss as Chris had already started crying once seeing his husband looking back at him. "I thought I lost you." Chris sobbed as he pulls away from the kiss and wraps his arms around Leon.

Leon only had the strength to gently pat a hand on Chris' back. "Okay..." He says weakly. Chris could hear how little strength his husband had and pulls back to give him some space, his normally hardened look that his squad knew, was now full of worry. He knew just because Leon was awake, doesn't mean he couldn't pass away at any moment due to any underlining injury, infection or still even blood loss. Leon looked around seeing the other cots empty, looking up to Chris. "My men? Did they make it?" Leon asked, having a feeling he already knew the answer. Chris just looks down and shakes his head. "Damn it!" Leon replied, resting his right hand over his eyes. Chris could tell he was trying to be strong but his bottom lip was quivering. "I shouldn't have called. I'm so, so sorry." Chris said tightening his grip on Leon's left hand. "I've caused so much pain, my squad, the Winters, you... I don't know why I'm still doing this." A gentle hand was placed on Chris' arm, causing his head to lift and look to Leon who was giving him a frown. "Don't say that, we have both lost so many men in our time. But you still keep fighting. If it weren't for you, all of this would still be getting worse. And in our line of work that just means more of a clean up." Chris could only scoff a small laugh at the thought of more of this Mold. He had found where it originated from, and from what he had experienced with this stuff, if you take out the source, the rest will crumble.

"Fine... You're right. It's just so much." Chris said, his shoulders lowering as if the weight of everything had become too heavy. Leon reaches up to place his right hand on Chris' cheek.

"I know. But we have to keep going. For the sake of this planet and the living things on it."

"Okay, now you're showing just how much blood you've lost." Chris teased, taking the hand on his cheek and pulling it to his lips, pressing a kiss on Leon's knuckles.

"You should probably get going.. It sounds like a lot is happening out there." Leon stated, not wanting to ruin the moment. But there was a job to be done.

Chris nods. "Yeah.. I'll be back soon. You get some rest and I'll see you when this is all over." He says moving to his feet, but leaning over Leon to press one more kiss to his lips before standing up. Leon held onto his husband's hand for as long as possible before he was out of reach. Leon's hand reaching out to Chris as he walks out of the tent.

"You come back to me Redfield, you hear?!" Leon called out hoping Chris would have heard him.

-----*2 hours Later*-----

Chris runs back to the chopper his squad had waiting for him, baby in his arms as he hands Rose to her mother.

"Where is Ethan?"

"Take us up we have to get out of here, NOW!" Chris says walking passed three bodies under white cloths. The Chopper takes to the skies and hurries out of the village as Chris stares at the three bodies. He feels his heart clench and felt a stabbing in his gut. There was the explosion knowing Ethan was now gone.

"Chris? What was that? Where is my husband?!"

"He's gone!" Chris says slamming his fist on the wall. He then walks over to the body placed on the seats and pulls back the cloth, revealing the pale, peace face of his husband. Falling to his knees Chris stares as Leon's face, reaching down to pull his left hand free from the cloth and holds his hand.

Mia saw the wedding rings on both their hands and placed a hand to her mouth, He was feeling the exact same loss she was right at this very moment. Standing up she walks over to place a hand on Chris' shoulder. "I tried..." Chris sobbed. "I tried to save everyone."

Tag List🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @c1a1r3r3df1e1d

#angst #blood #chreon #chris redfield #death #descriptive death #ethan winters #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x chris #mia winters #re8 #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #rose winters

71 notes · View notes

nawtponchoesquire · 10 months

Text

Oh god, this manga is about me: Dead Dead Demon's Dedede Destruction

On December 2nd, 2022, a YouTube livestream broadcasted the rollout of Northrop Grumman’s latest technological marvel to thousands of people. Countless hours of R&D, cutting edge engineering, and assembly all lead to this moment. Northrop Grumman CEO Kathy Warden spoke from a podium about “the next generation of capability” and “defining what this nation is capable of when we work together” while the livestream chat gawked and called her Mommy.

After Warden’s speech, the hangar door behind her slowly opened. Blue stage lights cast a powerful aura over a hulking monolith draped in a white cloth. Cinematic orchestra music blared and the lights pulsed with the music. The chat screamed “TRUMP 2024”, “METAL GEAR”, and “MOMMY” still, if you can believe it. The music reached its explosive crescendo, and the curtains dropped: the B21 stealth bomber was introduced to the world in all its glory.

Admiral Christopher W. Grady called it an “Airborne Extended Deterrent”. In his speech after the reveal, Grady waffled a bit about national security, and about how this plane REALLY matters and was, like, TOTALLY worth the tax dollars, guys. “This isn’t just another airplane. It’s not just another acquisition. It’s a symbol and a source of the fighting spirit that President Reagan spoke of” he said.

Livestreams and marketing of this nature aren’t uncommon in today’s late capitalist dystopia. Gun manufacturer Heckler and Koch shows off flashy trailers of their submachine guns, edited with a slow-mo Booj and the musical timing of a Battlefield trailer. At the time of writing, there’s even an extremely late sale on their website for “MARCH MAG-NESS”, with a toggle at the top for civilian and law enforcement of course.

When looking at these pieces as part of my research for this post, I’m left with a sinking feeling that’s hard to describe. I feel swallowed by a culture and a system so determined to casualize warfare, to justify violence against a perceived, sometimes invisible threat. As the planet warms, the rich elude responsibility, and I whittle away my days at an office job, precisely one thought bounces around in my brain: “I can't wait to go home and play videogames”.

This exact feeling is captured in amber by Inio Asano’s latest finished work, Dead Dead Demon’s Dededede Destruction! (henceforth referred to as Dead Dead Demon’s). Set 3 years after a UFO appeared above Tokyo, Dead Dead Demon’s follows two high school grads just living their life while the literal and figurative “end of the world” looms overhead. What starts off as an unassuming pre-apocalyptic slice-of-life unravels into a deeply fascinating vivisection of our current geopolitical climate and how its effects trickle down to the youngest generations like countless streams of Ronald Reagan’s piss.

It’s impossible not to see the political implications of Dead Dead Demon’s. After the giant UFO suddenly appeared above Tokyo, The Japanese military panicked. They shot down the countless smaller UFO’s that poured out of the main craft, raining debris down on Tokyo’s denizens. Thousands were killed, including Kadode Koyama’s father. Kadode’s mother, left traumatized and paranoid after this tragedy, becomes the manga’s version of a conspiracy truther. 3 years after 8/31, Kadode’s mother leaves Tokyo and her daughter behind to live in a commune with her new boyfriend.

In the midst of her high school graduation and early college career, Kadode is left alone. Or, she would be, if not for Ouran Nakagawa, her childhood best friend. Ouran is Kadode’s rock-solid foundation. As the manga comes back to time and time again, they are absolute; an unwavering, unconditional love connects the two in a way that’s rarely portrayed in manga. A running theme throughout the manga is that the people you love can pull you through anything, not through fixing your problems, but simply by being by your side. Or at least, it would be. More on that later.

The duality of Kadode and Ouran is explored throughout the manga in such a way that it builds the two protagonists to be distinct but codependent. Kadode, a victim of bullying in elementary school, developed a discomfort with how easily society labels its ingroups and outgroups. Her only respite from relentless bullying was Isobeyan, an ongoing gag manga that her father worked on.

The titular Isobeyan and his incredible technological gadgets allow a neurotic teenage girl named Debeko to find wacky solutions to her problems. Debeko, unable to escape her own cycles of narcissism and self-loathing, constantly relies on Isobeyan’s gadgets to get her way. Kadode sees her own destructive tendencies in Debeko, and fantasizes about using Isobeyan’s gadgets to fix her own life; it’s a potent fantasy to give someone who is marginalized. Full-color snippets of the fictional manga bookend each volume of Dead Dead Demon’s, serving as a clear visual and structural metaphor for the invaders and how their advanced technology would seem to be able to fix anything.

While Kadode Koyama is cynical but reserved, Ouran Nakagawa is a firehose of sparkly anticapitalist rage. She’s brash and completely unfiltered, swinging from scathing cynicism about the future of Japan to raucous joy about the latest patch for her favorite FPS within literal seconds. Ouran is the candle that burns twice as bright and twice as long, loudly proclaiming herself to exist in equal parts joyous laugh and viscous battle cry.

However, that’s not the whole story. Beneath the mask is a deeply empathetic high school girl who really just loves the people she surrounds herself with. She may tease her friends after a bad date, but she’s there to hug them while they cry. Although she talks a lot of shit, she clings to her friends like they are the most important people in the universe to her. Ouran embodies both the hopeless circle-jerk of being at the bottom rung of late-stage capitalism and the boundless love that powers us through the worst of times within that system. And yet, further beneath that, something stirs within her. More on that later.

The alien invasion is a clear allegory for (INSERT HOT-BUTTON GEOPOLITICAL TOPIC HERE). It’s equal parts climate change, refugee crisis, and 9/11. The so-called invaders don’t exactly live up to their name, being about the height of a grade-schooler and waddling around with cute old-fashioned submarine helmets on. They are about as unassuming as an extraterrestrial threat could possibly be, and we even get some chapters with the invaders from their perspective as they try to survive in Tokyo’s quarantine zones. To them, Earth is a hellscape they did not intend to die on. And oh my god, do they die.

This is the part of Dead Dead Demon’s that pulls on some horrible discomfort deep within me. The genocide of the invaders is sponsored by tech industry giants like Samsung and Google, literally mowing down crowds of child-sized invaders with machine guns, while Kadode and Koyama go about their daily lives just a few blocks away. The dissonance between high school antics and the screams of what look like dying children hits close to home. It’s impossible not to see the parallels between how we, as consumers in a post-industrial society, often live willfully ignorant to the cruelties our lifestyles enable.

I’ve grappled with the question, “what is Dead Dead Demon’s Dededede Destruction about?” ever since I first sat down and read it. After a third re-read, I’m not sure that I could boil it down to one specific, sexy thematic clause, and that seems intentional. Inio Asano, the manga’s author, is notorious for creating stories that revel in complexity. Dead Dead Demon’s welcomes, interrogates, and explores a whole host of questions about life in the modern era. And then… the big reveal happens at the midway point; the truth of what this story was really, always about.

Spoilers from here on out, folks. The manga takes a pretty significant turn, one that I actually really like, but it will give you whiplash if you aren’t ready for it.

Okay. So. Time Travel.

The Ouran we’ve seen throughout the first half of the story is without a doubt eccentric. The glimpses of her that we see in flashbacks, however, look like a totally different person. As a child, Ouran is shy and quiet and rolls with the punches. She even stands idly by as Kadode is bullied by her awful classmates. For lack of a better term, she’s perfectly normal. Somewhere along the way, something seriously changed for her.

When Ouran and Kadode were young, they barely spoke. The story goes that they grew close over a summer cram school stuck together, but the secret that brought them together builds out the world and history of Dead Dead Demon’s in a pretty surprising way: Kadode and Ouran found an invader 8 years before the invasion of Tokyo.

Kadode and Ouran go full ET mode and keep the invader disguised in Ouran’s bedroom. After some debate on what to do, the invader finally speaks up for themselves using a small alien device as a translation tool. The invader’s purpose for coming to earth is clear; they are a scout sent by “the home country” to see if Earth is a good place to finally come and colonize.

The interaction here between the scout and these two schoolchildren is fascinating. The scout speaks in vague terms, but they make it clear that humanity exists on earth to create a breathable atmosphere for the invaders, much like how trees create a breathable atmosphere for us. Invaders are beings that aren’t so strongly tethered to a body or physical form; compared to humans, the invaders are actually much more spiritual and transitory. Their child-like bodies only exist as a vessel through which they interact with the world around them.

Kadode and Ouran are bestowed with an impossible burden. They believe that they must prove themselves, and by extension humanity, as welcoming and friendly to this alien civilization. The scout is content to watch this with scientific, unobtrusive collectedness. If they can get a clear read on humanity and its potential threat to the home country anyways, the scout might as well entertain these two girls’ efforts.

Through actively volunteering to do good, the girls feel like they are painting a good picture of humanity for the invader to see. However, it soon becomes clear that the system they are a part of is too big for two small girls to change. Kadode and Ouran can’t do anything about the scandalized politicians, con artists, and criminals. Kadode, fully grasping the situation and its implications, decides that she can do more. No, she needs to do more.

Kadode manages to steal a few powerful tools from the Invader. A small device that sends a devastating force out from its tip, enough to send a car tumbling sideways. An invisible cloak that perfectly obscures its wearer. A device worn on the head that allows one to fly. When these technological marvels are put together, Kadode goes from being an unassuming grade schooler to something else entirely: a vigilante dead-set on purging the horrible people from this world.

Before long, news started to break of a train wreck, and of a politician turning up dead after a hospital stay for a minor medical issue ended with a bullet-shaped wound. Ouran’s favorite pop band member quit, and suddenly the concert was canceled thanks to a technical accident. Over the course of a few days, Kadode has been tracking down horrible people, nearly killing them, and asking them one simple question, “Tell me the worst person you know.”

Ouran finds out that Kadode has been doing this vigilante work, and for the first and only time in the manga, they fight. Kadode, grappling with the sheer weight of trying to fix our world, is left cold, distant, and apathetic. Ouran finds this new side of Kadode to be frightening and alien, like she doesn’t even know who she is talking to. After an argument and a brief physical confrontation, Ouran is left alone for the first time. She is devastated.

Kadode doesn’t show up to class for a few weeks. Then she moves away. In one last ditch effort, Ouran goes to Kadode’s new home and asks to speak with her. Kadode is disheveled, but seems somewhat happy to see Ouran. Therapy has convinced her that Kadode hallucinated or dreamed up her vigilante spree, but talking to Ouran reminds her all too well that what she did was real. The people she killed, the burden of proving humanity to be good, and the destruction of her relationship with her best friend, all push her beyond her limits. She can’t do this anymore.

In the middle of their brief conversation, Kadode jumps from the fourth story of her apartment building.

This series of events, observed by the invader, force them to come to one conclusion: Earth cannot be trusted and should not be visited by the Home Country. Hopeless and devastated, Ouran asks the invader if there’s anything they can do to bring Kadode back. While the invader can’t bring back Kadode, he can do something else: transplant Ouran’s consciousness to a different timeline. This would come with all sorts of risks, such as mental deterioration, but it would allow Ouran to relive her summer school cram days to do things right. Ouran could direct the timeline so that the two never encounter the invader all those years ago. Ouran ultimately accepts the invader’s offer.

I’m kind of obsessed with this decision because it underscores the tragedy and beauty of Ouran as a character. The crazy, chaotic Ouran we’ve been with for the entire story is actually a time traveler from another timeline. Since she never met with the invader, the Home Country was not notified that Earth was dangerous, and thus they appeared above Tokyo, killing Kadode’s father among thousands of other people as collateral damage. When given the choice between inadvertently destroying humanity and losing the one person that gives her life meaning, Ouran chose for herself. I really can’t blame her for that. What good is humanity anyway?

There’s more to this story, entire twists and plotlines I’ve glossed over and cut out of this post, but this moment speaks to the core of what this manga is about. Dead Dead Demon’s is about aliens, time travel, and corporate espionage, but it’s also about the people that need to live beneath those exact colossal forces battling overhead. When the system is this fundamentally broken, filled with flashy ads for the newest line of submachine guns, giant alien-destroying mechs sponsored by pop stars, and live streams where the CEO of a death machine company is called Mommy, it’s impossible not to feel weighed down by it all. The sheer scope of capitalism has never been more visible and more damaging to its denizens.

I often feel like my life is a rollercoaster. Right now, I feel like I’m at the part of the rollercoaster after the big buildup, where an amazing view beckons to me. I’m at the top, but I can feel gravity subtly pulling me down. In our current moment, the system is buckling under the weight of problems created generations prior. The rich are getting richer, the poor are getting poorer, and basic hopes like owning a house or even a new car are well out of reach for many, many people. Without sweeping change, we’re fucked.

I can’t wait to go home and play videogames.

#manga #essay writing #dead dead demon's dededededestruction #inio asano #essay

20 notes · View notes

shady-lemur · 11 months

Text

Stargirl ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4!!!

Hii whores!!! Sadly this is the last part 😭😭 thank you so much for the love you've shown this lil series.

Ex gf!Ellie x reader

You and Ellie are finally deciding to give your relationship another try after everything you've been through.

1 year, 7 months, and 8 days after that night with Ellie

"Jesus christ els.. can you please put some sunscreen on before you play?" Ellie frowns at you but walks towards you, "I don't even get burnt."

You shake your head and take her shirt off, leaving her in her black swim top and shorts. "It doesn't matter, getting burnt isn't the only reason people wear sunscreen."

She rolls her eyes as you start to apply the lotion for her. She mumbles a, "I can do it.." But you know she enjoys you doing it for her. "You wanna do it yourself?"

She looks at you and shakes her head.

"We can't be out late tonight so we'll swim and hike but I told Dina we couldn't come back to see the fireworks tonight, mkay? We have therapy tomorrow at 8."

Ellie nods and pecks your lips as you finish rubbing in the sunscreen.

"Can you get my back for me please?" You hand Ellie the bottle and turn around. Ellie hums and carefully starts to rub in the sunblock on your back, making sure to get around the straps of your green bikini.

After she's done she presses a soft kiss on your shoulder before patting your ass. "All done, do you want me to set you up a spot to read?" You smile at her and nod.

Just then you hear Dina calling your name. You turn around to see her, Jesse, and JJ walking to you and Ellie. Jesse is trying to carry a cooler, towels, two beach chairs, and JJ's beach toys as Dina runs up ahead with their son in her arms.

"You finally made it out of the beach house!!" You clap. Dina bows playfully and puts JJ down in the sand so he'll start "helping" Ellie set up the umbrella and chair.

"Jesus christ going on vacation with a 2 year old is the hardest shit I've ever done in my life." She huffs, you pat her back in comfort and smile, "I can watch him for a while if you and Jesse wanna swim without him. I was gonna read."

Dina's face lights up and she smiles, "really, you sure you don't mind? He might try to run off a couple times..."

You shake your head and look over to see Ellie giving him a high five and a "fuck yeah!" as he helps her open up your beachchair. "I don't mind at all."

Dina thanks you and helps Jesse set up their chairs and JJ's toys before running out into the water, Ellie follows behind them after giving you and kiss and patting your ass once again. (She really likes your green bikini 🤷‍♀️)

You turn to JJ, who's giggling to himself as he plays with the sand. "Looks like its just you and me now.. want me to make you a mermaid tail?"

He nods and you get to work on digging a small hole for his legs.

Its been over an hour. Its been two hours and 48 minutes to be exact. But Dina, Jesse, and Ellie were having fun riding the waves and you were having fun reading your book and gently petting the two year old's hair as he peacefully naps on your chest.

You were drinking a caprisun and reading "the secret history" with JJ sleeping on you when Ellie comes running over.

"You sure you don't wanna swim babe?"

You shake your head and smile at her as she gulps down some water. "No, I'll swim tomorrow before we leave."

Ellie nods and sits down next to you and JJ.

"Are you ready to leave? I wanna go on the big trail before the sun goes down."

You cover your eyes to block out the sun, "sure. Are Jesse and Dina gonna come with us?" Ellie shakes her head, "no fucking losers are tired already."

You hum and put your book back in your bag, "okay, can you go get them so they come get JJ and I'll start packing up our shit." Ellie salutes and gives you a "yes boss" before running off again.

"Ellie cmonnn!! We're almost to the top."

You happily run ahead and eventually make it to the lookout point at the top of the trail. You see miles of green trees and hills with a beautiful glow from the sun starting to set.

"Els! Oh my god look at how beautiful."

"Y/n" Ellie says nervously behind you. You can't even focus on what she's saying because you're too busy taking pictures of the view. "Y/nn"

"One second els."

"Y/n!!"

You huff and turn around, accidentally taking a semi-blurring picture of her on one of her knees with a-

Wait a damn minute....

"OH MY GOD?????" You look down at your girlfriend in shock as she holds out a beautiful ring. "Ellie what the fuck???"

She chuckles and holds the ring out higher, "y/n, I know I wasn't the best person I could've been for the first 4 years of our first.. relationship. But being without you is a feeling I never want to feel again. Can you- fuck.. - will you marry me?"

You feel like you're vibrating with excitement and can literally only get the words Ellie, fuck, and yes to come out of your mouth.

Ellie smiles and slips the ring on your finger before pulling you into a passionate kiss. You smile into the kiss and when you pull away Ellie immediately pulls you into a hug.

"You're gonna be my fucking wife."she whispers into your ear happily. You smile at her and nod, "Im gonna be your fucking wife."

Ellie laughs and presses kisses anywhere her lips can reach while murmuring about the life you two will live.

1 year after the proposal

Ellie cries when you walk down the aisle. She tries really hard to keep it together but she just can't when you happily walk (probably too fast) towards her.

You smile as she grabs your hands and completely block out everything the officiate says because your soon-to-be-wife looks soooo damn good in her suit....

Everything about today was perfect. JJ did amazingly on his flower boy duties. Dina helped you get ready as your maid of honor while Jesse gave Ellie pep talks all morning. Your dress was perfect, Ellie's suit actually fit her perfectly. Joel showed up in time to give you a huge hug before the ceremony and tell you how greatful his is for you. The flowers were perfect. You and Ellie were perfect.

You both just stare at each other and cry and giggle and hold each other's hands like you'll slip away if you don't. Once the officiate finally tells Ellie to kiss her bride SHE DOES......

Teeth and everything because you're both just so excited to finally be fucking married. Once you both pull away Ellie grabs your hand and starts to run.

Ellie laughs and runs down the aisle as you try to keep up while waving at your family. She runs out the doors, down the hall of the venue and into one of the private bathrooms.

"You're my fucking wife!!!!!"

You look at her disappointedly once she closes the door. "Els, we cannot have a quickie in the bathroom right after the ceremony.."

She frowns slightly and starts to pull up the skirt of your dress a little bit, "are you sure...??" You sigh and shake your head before helping her lift it up so she can get under it.

9 months after the wedding

"Els, how was work?" You ask as your wife walks through the front door of your new house. She shrugs and sets her coat down before going to give you a hug.

"It was fine. Nothing excited really happened." You hum and give her a kiss before tucking her hair behind her ear. She gives you another kiss and then rubs your hips as she talks, "how was work for you? Do the kids like the book you picked out?"

You laugh, "the kids don't like anything I do. I think they like the book though, it really speaks to some of them."

She softly gropes your thighs as you talk.

"Do you want chicken for dinner or do you wanna order out?"

You feel her hands travel up, "up to you babe. I'm okay with anything."

"Okay.. We'll have the chicken tomorrow, I'm so fucking tired tonight I can't cook."

Ellie lifts you up and makes you wrap your legs around her as she walks you to the couch.

"Oh my god Ellie put me down!! You've got car grease all over you." She plops you down on the patted seats before kissing your temple. "Find a good movie for us to watch and order us whatever you want. Ill go take a shower."

You smile at her and nod, "thank you els."

She gets out out of the shower and into your arms about 15 minutes later, only getting up to get the door dash and utensils.

You comb your fingers through her hair as you both doze off, the only words you hear before you fall asleep are "I love you" coming from your wife's mouth.

RAAAHHHHH

Okay time skip...

Im absolutely destroyed about this series being over but now I'm kindve thinking about writing something for Abby because I saw this MAGICAL edit of her today omfg...

I love you guys sm (^з^)-☆Chu!!

Taglist <3

@gold-dustwomxn @catostrophiclesbian @ellieswifee @unstablefemme

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #tlou part 2 #ellie x fem reader #tlou fic

20 notes · View notes

onekisstotakewithme · 1 year

Text

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

Tagged by @thebreakfastgenie (you should check out her work, it's amazing), so thank you Sarah 💜

(This isn't the exact last ten fics I've published, but close enough for jazz, yeah?)

None of Us are More Than Caretakers

The beeping of CJ’s pager jolts her from a light doze, and it takes her a minute to orient herself as to where she is.

(The West Wing, ongoing WIP; set between "The Last Hurrah and Institutional Memory", essentially a 'passing the torch' story)

2. Aurora

There’s a certain kind of serenity that comes in the hour before the sun rises.

(The day BJ comes home, from Peg's POV)

3. You're Gonna Die Bloody (and All You Can Do is Choose Where)

It’s a warm, sultry summer night, but as CJ steps into her apartment, her phone vibrating insistently against her leg, the chill of the air conditioning makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

(CJ tries to protect Danny during the investigation into the shuttle leak; part 3 of "Butch & Sundance", but can be read as a standalone).

4. A Night to Watch

CJ should be working her way through a stack of briefing memos on the situation in Kazakhstan, but every time she flips open a new folder, her mind starts to wander.

(Election Night, 2006)

5. Fallout

CJ’s outer office is still filled with military men, and she barely has time to set her coat down before jumping into the fray.

(CJ and Danny play phone tag as they deal with the fallout from their dinner and the San Andreo incident; Tag to Internal Displacement/Duck & Cover)

6. Welcome to Korea... Again

Hawkeye never expected to step foot in Korea again.

(Korea, 1972)

7. As Years Unfurl

Grand Central is bustling as always, BJ craning his neck to see over the crowds.

(Ten years after the war ends, under the clock in Grand Central Station, BJ and Peg wait for Hawkeye)

8. The Fall

It’s well after midnight by the time CJ gets home from work, her apartment quiet and dark, save for the sound of the ticking clock over the sink and the moonlight leaving stripes on the floor.

(Danny calls CJ after her first day as Chief of Staff; Part 2 of "Butch & Sundance" but can be read as a standalone)

9. etymology

As BJ continues putting up the decorations for the party, everything bright red and cheerful-looking – exactly to Hawkeye’s specifications – there’s a feeling in his chest that he doesn’t have a name for.

(the evolution of the triad, the evolution of language to describe them)

10. The Fall's Gonna Kill Ya

The moon is rising over Washington when CJ gets back to her apartment, a spring breeze rustling her skirt as she walks up the front steps.

(When CJ is offered Leo's job, there's only one person she wants to call with the news; Part 1 of "Butch & Sundance", can be read as standalone)

Anyone who wants to do this is welcome, but I'll tag @just-fandomthings @neekerbreeker @claudiajcregg and @fieryphrazes

NO pressure, just love sharing words 🥰

#writing #cj x danny #bj x peg x hawkeye #bj x peg #m*a*s*h #tww #the west wing

19 notes · View notes

anyaispunk · 1 year

Text

Morning and Coffee

Summary: Tom looking back at their moments while drowning alone in misery.

Word Count: 599

Note: There will be 3 parts of this story. I really do hope I make you cry.

Part 2 Part 3

“Damn it, I really need that coffee.”

Tom whining at 8 in the morning was not a usual thing in their house. Today is an exception. Unfortunately, this morning, his palate doesn’t get a chance to be devoured by the taste of his favorite caffeine.

The smell of breakfast still hangs in the air. After fighting the urge to stay in his warm hug, yet it feels like they’re holding each other for dear life, she decided to make scrambled eggs for the long hours of work he had to do a day before.

He wasn’t making it easier though. Feeling the motion of his wife trying to escape his much bigger figure was enough to wake him up.

“Where are you going?” he groaned. Doziness consumed him. His sore muscles needed nothing other than her warmth.

Chuckles escaped from her mouth. The image of them arguing about whose more clingy in the morning was coming back to her head.

“I’m making breakfast today,”

He gave her a confused look.

“As a reward for my annoyingly irresistible man for working so hard to keep his wife well-fed,” she added.

Big grin now plastered on both of their faces.

Filthy ideas rushing through his mind. He decided to let one of them slipped through his tongue.

“Well… if you want to give me a reward. I have a better proposition to offer you, my lady.” his voice turned dark as well as his eyes. Steadying each of his hands on both sides of her head, his breath became closer and closer as he was towering her.

Smile slowly fading from her face. Knowing exactly what he was going to say or do next. Taking the advantage of loosened grip, she ran out so quickly, leaving Tom dumbfounded and lost of what to do next.

He joined her to the kitchen. Practically running, because he was chasing her down like a snake trying to catch its meal.

Acknowledging that she was being chased, the feel of blood pumping through her veins made her screamed of excitement. Her laughter echoed through the hall.

This was it.

This was the only thing that Tom needed.

What he wanted.

This was more than enough.

The feel of her presence in the house.

The feel of her skin under his scarcely touch in the morning.

Her teases and her laugh.

Her.

Her was the only thing that he would never take for granted. Even in the beginning of their relationship, he always appreciated every small things they had. Even when everything was going really well, never, for once, he forgot to thank God for blessing his life with her.

Waking up from his memories, he remembered that day when his coffee maker broke, just like this morning.

Furious, embraced by his lack of boost after a sleepless night and anger of her absence, he threw his coffee mug to the floor.

Glass shattered on the floor. The exact replica of his heart’s current condition.

He didn’t care.

He didn’t even bother to clean it up.

Because everything already feels like a mess, and he doesn’t have a clue on how to uncontaminated this mess from pain.

Picking up his car keys from their keyholder in the hallway, he stormed out.

He needed his coffee.

Driving to the nearest coffee shop was his number one priority.

His car parked neatly in front of the coffee shop. As he pulled his keys from the keyhole, he couldn’t deny a familiar face sitting behind a table near the fragile transparent wall when he looked back up.

He froze.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston imagine #fanfic #imagine #tom hiddleston angst #sad imagine

15 notes · View notes

kat-and-their-cats · 3 years

Text

How Is This Place Worse Than Australia?

Chapter 1: Welcome to UA, Here’s A Quirk Assessment Test, Have Fun With That!

AO3

Chapters: 0, 1

"What did you want to talk to me about?” I politely question the mammalian principle, who continues to sip his tea thinking for a moment before putting it down on the small coffee table between us.

“I was wondering how Eraserhead got you to agree to teach here, after all you are known for being one of the busiest heroes in the world, you work 19 hours a day almost every day of the year and offer to work on overseas cases in your free time.” He stated as I took a sip from my teacup.

“He called in a debt that I owed him from when he saved my life a couple of years ago, I cleared some of my schedule and switched my cases in Australia for the Japanese cases that I was working on prior and here I am.” I tell Nedzu, who looks at me with his intelligent eyes which seem to be looking into my soul.

“So, he didn’t mention the whispers of an attack at UA then guilt trip you here using the debt as a secondary reason, his persuasive skills need improving then.” Not looking into my soul then, just reading my body language to get the data that he was looking for.

“Well, he did that too, but I didn’t think that you would appreciate knowing that one of your more senior staff was looking down at the school’s security and the student safety protocol. Also, you seem to be getting rusty, he mentioned that you were letting All Might teach here and the only teaching position that had constant free lessons when he was teaching was International Studies. So, I’m here to make sure that All Might doesn’t do anything too stupid because he is underqualified for teaching. If you don’t mind it's 20 minutes until class starts and I want to talk to Eraserhead before he starts his first lesson,” I say as I stand up and walk to the door before bowing respectfully to Nedzu, grabbing the class notes and putting them into my book bag before leaving his office to hunt down Aizawa.

I caught up with Aizawa 10 minutes before class started in the staff room. He was laying under his desk in his sleeping bag looking over some notes from what I can assume is either a case file or his class files. I sat down on his office chair that was pulled out from under his desk, lowering it so that I could sit comfortably while talking to his caterpillar self. “Which training ground are you going to use for their quirk assessment?” I asked, looking into his eyes as he shifted his gaze away from the papers.

“P.E. Training Grounds, do you want to act as a student for it? It would give them a comparison with what someone their age can do with a bit of training once we reveal it.” I shake my head in response.

“I’d rather blend in with the class but analyse their quirks instead.”

“Well, you better get on your way then or else I’m going to have to lecture you for being late,” Aizawa snarks as he slides out from under his desk looking over at the clock that reads 8:23, two minutes until homegroup starts. I quickly walked out of the homeroom towards class 1-A which was thankfully just around the corner managing to slip past three students who were talking in the doorway. I walked to the lonely desk at the back of the room that I can assume Nedzu or Aizawa had placed there for this exact reason. The table was placed in the middle at the back of the room between a tall brown-haired student and a student with red and white hair and a scar who I can only assume to be Endeavour's son, Todoroki Shouto.

I placed my book bag on the ground next to the table resisting the urge to take out the class file that I was given in Nedzu’s office to discover the names and quirks of the students in this class. Instead, I looked across the room seeing that the conversation that the three were having in the doorway had come to a halt as Aizawa was lying on the ground in the doorway still in his bright yellow sleeping bag.

“Welcome to UA’s hero course. It took eight seconds for you all to shut up, that's not going to work, rational students would understand that. Hello, I’m Shouta Aizawa, your teacher. Right let's get to it, put these on and head outside.” He instructed the class pausing between sentences to look over the classroom making eye contact with me. The class walked hurriedly to the front and grabbed their P.E. uniforms before heading to the changing rooms, I was slightly thankful that nobody had noticed or commented on me not wearing the proper uniform, considering that I was only wearing the uniform dress pants and a white button up shirt.

Once in the changing rooms I realised that changing might be an issue, my scars would be an obvious signal that I wasn’t a regular student, so I used my shadow to create a thin layer over my skin in areas with lots of scars while I slipped off my shirt and into the P.E. uniform. It attracted a bit of attention but was easy to wave off as part of my quirk. I was changed quickly and hurried out onto the P.E. grounds for the quirk assessment, I got there as Aizawa walked out of the building, he looked me over giving me a slight nod as some other students started to slowly finish changing and headed over to where we were, he subtly gestured to a notebook sitting open in the shadows of the building with a pen lying next to it. I looked over at it using my quirk to lift the pen resting it on the page, prepared to take notes on the students' quirks and what I think that they could do to improve control over them. Slowly the rest of the class approached the group, and I could tell that Aizawa thought that they took too long changing.

Once Aizawa had scolded class 1A for taking so long he began to introduce the quirk assessment. Aizawa informed the class that it was like their usual school physical assessments in P.E., but they were allowed to use their quirk to assist them in any way that they can think of. He then got an angry blonde student with an explosion quirk to toss the ball as far as he could using his quirk, the ball flew 705.2 metres as shown by Aizawa’s phone.

The class went through the quirk assessment with only a few weird looks as to why I wasn’t joining in that I brushed off, focusing on analysing their quirks noting that a green haired otherwise plain looking boy wasn’t using a quirk seeming to struggle, a bit anxiety getting the better of him. I noticed Aizawa looking critically at him, seemingly judging his worth and possibly considering expelling him. I looked directly at Aizawa, getting his attention and shook my head at him. Aizawa was too far away to hear it, but the green haired boy was analysing his classmates' quirks with the same quality as a trained analyst while doing the assessment, probably as a nervous reaction.

When the class went back to do the ball toss Aizawa singled out the green haired boy, Midoriya, about how he was planning to use his self-destructive quirk recklessly after cancelling his quirk. Midoriya looked taken aback by what Aizawa had said for a second before nodding to himself grabbing the ball and throwing it, I could see that he was going to try something and that his quirk was either new or he hadn’t had the ability to train it by how he pushed all of the power that it generated into and out through his finger to propel the ball 705.3 metres. The finger was purple and obviously broken from the amount of force that was pushed through it.

He turned to Aizawa and said something while I was focusing on the reaction of a blonde-haired student who yelled at Midoriya while he threw the ball. He moved towards Midoriya aggressively, explosions bursting forwards from his palms as I wrapped a shadow around his ankle and Aizawa erased his quirk. I released his ankle as Aizawa wrapped him in his capture weapon and pulled him towards him staring into Bakugou’s eyes as he scolded him for attempting to attack a classmate.

Once Aizawa had put Bakugou down he turned to the screen and displayed the results. They were just about what I expected with the recommendation students ahead of the class and Midoriya who hadn’t used his quirk until the ball toss in last place.

“Are you going to expel any of them, they all show some potential though I don’t like how Mineta looks at the girls?”

“No, I’ll have a conversation with Mineta if anyone complains or you notice him acting on his impulses.”

The class turned towards me and Aizawa, Midoriya looking clearly put out expecting Aizawa to follow through on his earlier plan of expulsion. “I am not going to expel any of you, it was a logical ruse.” Midoriya relaxed and some of the students started to grumble about being tricked when a recommendation student, Momo began talking.

“I thought everyone knew that it was a trick to get us to do our best, nobody would approve of a student getting expelled on the first day of classes.” I sighed clearly, even the recommendation students don’t know how free UA’s teachers really are with their teaching, especially Aizawa.

“Actually, Aizawa has a history of expelling students including several first day expulsions. In fact just last year he had expelled his entire first year class in the first week of school and he has the highest overall expulsion number in the whole school despite being a relatively new teacher. If you don’t meet his standards, you won’t last long in this class, especially if you don’t show that you can or want to improve and become the best that you can.” Class 1A looked at me in shock as Aizawa sighed, shaking his head at my antics.

“Yes, I do have the highest number of expulsions of the teachers, but you all showed that you are interested in trying your best and improving your skills, hopefully both with and without the use of your quirks. Anyway, get changed out of your P.E. uniforms and head back to the classroom where I will run you through the curriculum, teaching staff, rules and expectations of being a UA student and especially one of my students.” I turned and headed to the changerooms as he finished his sentence followed a few moments after by Momo the other girls.

I entered Class 1A after changing out of the P.E. uniform. Aizawa wasn’t in the class yet, most likely getting the class's time table and curriculum guides from his desk in the staff room. I wandered back over to the desk at the back of the classroom leaning back in the chair and staring up at the ceiling as the rest of the class filtered into the room with Aizawa following shortly after calling me over to hand out the curriculum guide as he ran through the main subjects for the first-year hero course on the board. After giving everyone their timetables and curriculum guide, I sat down at the back of the class and pulled out a different notebook than the one that I had used for analysis earlier and started to make a lesson plan for the following day’s international heroics lesson.

I focused back onto what was being said as Aizawa was explaining the optional classes for 2nd and 3rd years and that while they had to be completed before graduation you could choose what year you did them in, these classes included international heroics, underground heroics, support heroics and forming a hero agency. Aizawa then faced the class and with the most tired of life expression asked, “Are there any questions about how things will be running this year?”

Immediately several hands shot up across the classroom. Aizawa’s eyes slid across them looking to see who he should ask first, most likely trying to identify the more responsible students. Finally he gestures for Iida to ask his question. “Didn’t you say there are only 20 students per class, and why aren’t you strictly enforcing the uniform policy, there are several people in the room not wearing their uniforms correctly?”

“There are 20 students in the class, the table at the back of the room is for the international heroics teacher when they supervise All Might’s foundational heroics lessons as he is yet to get his full teaching license, in fact they have been sitting in here the whole time as they don’t have anything better to do today. As for not enforcing the uniform policy, the ties are optional and as the years go on less and less people wear them.”

“What, are you not going to introduce me to the class Aizawa? That's a bit rude isn’t it.”

“Class 1A this is the international heroics teacher, Jonni Mohanjot more commonly known as the Australian vigilante Midnight Hunter or the Pro Hero Eclipse, if there are any more questions about them, please direct it their way otherwise. Put your hands up for questions about the class work.” There was silence and nobody put their hand up to ask a question.

“Then feel free to use this time to get to know each other. Just keep the noise down, only wake me up if there is an emergency.” As soon as Aizawa crawled back into his sleeping bag, he slid under the table and seemed to go to sleep.

The class paused, seemingly processing what Aizawa had said. I started to gather my stuff before people got up and started to move around the room. I headed towards the staff room hoping to find All Might and run through the lesson plan for the first foundational heroics lesson. Upon entering the staff room, I noticed All Might wasn’t there despite having a free period. Assuming that he was out on patrol I put my analysis notebook on Aizawa’s desk and sat down at my desk to finish my international heroics lesson plan hoping to catch All Might in the staff room before his first year heroics lesson tomorrow.

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #How is this place worse than Australia fanfic #bnha oc insert

0 notes