#jill thoughts yet once again

[a-thousand-lives-lost-for-peace]

hi hello it's me again with more Jill thoughts.

Jill I think was definitely into photography, based on the camera she owned and the books in her apartment - such as the Wartime Photojournalism set she has in her bookcase. I think she probably took most of the photos she used in her investigation herself. Along with this I definitely think she was also quite interested in history, given the Egyptian statue she had on her bookcase and the numerous books she had on Caesar.

Similarly with the books she had - it seemed she was quite into mysterys and thrillers/action books, though she did have some nonfiction.

Considering the amount of CDs next to the stereo too it definitely looked like she was a fan of music.

[mo0nfairy]

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART FIVE !

summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 8.7k.

content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, blood/gore, violence, death, weapons, drugging, kidnapping, stalking, noncon touching, invasion of privacy, mentions of sexual assault, parasites/infections, & needles.

ada wong's yandere traits are . . .

lucid, romantic, & confident

──── Ada Wong hates the sensation of grass on her skin. Yet still, the green matter stains all her clothes.

She'll spend her days laying in fields of grass. It tickles her skin and provokes her allergies, but she cannot fathom living without it. If she closes her eyes, she can almost stimulate the feeling of being with you once again. September 28th, 1998. On that road verge with dirt caked on her skin and a dandelion in her messy hair — Ada is convinced she is the only human who has ever been touched by such intense, perfidious happiness.

A beige trench coat littered with these same stains is preserved in her walk-in closet. It has not been worn in years, not since that night in Raccoon City. There are the occasional splatters of blood and gunpowder residue, but they are insignificant in comparison to the vivid green smudges. During rough patches, Ada will take the coat from its plastic covering and hold it close to her chest. If she closes her eyes again, she can almost convince herself it is you in her arms instead of this filthy, out-of-season garment.

As difficult as it is, however, she cannot let these feelings reach her heart. She cannot let herself feel for you.

She made this declaration long ago. Six years ago, to be exact.

Y/N L/N. The name she will never forget.

Ada remembers your evocative touch, your bunny-like shivering, your skin like flowers; she will never forget how you ended her life in Raccoon City.

The onslaught of inhuman, guttural growling had died down with the echo of gunshots. All flesh-eating creatures surrounding her now lay dead on the streets of Raccoon City. Now, a heavy silence sits. And the fear that follows slices into her flesh like a jagged knife. But, not for her life, no. For yours.

Ada briskly and anxiously scrutinizes her surroundings, searching for that jaw-dropping face she fell so hard and violently for. In the end, she finds nothing. All she is met with is the flickering lights of corner shops and the crackling of fire from car wrecks. When she looks down, however, Ada discovers the crumbled dandelion you gave her beneath the foot of her heel. Hastily, she grasps the precious weed and stuffs it into her coat pocket.

From here, attaining the G-Sample, selling it to the highest bidder, and earning more money than she could ever need was irrelevant. All that matters is finding you. Her darling petal, her bunny rabbit. Her salvation.

Ada's relentless efforts to find you result in Raccoon City being torn to shreds. Searching through Mizoil Gas Station to Umbrella's underground laboratory, all her attempts at bringing you back into her arms are brought to no avail. Ada is worn down and stained with grime, absolutely exhausted with dread.

It isn't until the golden sun rises does she learn of survivors being sent to a hospital outside of the city. She abandons everything in Raccoon City and high-tails it to Fox Park Hospital. Her feet ache from its uncomfortable stance in her stilettos and her lungs throb from the constant sprint. Still, nothing matters but you.

When she arrives at the hospital, she is overwhelmed with concerned families and tireless doctors. Several nurses inquire her about her physical state, but Ada disregards their concern entirely. She thought she could hide how perceptibly enamored she is with you through sly remarks and poised disposition. Maybe she'd conjure up some flattering remark to one of the doctors and bite her lip, all to gain access to your location. However, the only trait others can garner from her attitude is a desperate, downright feral act of despair.

Sharp nails digging into the shoulders of a poor nurse, she demands he inform her of your whereabouts. When the nurse squeaks out where you had been admitted to, Ada nearly punts him to the ground before breaking into a dash. She shoves past all other bystanders and bursts through the door to your room. And the way her heart surges in her chest upon entering could rival that of a genuine, torturous death.

There you lay, unconscious on the hospital bed. Bandages adorn the bruises and scars littered on your body. A white cast has been ensnared around your right arm.

The sight is nothing short of devastating. In a moment of weakness, she had so frivolously let you escape from her embrace. Now, you had to be the one who suffered the consequences.

Softly, Ada sits beside your sleeping form and restrains the urge to tackle you into a hug. It scares her, this sudden sense of warmth she possesses for you. She takes your weak hand into hers and shivers from the tender contact. I should not feel this way, she thinks to herself. Nothing about this is okay.

Despite the experience she has in the field of romance, Ada has never obtained genuine feelings for someone. All that lay beneath the surface of her seductive veneer was nothingness, sheer dust. She'll wear that coquettish nature like a crown and revel in the sense of power she feels of having someone beneath her. They care more about her than she does about them. And she loves it.

With you, though, things are different. Much different.

In all 24 years of her life, Ada never anticipated being slapped across the face with such raw emotion. The instance was ephemeral, but all-too devastating in the same breath. Dandelion between your fingers and the playful light in your eyes — the sight robbed her heart blind like candy from a baby. A lifetime spent in the depths of Winter, who knew a mere second of eye contact was all she needed to be lunged into the heavenly warmth of spring?

Ada is humiliated upon finding herself in the depths of such a ridiculous predicament. You have turned her into some lovesick monster, entirely incapable of maintaining stability. She thought she could control it; she thought she could shove you into a box with the rest of her past lovers. But, much like every other attempt she has made involving you, she failed miserably. No matter how hard she tries, she can't stop herself from being in love with you.

With this epiphany comes another. Every bruise, every scar, every wound on your body is living proof of what your life will become if she were to take you away. As badly as she wishes to take you and drown you in her adoration, she holds herself back. To live in complete bliss would mean robbing you of a good life; to ensure her happiness would mean robbing you of yours. By taking you away, her life would begin, yes, but yours would end. And if she were to take away the precious light you hold inside, she would never forgive herself.

The syringe she managed to snag from a passing doctor clatters to the floor. A physical manifestation of the realization seeping through her mind. For the very first time in her life, she cannot be selfish. For the first time, someone else's well-being is more important than hers.

She doesn't deserve you and you don't deserve her. You deserve happiness, you deserve normalcy, you deserve safety.

You deserve everything she cannot give you.

With a trembling breath, she affectionately drags the joint of her fingers down the side of your face. The mere thought of never being able to see this sight again shatters her. But for you, she would do absolutely anything, no matter how soul-crushing the pain is. Anything.

"Until next time, Y/N..."

The next six years were a tumultuous, frenzied blur. Ada Wong, notorious for her enticing personality, has crumbled.

Head-first, the agent had thrown herself into her work. Anything to keep her mind off of you. Or, at the very least, to look at the horrors she faces in her career to further remind herself you are better off without her. Every day, she oscillates with the idea of checking up on you, wherever you may be. It would be far too easy, as told by her skills. Though, if she were to do this, she knows she would not be able to leave you like she did six years ago. It had nearly killed Ada to leave you behind in that hospital. She isn't sure if she can survive that same pain all over again.

These gnawing desires keep her awake into the late hours of the night. Tossing and turning in bed, tossing and turning the idea of how good it would feel to have you in her arms. She wraps her arms around herself and caresses her own skin, pretending it is your hands on her body instead of her imagination. She feels weak, she feels deranged. But, she cannot help it. It kills her to not have you here with her.

She wonders how your life has changed since Raccoon City. What makes you smile, what makes you cry, if you're up at night thinking about her the way she does you. The misery nearly emulates the feeling of being butchered, as if you had personally cut open her flesh and sewed your name into her veins. But, Ada would do anything for you. Even if it means enduring the same torture every day, she is satisfied with life knowing she got to hold you. Even for just a second.

After a call with Albert Wesker, she is reminded yet again why you should not be a part of her life. To be exposed to this separate world would only be detrimental to you. She could never curse you with the burden that is her lifestyle. You deserve far more than that.

Ada teases the ring on her left hand. Mere hours after the crisis in Raccoon City, she preserved the dandelion you gave her and had it pressed into a ring. Six years later, this piece of jewelry has always ensnared her finger, as it remains her only source of security. The memory of you pulls at her heartstrings the way an angel plays a harp. In fact, it is the only memory she has that she can look back on fondly, as opposed to the bloodshed she has been so frivolously exposed to.

So absorbed in the warm rain of your memory, Ada nearly forgets the task Wesker had assigned for her. Abruptly and harshly, she is once again given another reminder of why you should stay far away from her. You make her weak, as Wesker told her, and neither of them cannot afford that weakness. She was fortunate enough to never disclose your identity with him, as he may have hunted you down in retaliation to her slacking efforts.

She doesn't know what she would do if she learned you were suffering out there. Wherever you are.

Opening the file Wesker sent to her, Ada scrutinizes the myriad of information sent her way. Through the grapevine, there was hearsay of Umbrella surviving the wreckage of Raccoon City. Satellite imagery displayed a vast forest where they had set up their 'sanctuary,' as they called it. Within the sanctuary were survivors of Raccoon City, where they would be kept captive to avoid exposing Umbrella and forcing them to face the consequences of their mistakes.

Her task was simple: find out if they have samples of Amber in their possession. If so, deliver the sample back to Wesker.

Of course, with this mission arose heavy concern. Images of you being subject to Umbrella's abuse sent a serrated rush of panic through her body. Ada had practically torn herself asunder with her efforts to protect you, she never acknowledged how other dangers may have slipped through the cracks.

A consideration, one much stronger than before, is what she is faced with. Giving into her selfish desires and having you by her side would benefit her happiness, yes, but it would also expose you to the horrors of her life. Leaving you without this burden in whatever life you had chosen for yourself would most likely benefit your happiness, yes, but would expose you to peril she cannot control. She would put her life down for your happiness, after all.

This consideration plagues Ada's mind as she is flown out to the sanctuary. Since the area was under investigation by another team, she had to play this smart, no matter how badly she wished to storm through the doors and hunt you down.

Yellow tape surrounds the entire premise, and numerous police officers and detectives are scattered amongst the area. Picking the lock to a window; Ada slides into the building with flexible ease. She lands with a bounce upon a bed. The springs whine beneath her weight; the headboard creaks with frail fragility. She finds herself in a sunken mess of fluffy throw blankets and tacky plushies. Climbing out of the array after practically drowning in it, Ada straightens her dress before scrutinizing the room.

The area is naturally stale. The same way a bleak, depressing hospital room feels. However, this detail is hidden beneath the mass of decorations and clutter. It is surrounded by love, despite its dull foundation.

A rickety bookshelf and stale bedside table are settled by the bed. On them are books checked out from the sanctuary's library, as well as wilting plants, a flickering salt lamp, dusty candles, and even more heaps of plushies. Ada's heels sink into a fuzzy rug as she studies the contents. A clothing rack can be found, too, with boring clothes hung upon it. Stickers and doodles adorn the supports, as well. 

Across from this was a sofa couch that sat opposite a chunky television. Cheesy horror movies are stacked on top of the thick surface. Another plant sits by the television in a custom-painted pot, leaves adorned in brown decay. Another plushie is rested against the TV, as well. God, how many stuffed animals does a person need?

Nothing within this small expanse relates to your whereabouts or the Amber, which eases Ada's mind. She lets out a sigh of relief. It would pain her in ways she could never fathom to know you were suffering in Umbrella's disturbed idea of a "sanctuary" while she was too busy trying to forget you.

Ada walks through the adjacent threshold and finds a small kitchen. Once again, the dull appearance had been diluted with heartfelt decor. Hand-crafted paintings are strung upon the walls. Some show the childlike fun of the artist, while others display the raw talent every brush and stroke exudes. A small table is huddled in the corner with a vase of Lego flowers serving as the centerpiece.

Cooking utensils, handmade clay figures, and tea sets are all scattered on the kitchen counters. A package of chamomile tea had been left out on the same counter and the shattered pieces of a mug had been left on the concrete. Strange, but it does not pull her attention.

It isn't until something catcher her eye while on her way out does her heart pound. By the art on the wall, beyond the scatterings of band posters and paintings, a myriad of polaroids had been taped into the shape of a heart.

And directly in the middle is a polaroid of you.

It is a candid shot of you in the sanctuary's garden surrounded by lush flowers. Fat, glittery smile on your face, there is more light in your eyes than Ada had ever seen. Beyond the jealousy for the photographer who got the privilege of drowning in that gaze, a sinking pit of dread sits like a brick in her stomach.

You were here. This whole time, you were here.

It only makes sense this is your room, she should have known. Who better to bring love into such a dank estate than you? You've made something bland more lively, as you do in all other areas of life. But, she was so concerned with roping you into the violent dangers of her life, that she strayed as far away from you as she could. Still, you found yourself here in the end. She was so concerned with keeping her vigorous feelings for you at bay that her negligence had caused you to be thrust into the darkest pits of this world. And nothing she can do now will erase the sheer weight of her frivolous mistake.

Her chest expands and deflates rapidly with hyperventilating breaths. Black dots swim in her doubled vision. Her skin is sheen with sweat. Nausea swims in her stomach. She collapses onto the bed, your bed. A quiet array of whispered "no"'s evades the cramped bedroom. She can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything!

"My petal, I'm so sorry. My sweet petal... How could I have let this happen...?" Ada is completely and utterly devastated.

The pervasion of an unfamiliar voice seeps in from outside the door. Ada covers her mouth to muffle the hyperventilating breaths protruding from her.

"T said they've fled to Spain. Fucking Spain, can you believe that shit?"

"Goddamn Umbrella... If only Oliveira were still here to see this. 'Give him somethin' else to do than daydream about his bitch, 'know what I mean?"

"I hear ya. Dude's a fucking nutcase."

Spain? Is that where you could be? Is that where Umbrella has taken you?

The doorknob jiggles and Ada immediately stands to her feet. Her swift nature had been robbed from her, as her legs now felt like two bags of sand. Her head throbs violently. It sounds like a tumultuous clammer before she succumbs to the turmoil and falls to the ground.

Sweat seeping down her forehead and her hands shaking, Ada attempts to pull herself up. She grips the corner of the bed frame and pulls her entire body weight. Her stiletto then accidentally kicks something beneath the bed. Looking for identification, Ada finds a plastic case with several cassette tapes inside. As she studies it, the doorknob jiggles once more. After greedily taking hold of it, Ada swiftly takes a few more souvenirs before leaving. The polaroid of you, a flower you molded out of clay, and an opossum plushie nestled on your bed. Then, she is off.

And within the penthouse that feels more like a model house than it does her actual home, Ada sits in her office. Inside the case full of cassettes, dates are written on each tape. Upon closer inspection, there's a sudden halt in activity after October. Almost as if Umbrella has lost interest in you. She prays this is the only reason, that they had released you and let you enjoy a life filled with the happiness you deserve. Thinking of the opposite has her whole body shivering.

Ada takes the cassette player in her desk and pops the earliest tape into place. She was so invested in finding where you had run off to, she had completely disregarded the gut-wrenching effect your voice would have on her. It's so... pretty. Like the first birdcall of Spring, like gentle waves crashing against the shore.

Ada is quick to grasp her control back, shifting her attention to the actual context of your words instead of how badly she wished to hear you whisper in her ear.

The contents of the tape display an audio journal, where you recall every horrid detail of the night that changed your life. You mention Leon Kennedy and Ada rolls her eyes from the annoyance his mere name brings. Six years have passed since she's seen him, or even thought of him, for that matter. But, the irritation that cop was marvelous at triggering still lives on. Of course, he's the first thing you talk about. She's sure he'd be ecstatic knowing this.

You speak about your time working at Mizoil Gas Station. When you trail off about your coworkers, your voice perceptibly drops when you speak of one in particular. With his wandering hands, sultry words, and a compulsion to ignore every 'no' you sent his way, you admit to yourself how good it felt to kill him.

As infuriated as this makes Ada, you then speak her name, and all coherent thoughts are stolen from her. She has to cover her mouth to restrain the sharp gasp that escapes. You do not speak thoroughly of your encounter with her, much to her dismay. Only detailing how she guided you out of the police department and protected you. Still, she revels in the harmonious melody of you speaking of her.

Ada can crawl out of cloud nine when you, unfortunately, move on to the next fraction of that night. To escape the zombies that attacked you and her, you sought protection in the local gun shop. There, you meet someone she was not aware of.

Jill Valentine.

Ada's eyes narrow when you speak of this woman. She can see the obvious signs of her being attracted to you, but you could be none-the-wiser to these affections. Your inability to heed flirtation is adorable if Ada were to be honest.

There's another transition to where you meet another man. Someone who, once again, Ada was unfamiliar with.

Carlos Oliveira.

He, too, showed obvious signs of being attracted to you. Which, once again, flew over your head. Both he and Jill had saved your life numerous times and you expressed this gratitude. To you, it was nothing but a common heroic act from two hardworking cops. Ada, however, read through the lines of their actions the same way she could read a children’s book.

They are in love with you. Hopelessly so. That much is clear.

It should be obvious. This is you we're talking about, after all. As much as she wishes they wouldn't, it is simply impossible to not become irrevocably besotted with you. Even if it were feasible, it would simply be brainless not to wish to spend the rest of forever with you.

The tape whirs as it reaches its ending point. Your story ends with waking up at Fox Park Hospital before being sent to this sanctuary. However, there is nothing that implies where your path has led six years later. There are miscellaneous updates on your physical health and your mental state, but there are zero indications of where you have vanished from.

With you gone and no reliable trace of your disappearance, there are only two potential outcomes of your whereabouts. Either you are still in Umbrella's clutches or those two cops have taken you for themselves. Six years of contemplation and Ada has finally reached a solution. Not a structured one, but a solution, nonetheless.

Find you, ensure your safety, and pray to God she has enough strength to leave you after.

And you, Y/N L/N, are exactly where Ada thought you'd be. However, the circumstances of your whereabouts are far different than what she presumed them to be.

After Dr. Gorkis, the man you had once called your friend, forced you into a state of unconsciousness, you were comatose for an undisclosed amount of time. When you wake, you are perplexed over your foreign environment. Inspecting your surroundings, there is absolutely nothing that can enlighten you of what happened within the dark gap of your memories.

The room you have awoken in is gloomy, accompanied by the cracked lantern protecting you from complete murk. The stone walls surrounding you are riddled with moss and chains. Several shelves stand awkwardly in the corners, where dilapidated books and broken pots all rest on the rickety surface. A rusted plate sits by your feet. A cluster of flies hover over the mashed potatoes hardened from age and the bread overwhelmed with mold.

You search about for any familiar faces, presumably those of Jill and Carlos. This isn't the first time you've been kidnapped, after all. If they were to lurk in the dark depths of this room, it would surely be no surprise. Instead, the area around you is entirely desolate. Nothing but the sound of your bated breath fills the empty space.

Your neck aches, your head throbs, your body trembles — everything has morphed into a permanent hue of misery you do not recognize. In a morbid way, you could almost be grateful for the circumstances you were kidnapped in before. A beautiful sanctuary, then a lavish home, and now this. A cold, decrepit room with no one to comfort you but yourself.

It's almost comical, how much this has happened to you. However, when you bring your hand to your neck to ease the pain and feel the necklace Carlos gifted you, laughter does not escape you. Alternatively, you curl your fingers around the pearls and yank with what little strength is left in your body. You watch with newfound satisfaction as the pieces clatter to the rotten floorboards.

A new beginning; the next chapter. That is what this feels like.

Stumbling over to the decaying door, it whines as you open it steadily. Haphazardly scanning the area for any potential assailants, you find none. Instead, you find a narrow hallway with lit candles hung upon the decaying walls. The light they exude guides you to a large window smeared with dirt and grime. Outside, the heavy downpour of rain neglects your need to identify your current location.

Your vision then abruptly goes black and an unfathomable pain ensnares your head. It leads you to collapse against the wall as you groan out from the abysmal misery. A voice calls out to you from the depths of your mind. A sort of ghastly incantation. A whisper you would only hear in the presence of a nightmare.

"Pursue them..." It taunts, "The lost lamb is escaping. Deliver onto them... Salvation..."

And just as it had begun, it was over. Your vision has cleared, and the ache in your skull has eased. It was all over.

One glance through the filthy window and fear hits you like a punch to your gut. A group of people dressed in ragged clothing make their presence known, all with pitchforks and axes in hand. Their torches guide them as they follow the muddied path. You can only stare in trepidation as they saunter about like hungry predators in search of prey.

When you hear the chains to the front entrance rattle, you turn and race towards your escape. Up the rotten steps of the ladder, the dingy expanse of the attic does not aid you in your efforts to flee. The light at the end of the tunnel is a shattered window, where the harsh weather brings violent rain and wind into the room. Out of the window, a shed riddled with overgrown ivy sits at a nearly-perfect distance beneath. You'd rather break your ankles than get sacrificed, after all.

Ripping the bandaid off, you leap from the ledge and land clumsily. It is a thunderous collision your assailants most certainly heard. With your feet fortunately intact, you leap from the roof of the shed and sprint away from the chaos behind you.

You hear unintelligible shouts, you hear accelerating footsteps, and you hear gunshots echo from afar. Rain feels like glass as it pours down on you. They meld with your tears and sweat. Your feet are cramped in your new, expensive boots. Still, you do not look back. Even with your lungs aching with every step you take, you continue to race forward as far as your legs can take you.

Several more throbbing paces and you find yourself in the center of a village. Dilapidated houses are scattered around the grounds, while large mountains frame the small area. Shifting your gaze forward, you find a rickety signpost. Signs that once read locations had now been overwhelmed with blood. The words 'Los Iluminados' and 'Lord Saddler' were painted in the red matter.

In a fit of enervation, you fall to the dirt. The substance stains your body and clothes, something Jill and Carlos put so much effort into preserving. You feel a sense of trepidation when your thoughts subconsciously drift to those two. Staring down at yourself, you see how every inch of you is still marked in their possession. The scent of Carlos' cologne still clings to his jacket that he draped around you. The shoelaces Jill quadruple-knotted have now been torn, the loose threading dirty and sticking out in awkward directions. Almost as if after all of this turmoil to escape them, their residue was still printed on you.

With air in your lungs after what felt like so long without it, you bring yourself to your feet. You clench your aching abdomen before limping forward. You then ponder over how you'll recount this absurd story to the police.

Then, you're flying.

Something wraps around your waist and yanks. Before you can comprehend it, the ground grows further, further, and further away from you.

With an exclaim of surprise, you land on the flat ledge of a mountain. You don't have a chance to acknowledge the impossible explanation of you defying gravity. Not when your breath gets lodged in your throat when you find the source of the sudden occurrence.

Ada Wong is that very source.

You stare up at her with the same disbelief she possessed. And this sight of you is surely something she will never forget.

The lick of sun in your eyes has never faltered, despite the years of chaos and disarray you’ve endured. The rain speckles across your body and cascades down your flesh, almost as if it was savoring every inch of you it got to touch. Bruises sit like kisses upon your skin; blood is painted on you like a vermillion art piece. Exactly the way it was six years ago.

Ada has found you. And the intensity of the euphoria that follows could be enough to kill a man, she is sure of it.

It is gut-wrenching, how beautifully nostalgic the sight is. This time, however, she will not allow any unwelcome guests to intrude.

Ada returns her grapple gun to the holster and crouches down beside you. A tender, gloved hand finds its way to your waist. It shivers and hovers, terrified of the emotions she'll be unable to control when she makes contact. Terrified of feeling nothing but cold sheets beneath her and waking up from this dream. When her hand does find you, as it always will, a hot chill surges through her body. Ada can hardly gather herself as the revelation settles. You are safe, you are alive, and you are with her again.

The other hand finds your cheek. The dandelion-pressed ring pokes against your skin, a firm reminder of how long this devotion has lived. She can feel the Earth sparkling in her palms with her hands on you; she can feel the warmth of the stars with your flesh against hers. Every bone, every sinew, every vein — everything good the universe have to offer is right beneath her. So, she does what she wished to do before, but was interrupted. What she has dreamt of doing for years, but was not able to do. She does what she has always wanted to do.

Her lips are on yours faster than you could think.

Everything inside her... Melts.

Rain falls like confetti. The frigid temperatures ease from the heat you share together. Every jut and curve of your lips mold perfectly against hers, as if you were made for each other. It robs her breath straight from her lungs, it robs her brain of any coherent function. The thumping of her heart batters in her ears as though it were trying to lunge from her chest with its sheer, rampant speeds. Her hands shiver with fervent need. The lump in her throat remains lodged no matter how much she tries to swallow it. What on Earth are you doing to her?

Your kiss is more soul-crushing than she would like to admit, as pride has always been her most prized possession. And it is all so stupidly cliché that Ada could almost laugh. A kiss in the rain. She never thought she would experience something as tooth-rotting and romantic as this. Still, it succeeds in practically shattering what remains of her moral compass. The suave and collected Ada Wong has been shattered. And the devil on her shoulder begs her to indulge in every last sliver of you she can.

She's a woman of self-control, but you had torn that control straight from her hands and claimed it as yours. She's a woman with tight fists and cruel words, but you have taken every rough edge and filed them down to soft curves.

When you inevitably part, Ada follows the direction your lips go, absolutely desperate for another taste. She is practically inconsolable without your warmth.

"Y/N..." She gasps out your name. It's a silent prayer for more of this, for more of you.

Dark webs of veins then spread among your face like woven spider's silk. It causes your vision to blur and your ears to ring. You wince from the sudden surge of pain and recoil from Ada's touch, something she didn't anticipate being so gutted by. The agony pumps through your veins like a drug; it has you writhing and groaning against the mud. It practically robs you of all your senses, the only comprehensible thing being the torture inflicted upon your feeble body.

Ada is then forcefully brought to reality where she is cruelly reminded of how this is not real. She cannot have you and you were never meant to be hers. No matter how badly she wishes you could be.

When you turn over, clutching your stomach in pain, she places her hand on your shoulder. Your eyebrows scrunched in confused pain, face wet from the pouring rain, lips sheen from her lip gloss. You are beautiful in the most devastating way. The sight bursts her heart open as if someone has nestled a bomb in her chest cavity. But, how she feels in this moment is not important. The one thing she has torn herself apart to prevent is now happening. You are hurting.

"What- What's happening to me!?" You cry out, a chunk of blood splattering from your mouth when you cough.

"Y/N... My petal...!" Ada's thumb rubs soothing circles on your arm while her cheek rests against the same surface. She clutches onto you like you're her lifeline, her last sliver of hope.

A voice interrupts. "Ada! I've been looking everywhere for-"

Ada rips her gun from its holster and points it at the intruder in fervent speed. She is terrified of being torn away from you like she was several years ago, she cannot let it happen again.

Luis Sera puts his hands up in defense, eyes blown wide in shock from her sudden shift in nature. In one hand of his is a dirtied white box with tape sloppily wrapped around the frame. He shakes it timidly, diverting her attention to what is most important about their agreement. Cure Ada of the infection and she'll let him take a seat on her helicopter.

Her stance does not halter, however. Instead, she throws yet another demand his way.

"Cure them." She orders. A perceptible tinge of despair is present in her tone.

When he remains frozen, Ada steps closer and presses the barrel of her gun directly to his forehead.

"Cure them or you know what happens." Her stare is violent. Her disposition is terrifying. There is nothing but the honest, undying truth with every syllable she speaks.

"I- But, our deal-?"

A gunshot echoes.

Deafening. Heart-stopping. The sound is accompanied by the harsh thump of Luis' dead body. Horrifying.

Ada takes the box from his limp grasp. She flips his deceased body over and steals the sample of Amber doused in blood, shoving it into her pocket. Using her sharp nails and an impromptu knife, she then slices the tape from the box. Once she hastily takes the syringe from its plastic enclosure, she rushes over to you.

Her behavior endures an abrupt shift when she crouches at your side. From a blood-thirsty monster to a fluffy-winged angel, Ada caresses your skin as if it were fine silk. You whimper as you float in and out of consciousness. You are so inert, in fact, you do not feel the intrusion of a needle and the anecdote seeping through your bloodstream. Ada comforts you through this entire process. Caresses to your flesh, kisses to your skin — she does it all terrified of it being the last time she ever touches you.

With the key to Luis' laboratory, she knows what her next course of action is. What she originally anticipated to be a quick check-up on your well-being had manifested into awakening her deep, irreparable fervor for you. But, she cannot let her measly emotions blind her to what is most important. You and only you.

She will stay, cure you, and pray to God once more that she has enough strength to leave you after.

And it kills her more than she ever thought it would.

When you wake, you find a blinding, fluorescent light hanging above your head. Cold metal and jagged leather nestles into your skin. The tapping of keyboards and technology humming fills the silence. You could almost roll your eyes if it weren't for the confusion overruling all. Have you been kidnapped again?

Attempting to gain mobility and move your body was entirely fruitless. Instead, a weak whine is all you can conjure. The frail sound is immediately met with the affections of someone else in the room.

Even in these circumstances — the grungy expanse of Luis' lab and Ada's dead parasite on the ground — she has never felt such euphoria. The severity of these feelings terrifies her, but she cannot help but fall into the emotions like a child would jump into a swimming pool. To be with you, there is nothing she could ever want more. But, as she has firmly stated numerous times, she cannot be selfish with you. No matter how badly she wishes to do such.

"Everything is going to be alright, petal. I won't let anything happen to you... Never again..." Another kiss is pressed upon your forehead. Ada's lip gloss stirs with the icy sweat beaming on your flesh.

One tap to the computer and the machinery whirs to life. Three lasers then protrude into you and begin to eradicate the Las Plagas inside of your body.

A horrible, gut-wrenching scream evades the room. Agony hits you like a tidal wave. You shout, you wail, you sob. You are in such horrendous pain, it is impossible to keep quiet. Your relentless squirming to escape the source of such misery was futile, as the restraints around your wrists keep you compliant and subject to this torment. Reassurances of "I'm here, petal" fail to conquer the sheer volume of your cries. Ada takes your hand, peppering kisses and nuzzles upon any surface of skin she can reach. Soul-crushing dread satiates her body upon seeing you in such pain. It is hurting her more than it is hurting you.

How could she have been so ignorant? How could she have let your suffering get to this point?

How could she have possibly lived every day oblivious to your well-being? How can she live with herself now knowing she had so carelessly neglected you?

How can she possibly live without you?

And as fast as it started, it was all over. The hum of the machinery silences. A vibrant "SUCCESS" flashes on the computer screen. Ease envelops your body like a warm blanket and for the umpteenth time that day, you doze off. It's a slumber like never before, where the sheer exhaustion derived from the most eventful 24 hours of your life has finally boiled over.

You now lay there. Lifeless.

"Y-... Y/N...?" Ada's voice barely surfaces above a whisper.

The death grip you had on her hand weakened and Ada never anticipated the sheer terror it would make her feel. The fear is a heavy weight on her chest, a tremor in her body. Something wet cascades down her cheeks. With skepticism, she brings her gloved hand to her face to identify the strange substance.

She's... crying?

Ada can't remember the last time she had cried. Her entire life she has powered through any turmoil with her chin held high and a stone-cold soul. Never was she allowed to feel, hence the secure control she has over herself. Now, however, the emotions escape through her facade the way a gunshot wound bleeds through a dirty bandaid.

Your flesh is cold, your body is painfully still. Ada can not bring herself to consider the conclusion that pokes and prods at her mind. Where the big heart she fell in love with stops beating. Where the eyes she'd give her life to gazes in forever loses their light. Where the only good thing this disgusting world has to offer is taken away.

Where she loses hold of the only happiness she has ever felt.

The clinical logic that had always benefited her has now become her worst enemy. Ada scans your body from head to toe, desperate for even the smallest sliver of life. More gasps of your name pervade the room, as well as the gentle, yet desperate nudges to your body in hopes of waking you from your slumber.

Ensuring you are safe, happy, and far away from the dangers within her own life has become her only purpose. Without you, Ada is now lost within the whorls of her empty, dreary world.

The woman is full-on weeping now. It had been so long, she had forgotten what it felt like to cry altogether. Her face twists with every ugly sob parting from her mouth. Her form convulses with each uncontrollable cry protruding out of her chest. Ada has become a mess of snot and tears, surely a sight the old version of her would be revolted by.

A cough fills the lonely silence. And the groggy sound could rival an angel's symphony with its raw beauty.

Alive.

You are alive.

"Hey, you did it...!" You manage to wheeze out upon seeing your status on the computer screen, voice dazed and crooked.

A smile, albeit a weak one, breaks out on your face and Ada swears she has not ever seen a sight so breathtaking. Her hands cling to your face, searching every inch to ensure she hasn't lost the only thing she could ever love. And then, she smiles. Ada smiles like she never has before; Ada smiles like she has never known pain. It is nearly deranged, how blinding and exhilarating the emotions on her face are.

She speaks before her brain can compute the consequences of her next actions.

"I love you."

The three words are spoken with such acute clarity, it is difficult to not be completely entranced by them. Ada's eyes are blown wide as her gaze sinks into yours. Her body trembles from the irrepressible fear mixed with relief coursing through her. For the first time in (quite literally) forever, she is telling the pure, unadulterated truth. However, your lack of reciprocation causes Ada's logic to fully take control of her mind. You do not love her. And as impossible as it is, she must force herself to not love you. But God, you do not make it easy.

"I-I mean- Did you have any doubt, petal? I should be offended you think so low of me. But, with those eyes, how could I be?" The tremble in her voice jeopardizes her attempt at swiftly building vanity.

You don't respond to her, you can't respond. All you can think about is how you nearly died and how Jill and Carlos will surely slit her throat for what she has done.

Ada glances down at the ring on her finger, the very thing that has held her over these past six years. It is almost humiliating to wear it. To know its existence is because of her inability to move on from this stupid crush that has somehow harbored full control of her life. Then again, Ada cannot bear to ever part from it. The thought makes her queasy, like a boat swaying against harsh waves of melancholic uncertainty. To toss the ring overboard would mean completely succumbing to the force of the sea, to drown in the heavy mass of her feelings. Cursed for eternity with stagnant sorrow.

And even though the truth strikes like a knife, Ada must commit to the plan she originally formed. Bring you to safety and pray to God once again that she has enough strength to leave you after.

"Three times..." You whisper to yourself in disbelief, your voice a ghost that Ada can hardly decipher.

With furrowed brows and a quiet hum of question, she beckons you to continue.

"Only six years and I have managed to get kidnapped not once, not twice, but three times. That's gotta earn me a place in Guinness, right?"

She reads through your attempt at masking your prevailing emotions with humor. That playful attitude, how deeply she loves it. And how devastatingly difficult it is for her to fall out of love with it. In these circumstances, when your lively demeanor is used to shield yourself from pain, it quickly festers into something she despises.

Even through everything that has happened, you are still playful. Cracking jokes, making comical jests. Just like you did all those years ago. Ada could almost be angry at you for this, for making her fall so clumsily in love with you. Almost.

"First, it was Umbrella. They had never hurt me, so I never felt they deserved the title of "kidnappers," but I guess my naivety is what got me into this shit in the first place."

This 'naivety' you speak so poorly of is mistaken for the honest warmth of your heart. You have this beautiful ability to find positivity, light, and kindness in the ugly world. Yet again, another reason why it is impossible for her to untangle you from her heartstrings. She does not speak of this, however. She is afriad of vomiting out every syllable of adoration her voice could muster.

"Then, it was..."

You hesitate, a subtlety Ada does not overlook.

"Jill and Carlos." Their names sit like rotten fruit on your tongue.

You cringe upon imagining how those two would surely react to you now, fawning over your current state as if you're some baby lamb. They nearly have a breakdown from something as mere as a paper cut, you cannot imagine the absolute warfare they'd induce upon seeing you now. Beaten, bloodied, and your organs practically on fire from the laser-induced torture they had just endured. Though, it feels strangely good to be able to breathe without them.

"A little over six months is how long they kept me. Again, they never hurt me, so it feels wrong of me to call them "kidnappers"... When I think too hard about it, I know it is what they are, I just never wanted to admit it. God, they took my freedom like it was pocket change!"

The sneer you hold has nothing against the absolute fury stretched among Ada's face.

"In the end, I escaped. I-I didn't know where I intended to go or what my plan was, but now I really, really don't know what to do..."

To make matters worse, you curl into yourself and begin to cry. It kills her to do such, but she must hold herself back, as giving you comfort would only add fuel to the fire that is her devotion to you. And to refrain from scooping you in her arms is practically killing her. To not be able to touch and comfort you, Ada knows that this is the universe testing her. No, torturing her. Every mistake, every flaw, every selfish deed — this is the karma that caught up to her after a lifetime of running from its inevitability.

"And I'm just so scared. I know they're gonna find me again and I won't be able to escape them. I'll never be free. I'll be running forever until I either submit to them o-or die!"

A beat passes when another unwelcome, unruly sob escapes your throat. The sheer calamity of this day had prevented you from processing these events. Now, the exhaustion and anguish are too much for you to bottle up.

"Oh, petal..." As you cry, Ada's long acrylics dig into the meat of her palm.

She refrains from caressing the warm skin of your shoulder. She holds herself back from pressing another tender kiss to your forehead. To prevent herself from doing such feels like suffocating. As if the heavy mass of her burning desires became physical matter and were now crushing her.

"Ada, I can't thank you enough for all you have done for me." Your gratitude is certainly not taken for granted, as every pretty word falls from your mouth and directly into the mosaic of her heart.

She cannot be in love with you anymore. She can't, she can't, she can't.

"I'm sorry for being so selfish, but please..." With helpless desperation in your eyes, you plead as though your words do not make her absolutely weak.

She must stay strong, she must complete her plan. Find you, ensure your safety, and pray to God she has enough strength to leave you after.

"Don't leave me..."

Welp, there goes that plan.

She would slaughter every soul before she'd admit it to herself, but turning her back on it has now done more harm than good.

You make her soft.

Needy.

Hungry.

You have rendered her to the same disposition of an animal, entirely feral for any chunk of you she can sink her teeth into.

"I'm right here, petal... I'm not going anywhere."

Ada Wong has let go. And you are oblivious to the consequences of this.

The resistance she once had has now faded. For six years, these tree roots have coiled around her limbs, keeping her restrained within the suffocating soil. Today, they have untangled themselves. Ada surfaces the thick dirt to find Spring in its most genuine, vulnerable time. Bunnies chase through the blossoming flowers. Trees dance with the gentle breeze. Fresh rivers flow through the bright forest. The war has ended; the torture is over.

You are at her side and there is nothing Ada could ever want more.

When she guides you out of the laboratory, she informs you of the helicopter that will soon arrive. If you weren't seconds away from succumbing to exhaustion, you'd notice the terrifying, devoted undertones beneath her structured facade. There is a man and a woman you have seen this behavior in too well, after all. However, Ada's ability to maintain herself differs from Jill and Carlos' messy aptitude.

She says your name, beckoning you to follow her. Y/N. It feels so good to say it, to have the sugary word on her tongue. It feels so good to speak it into the air and watch those eyes gaze at her with wonder, the same wonder she has fallen so hopelessly in love with. The bliss that follows after you should be considered a crime with the sheer effect it has on her. Then again, Ada was never one to follow the rules.

The two of you both race through the many twists and turns that scatter the island. Shipping containers, cargo lifts, and barrels splattered with yellow paint, you and Ada dodge the obstacles in your path. And still, she protects you with her life. Just as she had wholly promised.

Back in Raccoon City, she had lost control. She cannot afford to lose that control again, not when losing you is a possibility. Her mindless infatuation had already thrust you into danger, she would die if she let it happen once more.

With burning lungs and weak legs, you both finally arrive at the loading docks. Ada doesn't break a sweat as she tells you the helicopter will be arriving shortly. You collapse onto a pile of brown, paper sacks, now finally given a moment of rest after so many exhausting hours without it. You could nearly cry with relief.

The creak and whine of footsteps against the thin metal floors pervade the air.

A voice speaks.

"Y/N...!?"

You both look to identify the voice.

Your stomach sinks like an anchor at sea.

Leon Kennedy.

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

THE BONUS TRACK !

❝ I CARE FOR YOU STILL

AND I WILL FOREVER . . . ❞

this is what i imaged ada's flower-pressed ring to look like. and this is what i imagined the teddy bear necklace carlos gave reader looks like.

gif creds :: ada.

[ch-4-eri]

Use Me — Jill Valentine.

jill X fem! reader.

warnings: smut, p in v, strap use, strap referred to as ‘cock’. verbal abuse, very mean jill (oops), overstimulation, spitting, crying, swearing (lots of it) let me know if i miss anything i wrote this at 6am sorry if there’s any mistakes (it is proofread ish).

word count: 2.6k

you tossed and turned in bed as the clock read 12am, typical.

jill’s light snoring is all you could hear as your thoughts wandered and wandered for probably an hour now, stealing glances at jill every now and then.

she came back from her job, ate something, had a little conversation with you, then she quickly went to bed, which you couldn’t even blame her for, jill worked for so long and she does this for the both of you, she deserves her rest.

but your ovulation week had other ideas.

you were an aching horny mess.

tossing and turning made it worse because any movement you’ve made involving your legs would drive you crazier, staying still wasn’t helping either, you were a cat in heat.

as your mind kept you awake, your eyes went to your sleeping girlfriend, jill’s arms hugged the pillow as she was breathing slowly and steadily, she looked so peaceful and here you were, an inappropriate film was going off in your head.

your fingers went to her arm, nudging her slightly. “jill?”

jill groaned in response, her brows furrowed. “jill…” you repeated, wishing she’d register it sooner.

she groaned once more, her eyes fluttering.

“jill… i’m.. horny.” you dropped it, like she wasn’t even half asleep.

“what the fuck..” she mumbled tiredly, her tone groggy but all it did was send your pussy pulsating, you felt so pathetic.

you nudged her arm again. “just wake up..”

“touch yourself in the bathroom or something!” she says, blowing you off with a dismissive hand.

“of course not.. it doesn’t feel as good as when you do it.”

“i’m sleeping.”

“you’re awake now.”

as soon as you said that, jill rose up from the bedsheets with a groan, she was fuming.

one thing about jill is that you knew she hated being woken up for no reason, especially when she needed the sleep so badly, she worked her ass off early in the day and she can’t rest from your whiny little voice and your hormones.

you knew you were testing her but it wasn’t on purpose, the ache inside of you hurt the whole day and you can’t ignore it anymore, even when jill rubbed the sleep out of her angry eyes, sipped some water off the bedside table bottle she keeps on her when she’s dehydrated from her deep slumber.

“i’m getting so fucking tired of you.” jill spat, closing the bottle aside and runs her thick fingers through her short brown hair, you frowned slightly at her words but you deserved it, lowkey, yet all of this was making you even more horny, the ache between your legs was unbearable.

“so fucking sick of you, i can’t fucking sleep in this goddamn house.” jill says again, standing up from the bed, still trying to get herself more awake to deal with you, you were a little happy about the fact that you got her to wake up but she was so moody, not that you deserved to complain about her mood, maybe she’d fuck you but she wouldn’t be nice about it.

she turned to face you as she tucked her hair behind her ears, her blue eyes sit on yours.

“take off your clothes… off. now.” she demands, her tone pissy and controlling.

“w-what?” was all you managed which somehow made jill even more angry, you could swore she would hit you or something, she never did, but she was too patient with you before, you wondered when she’d snap like that? it was sick of you to imagine jill hitting you for asking her for sex like that, jill would never lay a hand on you, not for the purpose of seriously hurting you, she always watches out with the way she deals with you, she knows you can’t handle her full strength.

“you seriously fucking woke me up just to ‘what’ me? take off your fucking clothes! you know what—“ she says her eyes wide open in anger, her face red as her veins popped out of her neck.

jill climed up the bed and grabbed your shorts, pulling them down your legs forcefully as you let out a yelp. “shut the fuck up! i’m so sick of you!” she argued, her fingers found your thin shirt and took that off as well.

you weren’t fighting it, but as much as it was turning you on, you wondered if she was truly this mad at you and it made you anxious, your heart dropped to your stomach at the idea, her tone and the way she handled your clothes, yet you were getting so wet anyway, your mind and cunt had two different opinions about this.

her fingers dragged down your panties, throwing them off the floor. pushing you down onto the mattress, opening your legs with a strong palm separating your knees, you could seriously salivate from this moment alone.

but before she did anything else, she unclasped your bra, she didn’t look impressed in the slightest, yes jill was used to your body, knew you every inch, every freckle, but now that she wasn’t even complimenting you, made your heart drop even more, horny and anxious all at once.

jill threw your bra on the floor with a force, grabbing your face in her palm.

“which part of i’m sleeping did you not understand?!” she shouts, her fingers ghosting your sticky area, it was pulsating, calling her name.

“jill…” you breathed, hoping she’d go easy on you, you were terrified but oh so excited your pussy was tightening around nothing. “are you really that much of a needy whore?” she spats, her eyes narrowed like she was truly shaming you for it, like she was a total prude and would throw rocks at you for behaving this way.

“every other day.. every other week you need me to fuck you, or else you wouldn’t fucking let me sleep!” she slams her fists onto the mattress, making you jump, your eyes watering at her behavior, but so was your dripping wet hole.

“you know what? i will fuck you..” jill heaved, grabbing your face into her fist. “i’ll fuck you so hard, so hard you won’t be able to walk, or even talk. fuck you dumb enough you’ll stop talking altogether and let me have my own fucking peace for once, that’s what pretty sluts like you deserve, should be grateful i even give you the light of day, you’re a brat, and i’m so sick of you taking and sucking the life out of me.” jill spoke, letting go of your face with a force as you shed a tear, her words hurt so bad but you needed her just as badly.

she got out of bed then, the sound of her feet as she went to look for her strap were too loud, putting all her energy in the stomping, you sat up a bit; rubbing your thighs together, wiping the tear off your cheek.

the sound of the drawers opening and closing was all you could hear echoing in the bedroom, jill wouldn’t look at you either, as she finally took out her strap, she walked closer to you in bed, she usually always slid a condom over it as you requested so, saying the feeling of it inside you was a bit uncomfortable, but now that you’re too wet for that she decided to just smear her spit over it.

jill spat on her palm, rubbing it across the rubbery tip so she can slide it in easier, yes she was mad at you, but she hated to think she’d wanna hurt you on purpose.

she climbed on the bed, strap perfectly wrapped around her hips, wet enough to slide inside of you as she parted your legs once again with her hands, positioning herself between your legs, brows furrowed, gaze averted.

you bit down your lip as you watched her get on top of you, her necklace dangling over your head, her tits peeking out of her loose gray tank top, no bra underneath.

she rubs the tip against your hole, teasingly so. “shh.” jill demands as soon as you started making noise.

“fuck you’re so tight..” jill cussed, sliding her cock in as you let out a gasp. “all this fucking and stretching you out didn’t loosen you up? damn girl.” she grunts, surprised at her change of tone, she was fully bottomed out as she started thrusting inside of you, your hands were shaking as they placed themselves on her hips, fucking yourself into her, the tip kissing your cervix with every thrust.

“is that good, slut?” jill says, forcing your chin between her fingers. “i’m not a slut.” you argued, your voice strained as you were fucked out. sweat already breaking out from your forehead.

“sure you’re not… look at you swallowing that cock whole… always begging me to fuck you, always demanding and whining for it.” she fucks into you deeper, making you see stars as it shut you up completely.

“good girl, i like it when you keep that pretty mouth shut.” jill continues thrusting, the sound of your squelching was like music to her ears. “you belong to me don’t you?” she whispered to herself, going faster just to see how you’d react, seeing the way you pulsate against her cock, the way you rock your hips to match her pace with your moans strained and your legs aching.

“hhhhnnn… jill i’m so close.” you managed, your finger nails digging into her waist from underneath her shirt, then your hands grabbed at her breasts, which drove jill crazy to just get you to cum, her pace went faster and faster, her girlfriend’s mouth open, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you squeeze at her tits, your thumb circling her sensitive buds, making jill squirm inside of you as she forced your wrists away with her hands, pinning you down on the bed with one hand, the other taking each one of your ankles and throws it over her shoulders, making the strap go in so much deeper as you let out a choked gasp.

jill had to take a second and look at you like that, sweaty forehead, red cheeks, lips so red and pretty, the position was a little different from every other one you’ve both been in before by her.

but she took a mental note to do this again, legs on her shoulders, your eyes closed and your breathing uneven as she refuses to move inside of you. watching the way your breasts moved as you squirmed and whined underneath her, jill can’t resist you and she knows it, no matter how angry she became, how fucking stubborn she gets especially after a terrible day at work which is every other day, she has a beautiful girlfriend she can use however she pleases, you’re her pretty little thing, her whole world, she’d probably crumble if she came back home and didn’t find you there.

“look at me..” jill softly says, a drastic change from her tone earlier as your eyes fluttered open, staring into her blue ones.

“i love you.” jill whispers as she begins to move her hips forward and continues to thrust inside of you, the tip abusing your cervix as her words made this even more intense and overwhelming.

you eyes watered, recalling her words from just a few minutes ago, compared to this. you couldn’t focus as you got even more stretched out, crying out loud from how good it felt then from how much you feared like you were losing her and this was her last straw.

“shh..” jill whispered once more, her tongue flicking against her bottom lip as she let go of your hands, holding them in hers as she fucked into you so much faster than before, sending the bed rattling against the wall, creeking against the floor while your lips met in a hungry kiss, tongue and teeth clashed as you were chasing your high, sensation so overwhelming you whined into her mouth, jill’s hands grabbed yours as she led you through such an intense orgasm, you were terrified.

you screamed, moaned, writhed, unsure of the noise that came out of you when you gushed all that you have against jill’s cock.

jill noticed.. and she slowly pulled out, mumbling sweet words and kissing your forehead, cheeks, lips, she overstepped a line and she was willing to make it up to you.

“shh.. you did so good, such a good girl.” she mumbled, rubbing her thumb against your cheek as you were trying to get a hold of yourself.

“it’s alright sweetheart… you did good.” she whispers into your ear. “i’ll be back.. okay?” was all jill said as she climbed off the bed, taking off the strap that needed cleaning now, not that you’d notice from how much you were vibrating and overwhelmed.

jill came back a few moments later, a cloth to clean you up and some water to hydrate you.

she carefully sat next to you and helped you sit up with a kiss to your forehead. “i’ve got you.” she mumbled, grabbing the cloth in her rough hand, slowly holding it up your thighs as you were too sensitive, you closed your legs in on her.

“can’t..” you shook your head, keeping your knees together. “i have to clean you up baby..” jill murmured, taking a hold of your thigh once again, cleaning up the cum off it. wiping it all the way up to your sensitive core as you squirmed. “jill.. careful.”

“i’ve got you..” jill repeated, cleaning you gently, watching the way you were limb on the bed, you were breathtaking.

as soon as she finishes cleaning you up and putting you into new panties and clothes, giving you some water as you drank the whole bottle. “easy… it’s not going anywhere.” jill mumbled, climbing on the bed next to you, recalling how mean and disrespectful she was to you early on, making her heart twist into her chest.

she took you in her arms, your smaller frame fit so perfectly into her, you wrapped your arms around her as she kissed your forehead.

“i’m sorry… i didn’t mean what i said.” jill finally said, she can’t let you go on thinking this is how she thought of your relationship, she loves you so much.

“there’s no excuse for me to talk to you like that, not when you needed me. i’m sorry baby..” jill added while wrapping her arms around you tighter, securing you into her grip gently.

“it’s okay..” you sighed, she noticed how non verbal you get after such a loud and messy orgasm, she’s glad it’s not because you were mad at her or resentful of what she said. “it’s not.. i don’t want you to be mad at me though, i can’t take it.” jill whispered into your hair, brushing a hand over your belly.

“i’m not mad.” you finally said after a moment of silence. “no?” “no.”

jill sighed in relief and kissed the tip of your nose, making your eyes close as she pulled the blanket over both of you, hoping you’d get a good night's sleep. she still needed to do so much to make it up to you, you’re her angel.

you snuggled up to her, eyes closed and heavy with sleep. jill brushing your hair with her fingers, her face so close to yours as she watched every flutter of your lashes, every time you opened your mouth and closed it. she leaned in and kissed your lips, unable to get enough of you as you kissed her back, barely, you were probably half asleep.

“i’m not mad.” you reassured her softly, which was enough to make jill go through the night without some exaggerated grand gesture, both of you falling asleep in each other’s arms.

[pitchsidestories]

ball of the undead II Manchester City Women x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1344

a/n: dear readers, happy halloween, have fun ! 🧡🖤

“Any plans for Halloween?“

The question took you by surprise. You hadn’t even thought about that yet.

Usually, you didn’t care much for Halloween. The only good thing about that night were the parties. With your birthday being the following day, there was never a shortage of opportunities to celebrate. The only question that occurred every year was just which party you and your friends would go to.

But this year was different. You had just moved to Manchester in the summer and left your clique behind. It was the first time that you would celebrate without them, in a new city and without your silly little traditions.

The thought left you suddenly feeling very lonely but there was no time to dwell on it. Mary was patiently blinking at you, waiting for an answer to her question.

You forced yourself to smile at the young Australian: “No, not really… Maybe I’ll stay at home and watch some trashy horror movies.“

Alanna frowned at you as she emerged from her post-training shower with dripping wet hair: “But isn’t your birthday the next day?”

You shrugged nonchalantly: “Yeah but that’s only the next day.“

You could feel their eyes on you as you changed out of your football clothes, but no one said anything. You breathed a little easier when someone finally changed the topic. You really didn’t want to seem like the new girl who’d sit around alone on her birthday.

You mumbled “Bye “as you slipped out of the dressing room a few minutes later.

Unbeknownst to you, Mary turned to her teammates once the door fell shut behind you: “Girls, do you think what I’m thinking?”

“We can’t let her celebrate Halloween like that.“, Alanna answered decidedly.

“No, we’ve to celebrate together.“, Leila agreed.

Mary nodded enthusiastically: “We should organize a Halloween party for her.“

“I’m in.“, Alanna said.

“I’ll help too.“, Alex chimed in, a determined look on her face.

“I can bring some spooky sets.“, Lauren suggested, meaning her much loved building blocks.

Chloe rolled her eyes: “Hempo, that’s cute and all but it’s a party.“

“Do we have a motto?“, Jill asked the group.

Alannas eyebrows knotted together: “Let me think.“

“She likes Bridgerton, right?”, Mary suddenly remembered.

“She does.“

Alex smirked: “So Ball of the Undead then?“

“I like that.“, Mary clapped her hands happily.

Alanna nodded: “I think she’d too.“

“Okay, let’s get to work, chicas. Halloween is right around the corner.“, Leila laughed.

“I’ll build her a flower bouquet.“, Lauren decided which once again caused Chloe to roll her eyes at her: “Spooky.“

The girls kept planning the Halloween slash birthday party which was only interrupted by joyful laughter or eyerolls.

On the evening of Halloween, the things you bought for dinner and the threated empty, lonely appartement weighed heavy on you. But the expected quietness when you opened the front door was disrupted by your teammates cheering. “Surprise!”

“Wait, what?!”, you started at them surprised.

“Happy Halloween.”, Alanna exclaimed with a wide grin on her lips.  

“Wow.”, you muttered under your breath letting your eyes wander around the living room, open kitchen area of your home which they decorated heavily. There was a chandelier placed on the dinner table, covered in cobwebs and lit wax candles. At the kitchen counter you could see a huge lego flower bouquet most likely built by Lauren herself.

“She’s not happy.”, Mary sighed disappointed.

“No, I love it. How did you decorate everything so fast?”, you disagreed heavily. It warmed your heart to see how much loving detail your teammates had put in the decoration.

“Teamwork.”, Alanna explained proudly.

“Amazing. Thank you, girls.”, you smiled at them grateful to call these women your teammates.

“You’re welcome.”, Leila hummed while hugging you and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I appreciate it a lot.”, you said hoping they knew how much this meant to you. A pad on your shoulder made you turn around to face Chloe who was holding an elegant dress in her hand which could have been straight of the Bridgerton set if it wasn’t covered with a bit of fake blood to make it spooky.

“Here’s your costume. Get ready to party.”, she advised smiling.

Quickly you put on the dress while Alex began to explain the motto of the party. “The theme is..”

“Spooky Bridgerton, chica.”, Leila who was wearing a classy suit ended the sentence for her chuckling.

“That’s my favourite show.”, you beamed.

“We know. What’s your favourite spooky movie?”, Alanna asked.

“It’s night of the living dead I think.”, you replied smirking.

“Is it very scary?”, the Spanish defender questioned biting her lip nervously.

“Very.”, you confirmed chuckling.

“Hempito, I need you here.”, she decided.

“Yeah?”, Lauren blinked confusedly at the dark-haired woman.

“I need you to protect me from the frightening things happening in the movie.”, Leila stated in an uncharacteristically serious tone.

“Okay, I’ll protect you.”, the blonde winger giggled.

“And what about me?”, Laia pouted playfully.

“Then I’ll protect you both.”, Lauren declared who was rather amused by the tall Spanish defenders being scared by spooky movies.

“You’ll love it.”, you tried to assure them.

“We’ll see.”, Alanna said.

As the movie flickered on, you raised your glass that someone had put in front of you: “Cheers, witches!”

The others followed suit with exception of Jill.

“Who are you calling witches?”, she asked, scrunching her nose as she entered the room.

Vivianne appeared next to her, carrying her dog in her arms: “Sorry, we’re late. Myles costume took longer than I expected.“

She held up Myle who was wearing a small set of bat wings and didn’t look too thrilled about it.

Your jaw dropped in awe at seeing the puppy: “Oh my god!”

“At least she looks adorable.“, Vivianne smiled and set Myle down on the floor.

“I think you all look amazing.“, you complimented your teammates. They were all dressed as different kinds of undead beings in fancy dresses and you loved everything about it.

Alanna ruffled through your hair: “We only had her for a few weeks but I want to keep y/n forever.“

“Keep me? I’m not a dog!”, you frowned up at her.

“Don’t reply, Lani!”, Mary warned her teammate.

“I won’t.“, the older Australian agreed.

Shaking your head about the two, you quickly changed the topic: “More snacks, girls?”

“Yes.“, Lauren answered for them.

“Coming right up.“, you smiled and disappeared in the kitchen to grab some food.

Lauren smiled brightly at the sweets offered to her: “Thanks.“

“You’re welcome.“

You just settled back onto the couch to watch the movie when all of a sudden, Alanna yelled: “Girls, turn the TV off. It’s almost midnight!”

Everyone scrambled to their feet at the same time. You had no idea what happened but all around you was pure chaos. The Halloween decorations mixed with Birthday decorations and you suddenly held a glas of champagne in your hand.

“Time to raise the glasses!”, Alex announced at the stroke of midnight.

Your teammates all lifted their champagne flutes and toasted to you.

“I’ll get the cake.“, Vivianne promised.

You bit your lip, your heart felt soft and tender as the dutch player returned with a Halloween-themed birthday cake.

“You even got me a cake?”, you asked in disbelief.

Leila laughed: “Of course we got you a cake.“

“That’s so sweet of you.“

There were not enough words in the world to express how loved you felt and how grateful you were for your teammates.

Alanna grinned, clearly satisfied with the surprise: “You’re welcome.“

“Happy birthday, y/n.“, Mary whispered as she pulled you into a hug, just at the right moment so you could hide your wet eyes on her shoulder.

You managed a wobbly smile: “Thank you, girls.“

“Blow out the candles and make a wish!”, Alanna instructed you.

You gladly did what you were told, blowing out all the candles in one breath. But there was only one wish you could think of: Turning your old birthday tradition into a new one with your teammates.

[lilmoonbunny]

Never knew I needed you so bad; S.T.A.R.S Wesker

Chris cheats on the reader, Wesker saves the day (and touches you better than Chris ever did).

[AO3]

Warnings: Cheater!Chris, smut/NSFW.

NSFW: Choking, thigh-riding, making out, hair pulling oral (m!receiving), fingering. Please let me know if I forgot anything else :D

The relationship between you and Chris had always been difficult, to say the least. Constant arguments, distance outside of work, and so on had it a tough one, and perhaps that was why you weren’t entirely shocked at the events that unfolded that night.

It was one of those nights where the S.T.A.R.S crew - minus Captain Wesker who had told you a simple ‘perhaps’ when you had asked if he would be joining later - had ventured out into the public and gone to a bar.

Whilst Chris favoured being sat at the bar with Brad, you instead favoured sitting in a booth away from the masses of people to talk to Jill, unaware of Chris talking to a blonde-haired woman rather than Brad as they shared a drink.

It wasn’t unusual for Chris to talk to people at a bar, of course, and it never would have bothered you before. That was until you glanced around to look for your boyfriend, only to see him lip-locked with someone that wasn’t you.

Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would, but damn, it still hurt, especially when you watched him pull away with a smile rather than a look of regret.

You were embarrassed, upset, but most of all, you were hurt, all whilst Jill watched you cycle through emotions after witnessing the event in real time.

“I’m leaving, sorry…” you whispered to your friend who gave you an understanding nod and a pat on the shoulder before walking you to the door and wishing you a good night before she left, walking over to yell at Chris who was soon rushing out of the door.

“Y/N!” He called, catching your attention. You turned to him for a moment before rolling your eyes and turning away, looking for a vacant cab. “Baby, please. I didn’t mean to.”

It was at that moment that you spotted your Captain approaching.

“Chris, I really don’t want to hear your excuses. We are done, just leave.”

Wesker had reached you both by now yet stood silently.

“Baby, c’mon, just hear me out.” Chris pleaded, but all you could see was the lipstick marks that littered his neck.

“No, I don’t think I will. I came out for a fun night, and you left me to make out with another woman.” You spat, unaware of the way Wesker was glaring at Chris as you spoke beneath his usual sunglasses.

Chris paused, blushing upon realising his Captain was currently watching the altercation.

“I believe this conversation should be over. Perhaps you should leave, Chris.” Wesker interrupted before you could cuss Chris out even more, even if he did deserve it.

Chris simply nodded, heading back inside.

“Thank you,” you whispered once Chris was left. You smiled up at Wesker who simply nodded.

“Allow me to drive you home.”

There was no arguing with Wesker, you knew that much, so you simply smiled again. “All right.”

The drive was quiet, yet comfortable oddly enough. Captain Wesker was a man of few words, and he was clearly deep in thought, so you didn’t wish to bother him unless he spoke to you.

“Chris did not deserve you,” he said, not taking his eyes from the road.

Your gaze moved to him, taking in the sight of him as he drove. His grip on the wheel was tight, veins popping from his arms. You weren’t entirely sure why he was clutching the wheel so hard, however. He wasn’t wearing his usual uniform either, understandably so, of course. Instead, he wore a white shirt, jeans, and a black coat. It was a good look on him, really good, you thought to yourself before cursing yourself for thinking so; you and your boyfriend had just broken up.

“You think so?”

Wesker nodded. “I know so.” He replied.

“Thank you, Captain,” you smiled sadly, eyes slowly moving back to looking out of the window.

“Albert is fine right now, and there is no need to thank me.” Wesker finally looked at you, taking a deep breath to compose himself as he did so. Maybe he liked you more than he should, but that was irrelevant, and not to mention a complete waste of his time; it could also ruin his plans. “We are here.”

You nodded at his words as he pulled into the parking space outside your home, undoing his seatbelt.

“Allow me to walk you to your door.” He said, looking over at you as you wordlessly nodded again.

You two silently walked to the door, Wesker watching as you pulled your keys from your bag with shaking hands. He wasn’t entirely sure whether you were shaking due to the breakup or his presence, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued about which it was.

As you opened the door to your home, flicking the lights on, you paused for a moment, facing your Captain.

It was a bad idea, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it as the words fell from your lips.

“Do you want to come in?”

Wesker paused at the offer, clearly caught off guard; he knew what you meant.

“I shouldn’t,” came his response. He swallowed. “I shouldn’t.” He repeated. Whether he was trying to convince you or himself, he did not know.

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry,”

Wesker hesitated, taking a deep breath before leaning forward to place a rough kiss on your lips, your eyes widening as he did so.

His hand landed on your shoulder, thumb caressing your neck as he continued kissing you. Your hands reached his own shoulders, pulling him closer as he walked into the hallway, kicking the door shut behind you both.

Was it a bad idea? Yes. Did either of you care? No.

The moment the door slammed shut, one of his hands fell to your waist, lifting the fabric of your t-shirt just enough to slide his hand to feel your skin. His hands were cold, leaving goosebumps at the touch.

He squeezed at your waist, his thumb that was caressing your neck moving to hold your jaw as he pulled away to breathe, spit falling from both your lips.

You panted, eyes wide as he stared at you beneath his glasses, both of your hands on each other. Your hand moved to his coat, pushing it from his shoulders. He removed his hands from you for a moment to slip off his coat, tossing it to the floor without a care in the world before both his hands gripped your waist, pulling you back into a kiss, teeth tugging at your bottom lip, drawing a moan from you and he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

Without a warning, he spun you around, shoving you against the wall, one of his hands pressed against the wall beside your head whilst the other slipped beneath your shirt, sliding up your torso and beneath your bra to grab at your breast. As he toyed with your hardening bud, your hands moved to fiddle with his belt.

He pulled back. “If you are going to do that, I suggest you show me where your bedroom is, dear,” Wesker said.

You blushed at the nickname, stuttering out a simple follow me before leading him to your room, his hand on your lower back as his followed.

Neither of you bothered to shut the door as his lips met yours again in a sloppy kiss whilst you pulled him by his shirt to your bed, feeling him guide you to lay on the mattress once you reached it.

Wesker’s lips moved from yours to your neck, sucking at the skin in a way you knew would leave marks; you didn’t care, you only cared about him right now.

His scent was overpowering your senses, soft moans falling from your lips. Your hands reached up to tug at his hair while his knee moved to press against your core, and he smirked as he felt you grind against him.

You were completely at his mercy, and he was loving every second.

“Good girl,” he muttered into your neck, placing a kiss before speaking again. “Get yourself off on my thigh.” His voice was deep and laced with lust.

You nodded eagerly as you desperately began rutting against him, hands landing on his firm shoulders whilst his moved to remove your shirt. His touch was cold against your warm skin, fingers lightly dancing along your torso as he lifted your shirt above your head before discarding it.

Wesker’s hand came to grasp your chin, thumb running across your lower lip. A smirk formed on his lips as your lips instantly parted, allowing him to shove his thumb inside your mouth. He watched beneath his sunglasses as you began sucking on his digit, occasionally circling it with your tongue; God, he wanted to feel you on his cock.

As though reading his mind, your grinding halted and your hands roamed from his shoulders, down his toned torso, before one hand moved to undo his belt and the other began massaging his cock. Wesker’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, unaware of your gaze on him. He wanted… no, he needed you. He had for the longest time, and with Chris out of the way, he was free to make you all his.

“I’m going to ruin you for anyone else, dear,” he muttered into your ear, and he truly meant it.

“Yes, please,” you whimpered at his deep voice, his breath hitting your ear.

“Please?”

“Please, sir,”

Wesker smirked at your obedience. “Good girl,”

A blush ran up your cheeks as you climbed onto your knees, hands landing on your Captain’s shoulders to guide him to lay against your mattress. He watched closely, freeing himself from the restraints of his clothing, leaving him only in his shirt which you were quick to unbutton, revealing his abs.

Your hand trailed from his cheek, dancing across his visible collar bones, down his stomach, and to his freed cock. Wesker’s own hand moved to entangle itself in your hair, grasping it in a way to keep the strands from your face as you leaned down, taking the tip into your mouth, tongue circling.

With a gentleness that he didn’t know he had in him, Wesker lowered your head further onto his dick, head leaning backwards in pleasure as your tongue ran down him as he did so, your cheeks occasionally hollowing in a way that had a quiet groan falling from his lips. His hand tugged on your hair, a moan falling from your lips and vibrating his cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice deep and laced with lust, and his head thrown back.

With each movement of your tongue, Wesker’s grip on your hair became tighter as he occasionally tugged on the strands. Perhaps it was to make you moan on his cock, or maybe it was to keep some semblance of power whilst you were ruining him with your mouth.

Applying a light pressure to your head, he watched as you bobbed your head further down his length, doing your best to take as much of him as possible. The moment he hit the back of your throat, he swore he could have came just from your gag.

“Just like that. Good girl,” despite him fucking your mouth, Wesker couldn’t resist gently stroking your hair with his thumb at which you hummed, sending vibrations and pleasure through his body.

You pulled back, an innocent smile on your swollen lips as he stared at you. Your hands reached up to remove his sunglasses, smiling sweetly as you did so – he almost smiled back – to reveal his beautiful eyes.

Wesker was quick to press his lips against yours once again, flipping you beneath him with a strength you never expected him to possess. His unbuttoned shirt brushed against your naked stomach and covered chest.

“I think we should remove this,” Wesker’s hand moved the front of your chest, “don’t you, pet?” Without a warning, his hands tugged on your bra, ripping it in half and tossing it God only knows where.

“I liked that one,” you whined.

Wesker moved to nibble at your ear before speaking. “I’ll buy you another, don’t worry, or maybe I’ll just keep you as my little pet and you won’t need one, hm?" You blushed at the thought.

A moan left your lips as his mouth quickly moved from your ear to bite at your neck, darkening the marks he had left earlier; he wanted Chris to realise how lucky he had been.

“C-Captain,” you shuddered, and he froze at the title.

Wesker pulled back, staring at you with such an intensity that you worried you had done something wrong as he tightly gripped your chin.

“Say that again,” he demanded, the noise only making your panties even wetter.

“Captain,”

He smirked, leaning close to your lips in a way that had you believing that he was going to kiss you, but he didn’t, even when you leaned in. Instead, his breath hit your lips as he muttered, good girl, staring down at you with lust-filled eyes before finally kissing you.

A harsh bite to your lower lip had your mouth opening, his tongue instantly finding its way into your mouth, melding with your own. You moaned into his mouth, his hand wrapping around your throat, gently squeezing, gauging your reaction. When you leaned into his grip, he tightened it.

One hand landed on top of his that was around your throat. You weren’t pulling him away – you didn’t want him to stop – you clearly just wanted to touch him; he almost smirked.

Combined spit connected both your parted lips as he pulled away, hand still wrapped around your throat.

“Do you like that?” He asked, tightening his grip again.

You nodded.

“Use your words, pet,” he said, loosening his grip just long enough for you to respond.

“Yes, sir,”

This time he smirked, grip tightening again.

Wesker’s free hand slipped beneath the fabric of your underwear, thumb beginning to circle your clit, your head throwing backwards against the cushion as he did so, eyes fluttering shut. He watched you closely, enjoying the sight in front of him. God, you were beautiful. How did he resist you for so long?

His finger dipped beneath your slit, gathering wetness before gently pushing one digit in. He wasn’t sure when the last time you had been touched was and he definitely did not want to hurt you. He was planning to ruin you for everyone else, not ruin you in general. He was determined to make you only want him after this.

A loud moan left you fell from your lips as his fingers entered you, his thumb still toying with your sensitive bud. Touching you was easy with how wet you were, fingers moving slowly with ease until he was satisfied that you were ready for another finger which was all you seemed to need.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you moaned, breathless and sweating. “I’m close.”

“Wasn’t planning to, dear,” he muttered, placing an uncharacteristic gentle kiss on your shoulder as he continued his movements. “Go on, cum for me. Be a good pet and cum on my fingers.” His words were all you needed to push you over the edge, eyes shooting open and stars filling your vision as you covered his fingers in your slick juices.

Wesker hummed in approval, pulling his fingers away and placing them on your lips. He watched in satisfaction as you parted your lips, cleaning his fingers for him.

“So good for me,” his praise had you blushing, looking away shyly. “Don’t look away from me.” He said, tilting your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Wesker leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Get some rest, dear,” he said, an almost visible smile beginning to form on his lips.

“But what about you?” You said, guilt filling you as you realised that he didn’t cum.

He paused for a moment, shaking his head as though it was a stupid question.

“Tonight was about you, don’t worry about me.”

“B-but-“

“No buts,” he looked at you with a stern face, one that had you silence immediately and nod. “I’ll be here in the morning if you still want to help.”

Your eyes widened at his words, having expected him to leave afterwards. You froze and he shook his head in amusement, a smirk covering his lips.

“Yes, I’ll be here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.” He paused again. “You can’t get rid of me now.”

[ilici]

midnight obsession.

synopsis: charlie walker is obsessed with you, though neither of you has spoken before, he always watches from afar. after you had gotten a boyfriend, he started to do anything to get your attention. stalking, stealing stuff from your house, leaving notes in your locker. yet, nothing worked. all your attention was on your boyfriend, but you belonged to him.

             this will be a series, a slow burn in fact.

             ﹋﹋ ˖*ഒ charlie walker 𝔁 fem!reader

             ˖*ഒ ﹋﹋ word count : 1.8k

             ﹋﹋ ˖*ഒ contents : stalking , obsession , and possessiveness.

              ˖ ࣪✮ ! ❝ but you belong to me, you belong to me. ❞

             Burning.

       The sensation of her legs burning was the only thing she could focus on, as the sound of her feet slapping against the muddy ground and her breathing slightly drowned out the ringing in her ears. She didn't dare turn her head over her shoulder to see if she was still being chased, she's seen horror movies. She knew how easy it is to trip if you even glance once behind you.

     The crisp autumn air nipped at her exposed skin, though she wasn't cold, not even a little. In fact, she was drenched in sweat, despite the bitter cold air. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind before she felt arms wrap around her waist and pull her into the woods behind a tree. A scream elicited from her throat, being muffled from the hand over her mouth.

     The hand that was wrapped around her waist tightened as the scream ripped through her lips and into the palm of their hand. They looked down at her, quickly hushing her as they held her close. "Be quiet, otherwise they'll find us." They spoke up, which made her look up to see who had grabbed her. Recognizing them from one of their classes, she slowly calmed down as she heard the sound of rapid footsteps running past them.

     After what seemed like an hour, which was only a couple of minutes, the grip that was holding her slowly let go, and she stepped away a bit before she turned around and looked at her savior. Her breathing was still slightly uneven, as she was still paranoid, but the pale grey-blue eyes stared at her never once looking away. Looking up at him, as he was somewhat taller than her, she let out a breathless 'thank you'. Nodding his head, he ran his fingers through his tousled hair and offered her a small smile, "I think it's clear, do you have a way home?"

     He asked though he already knew the answer. After all, he planned this out with Jill, so that way he'd finally get her attention after all his other failed plans. Looking around, she slowly shook her head in response, and he nodded, "I can walk you home." He offered, and she looked up at him scanning his face, "Why were you out in the middle of the woods?" She asked cautiously, and Charlie looked at her and let out a small chuckle. "I can see how this looks suspicious, but, I was recording something for the cinema club."

     He slyly lied, pointing to the camera he had discarded to the ground to hold her and keep her quiet. Her gaze followed where he was pointing, and she still looked at him skeptically and he chuckled as he grabbed the camera from the ground, "Look." he said, as he pressed the play button showing a video on the small screen. Watching it, she saw that he was filming a video talking about locations where they could create a short film, and the woods just so happened to be on the list.

     Humming, she looked up at him again, looking to see if there were any signs of him lying to her. As his face remained neutral, she bit her lip in thought before she slowly nodded her head, "Yeah─okay, sure." She said, barely above a whisper and Charlie held back the deviant smirk that wanted to appear. "Lead the way." He said as he motioned for her to walk, and she slowly began walking out of the woods and in the direction her house was. Thankfully, she was already on her way home when she started getting chased, so she was almost home.

     Slowly following in behind, he knew she'd be home alone as he had watched her parents leave for a trip yesterday night, and he had also broken into her home to watch her sleep that night. Silence fell over them, as he watched her figure being outlined by the orange-tinted street lights. As she halted her movements, she turned on her heel and offered him a grateful smile, "This is my place." She said, and Charlie looked over at the house they stood in front of, already knowing which house was hers. "Well, uhm...thank you for walking me home."

     She said, scratching her arm awkwardly, and Charlie nodded his head tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "No problem." He replied, shrugging his shoulders as he began to turn around and walk home, "Charlie-" She started, and he immediately halted his movements the moment he heard his name roll off her tongue. The fact that she knew his name sent a shiver down his spine, and he turned back around, "Seriously, thank you." She said softly, and before Charlie could answer she turned around and ran up the stairs of her porch.

That was one of the first times you had given him any sort of attention, and he craved more. It was like a drug to him, and he only wanted to get high from it.

     Laying on her stomach, her feet swaging in the air as they were adorned with thigh-high socks, along with the baby tee she wore and nothing but her lace underwear on her bottom half. It had been almost a week since she had been chased and miraculously saved by Charlie Walker, though she never interacted with him after that night due to them being in completely different cliques. She was mainly around her boyfriend or with cheerleaders, as she was captain of the cheer team.

     As she was on the phone with her boyfriend, speaking about random topics, she got up from the bed walking over to her vanity to grab her lotion before she realized it was no longer on her vanity. Her eyebrows pinched together in confusion, as she looked around for her lotion, "What the hell?" She muttered to herself, her boyfriend becoming white noise as she started moving everything around in an attempt to find her lotion. "Where the hell has my stuff disappeared to?" She said, growing annoyed as some random stuff of hers began going missing.

     At first, it was random things like hair ties, her sleeping mask, perfumes, and now her lotion. Sighing, she tangled her fingers in her hair before she plopped back down on her bed, "My lotion is missing." She complained to her boyfriend before a hand clamped over her mouth and her eyes automatically widened in fear as she tried to scream for help. Before she could, a hand reached over hung up her call, and flipped her over to her back. Quickly shoving the person away, she groaned, "Jesus, Kirby! What the hell are you doing?" She yelled at her friend, as Kirby just grinned down at her, "Movie night."

     That was all Kirby responded with and she scoffed as she rolled her eyes, "Did you break into my house just for a movie night?" She questioned, and Kirby shrugged her shoulders, "Not really breaking in, I have a spare key, remember?" She said, flashing the spare key before she grabbed her arms pulling her up from her bed. Not even bothering to get dressed, she followed Kirby down the set of stairs and into her living room where she saw people sitting on her couch. "You invited strangers into my home, seriously?"

     Upon hearing her voice, everyone turned around and looked at her, "Not a stranger." Jill said as she got up from the couch and patted her shoulder, "I'm getting a drink." Jill said as she walked into the kitchen before she rolled her eyes at her friend as she crawled over the couch and plopped down beside someone. Looking to her left, she saw Charlie sitting on her couch, and she hummed grabbing the beer that was in his hands and taking a sip. "Since when do you hang around with Kirby and Jill?" She asked, looking between Charlie and his friend Robbie.

     Charlie would have complained if it were anyone else taking his beer, but the thought of it being an indirect kiss made his body buzz, and he grabbed the beer bottle as she handed it back to him. "It's nothing permanent, I overheard them talking about horror movies and I told them I owned basically every horror movie in existence. So, here I am now." He told her, while she nodded her head before someone tapped her shoulder, "I invited him too, don't worry." Kirby said, and Charlie automatically knew who he was. Kirby had invited your boyfriend to the movie night, and that caused anger to bubble inside his stomach.

     Even though she was just on the phone with him, she knew Kirby had this all planned hours prior. Looking around she looked at Charlie with a small smile, "I own quite a lot of horror movies myself, y'know?" She said, striking up a conversation and the anger began to diminish as she sparked up a conversation with him. "Is that so?" He said, his voice almost whimpering at the thought of them sharing an interest, "It is." She said, smirking at him as she looked into his icy eyes. "Let's make a game out of it." He pitched, and she looked at him curiously, "Trivia questions, the first person to get the answer wrong has to do whatever the other says."

     Looking up to the ceiling in thought, she looked back at him grinning, "You're on, I'll trivia your ass to the ground." She said, and Charlie's heart was hammering against his chest as this was the longest conversation the two of them ever had. "First question, who was the killer in the first Friday the Thirteenth." He asked, and she laughed and looked at him, "Easy, Jason's mom, Pamela." She said, as he nodded his head impressed she actually knew stuff about horror. "Okay, let's see." She said, thinking of a question, and she grinned before looking at him, "What musician made their own version of the movie Halloween?"

     Charlie obviously knew the answer, as he had seen the movie on multiple occasions, "Rob Zombie." He said, and after a while of the two going back and forth with questions Charlie thought of a question he knew would stump her, "Who played Leatherface first?" He asked, and she looked around in thought, "Andrew-" Before she could finish her answer, Charlie immediately knew she had gotten wrong and his heart rate spiked in excitement but as he was going to tell her she was wrong someone fell in between them, wrapping their arm around her shoulder, "Hey babe." Getting up from the couch, Charlie plopped down on the loveseat next to Robbie in anger.

That was the second time you had given him attention, and he planned on getting even more of it.

                                                   rory's masterlist !

[cryptictongues]

184 Days

pairing: Clive Rosfield x Flower!Reader Series rating: Mature (angst; tw listed below) word count: 13.6K summary: You have a hard time grieving after Clive's passing, even when you didn't need to grieve at all.

warnings:  reader-insert (sorry lol), angst, hurt/comfort, reunions, grief/mourning, slight suicidal ideation, slight self-harm, depression, panic attacks, happy ending (yay!) - this is part of the Flower!Reader series! You don't need to have read the other two but there are references to them if that interests you.

Spoilers: This is post-game stuff. If you haven't played the game, beware.

TW's: This fic contains major themes of grief, so it is heavy. There is minor suicidal ideation and self-harm, not graphic in nature, but it is there. Depression and panic attacks are more common in this fic. If these topics don't sit right with you, please be cautious when reading. You may also reach out if you want to know specifics if you are worried!

Songs: I just want to share that I was constantly listening to When the Sun Hits by Slowdive, Thick Skull by Paramore, and Wicked Games by Chris Isaak.

LASTLY, I am sharing this on my birthday! My birthday gift to you all <3

[AO3 link]

Day 1

The Hideaway is full of people. People from all over Valisthea arrive in droves, coming to grant supplies, donate gil, and help around the Hideaway because today is the day; the day everyone here sends off Dion, Joshua, and Clive for their leave to Origin.

You are working overtime, helping with the final preparations before they take off. The biggest reason, however, for the hard work is the ever creeping anxiety filling your body as the time ticks closer to Clive’s departure; from his friends and family, and from you. This day has been a long time coming, yet now that it’s here you can barely stomach the thought of him leaving. With that thought lingering, every moment together has been even more precious than the next. 

Every moment of free time has been spent together. With today being the day of departure, your last moments together were last night. You both made love all night, and in between sessions would talk about what you two will do once he comes back; creating the life of your dreams together. Yet, in the back of your mind, all you could think was those thoughts were just that: dreams. You don’t know what will happen during Clive’s mission. But it’s fun to play pretend, and to envision what life could have in store for the two of you. 

The sun was in its golden state before its colors showed, telling you it’s almost time. You see everyone gathering on the main deck, Clive and co included, talking with one another as they say their farewells and safe travels. You start your way there, walking slowly as if it would prevent the inevitable. You know the moment you reach Clive, it would only be a matter of minutes before he is no longer within your grasp.

You see Clive talking to Jill, bringing her in for a tight hug as he continues. You see a shake in her shoulders, telling you she feels the same way you do. Just as hard as it is to wish your lover away, it must be just as hard to watch the man who has become a brother figure leave. They grew up together, after all.

You give a farewell to Prince Dion and Joshua once on the deck, giving Dion a firm handshake and a bow, while Joshua brings you in for a hug. You didn’t know Dion for long, but Joshua is a different story. Getting to know your lover’s brother has brought you closer to the both of them. Seeing how happy Clive was with Joshua around made your heart swell. You wonder if Joshua ever felt the same about you two. 

Joshua let’s go of you, a melancholy smile drawn on his face. “Thank you, _____. Thank you for taking care of my brother.” 

You shake your head. “No, thank you for finding each other again. I will be praying for the three of you to safely return to us.”

“I appreciate that, my lady.” Joshua thanks, yet his eyes shift, and he nods. “Here he comes.”

You turn to see Clive approaching you, and you already feel your chest growing tight and eyes water. He is standing before you, looking as beautiful as he always has, but with a sorrowful look that says everything you feel. It’s unfair, really. It devastates you that he is the one to stop all the madness, when in a perfect world he would stay. You keep telling yourself this isn’t the end, yet your gut keeps telling you otherwise. 

“____.”

“Would it be selfish of me to ask you to stay? To ask to let the world go to hell?”

Clive smiles, solemnly chuckling at your suggestions. “Never.”

You reach for his left hand with both hands, holding it as you rub your thumbs into his palm. “I know it would be futile, all the same.” You utter. “There would be no life worth living for anyone. I just wish things could be different.”

“I am doing this for a better future for everyone. It is what the world deserves.” Clive’s other hand covers your hands in full. “I must do this, so you and I can live the future we’ve always talked about.”

“I wish I could take your place, so I could guarantee your safety.” You choke out, the waterworks starting. 

Clive is quick to react, pulling you into him as you sob softly into his chest. “Knowing you will be safe here will be reason enough for me to make it back to you.” Your hands squeeze his sides, his statement making you want to sob harder. Clive pulls back, taking one hand to lift your head to get a good look at you. “I promise I will be back. Wait for me.”

You nod frantically, sniffling as you take deep breaths to calm down. Clive’s forehead leans against yours, his thumb brushing continuous strokes on your cheek, before pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. You accept his kiss, giving it your all knowing the outcome is unknown. Both of your lips linger, not wanting to pull away because once one of you does, he will be on his way. 

Clive pulls away slightly, his lips still lingering near your own. “I love you, ____.”

“I love you too.” You whisper, placing one more kiss to his lips before pulling away. “I have something for you.”

You reach into the pouch you keep attached to your corset belt and pull out a lily. You thread the stem in between the crease of his corset and tunic, the tightness of his uniform keeping the flower in place. You brush his chest, stalling him a little longer before you accept it is time. “Lily represents reunion. With this flower, you shall come back to me.”

Clive sucks in a breath, releasing with a shutter as if he was on the verge of tears. “I will, no matter what.” 

You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you turn to see Jill still sniffling with watery eyes. She smiles at you before looking at Clive. “We will take care of each other.”

You feel something rub against your thigh and look to see Torgal rubbing his head on you. You smile, rubbing behind his ears. “Torgal will look out for us too.” 

Clive hums, appreciating the sight before him. “This is farewell for now. Till then, we have a god to kill.”

Everyone has now formed a semi-circle around the three dominants about to depart, watching as they walk towards the end of the deck. They pick up their pace, all of them running until they are no longer in sight. A bright light goes off and the next thing everyone sees is Bahamut carrying Clive and Joshua towards an event that will shape the world. 

-

You are sitting on the main deck, legs dangling off the side as you continue to stare off into the horizon. You haven’t left since Clive left, the golden hour long gone and twilight having come and gone, dusk now settling in the sky. It feels like it has been hours since his departure, when in reality it has only been a few. You wonder if they have made it to Origin yet, if the battle has started, if Ultima has been defeated… if they have met their maker for good. That thought makes you shiver. 

You hear footsteps coming from behind you before a presence sits right beside you. You don’t look, but the aura alone tells you it’s Jill and you smile slightly. She puts an arm around you, pulling you into her as you both continue to look into the distance, like they would be back any second. She twists your hair, which comforts you in a way, and you hum. It is silent for a while, watching the sky continue to grow darker and darker until the sky is black with its pearls. 

“Have you prayed to Metia today?” You break the silence with a question. Jill’s fixation that Metia answers prayers is comforting in these moments, especially when every prayer she has spoken through her heart has come true.

She shakes her head. “I haven’t, but only because I wanted you to join me. Our hearts combined will help, no doubt.”

You nod your head, and you both move into a position that faces Metia herself, kneeling before her with hands clasped together. You bow your head, and say your prayer in your head, letting your heart translate it in a way that only Metia understands. You pray for everyone’s safe return with little to no injury. You pray they come back healthy and happy. You pray for the dawn of a new age where you and Clive help build a world you two can grow old in. You pray for everything to be okay. You raise your head as you finish, and you admit that some weight has been lifted off your chest, but an uneasiness still sticks. You turn your head to see Jill finishing her own prayer, and she looks towards you with her hand reaching for yours. You give her your right hand and she grips it with a smile. “Metia has listened to our prayers. Now, we wait.”

“Jill, your faith that everything will be okay is admirable. I wish I had your confidence.” You confess, the sour feeling remaining deep in your body. 

“For the longest time, I thought Clive was long dead. I believed that Metia hadn’t listened. And next thing I know, there he is. Granted, it was years later.” She squeezes your hand, and turns so your knees are touching hers. “That’s why I have faith that they will return to us.”

“Maybe your faith will rub off on me, and not the other way around with my worries.” You chuckle, trying to make light of the night. 

“No matter what happens,” Jill reassures, “I will be here for you. We will be here for each other.”

You nod, and bring her in for a hug, squeezing her tightly which she returns. “Thank you, Jill. For everything.”

You both stay there for a minute, until next thing you know you hear running on the deck. You pull away to see Gav running towards you two, panic clear on his face. “Ah fuck,” he breathes in and out as he approaches. “Edda is in labor. All hands on deck.”

You and Jill gasp in unison, both jumping up to run to the infirmary to help bring new life into this world. And hopefully, a new one.

Day 2

“Alright, one more push, Edda.” 

You are sitting behind Edda, letting her use your hands for her death grip as she continuously pushes and wails out in pain. You, Jill, and Mid are giving her words of encouragement as she continues her labor, and after one final push Tarja fully delivers the baby. A cry echoes throughout the room and the atmosphere is full of happiness and relief. 

“Can I come in yet?” You hear Gav yell from the other side of the door.

“She just gave birth, Gav. Give us a minute.” Tarja yells, eyes rolling hard at Gav’s common sense.

“He’s just excited,” Jill chimes in. “As we all are.”

“Congratulations, Edda! It’s a boy!” Tarja finishes cleaning off the baby, kneeling beside Edda as she passes him off to her. You watch Edda admire her baby boy for the first time, her smile brightening up the room as she talks to him. 

Seeing them interact stirs you with an emotion you wish to experience directly. You and Clive have talked about having children, making it clear you two wouldn’t have any until the world has been set straight. But you two would talk about what it would be like to have a little you or a little him running around or both. You imagine cradling a little boy in your arms, giggling as you shower him with kisses. You imagine Clive holding a little girl, swaying her around while singing a melody. Two giggly children to call your own with the man you have fallen madly in love with. You feel as if your heart could burst from the thought. 

“_____, can you go up to the rear stacks to grab more towels off the lines?” Mid asks, taking you out of your sappy daydreams. You snap out of it, humming in the affirmative before moving away from Edda and heading to the door. You could barely get out the door before almost being trampled by Gav, running in like a mad man. “Let me see! Let me see!”

You chuckle to yourself, exiting the room and heading to the linen lines. Even when things seem dark, you can’t help but keep smiling at everyone’s high spirits tonight. You suppose new life being brought into the world will do that to people because it sure as hell is doing that for you. It’s a good distraction, and you accept it with open arms.

You grab some towels from the line, cradling them in your arms securely as you make your descent to the main deck and up the stairs to the infirmary. You reach the infirmary doors when you are once again almost hit by a body, except this time it was Jill. One quick look at her made it apparent she was crying. She doesn’t spare you a glance as she runs down the stairs, sobs fading as she goes further down. You turn to the open door, shock clear on your face. “What happened?”

Gav and Mid look at you like they don’t know what to say. You look at Gav, tears streaming down his face, and it’s like everything hits you all at once. Towels drop from your arms, your arms no longer working as your body starts to erupt. “No,” you shudder. “No.” You kept repeating yourself, not quite believing what’s happening. No words spoken, and yet everyone is saying your worst nightmare out loud. 

You could see Gav wanted to say something, but before a word could break the glass box you were building around yourself, you ran. You ran right out the door, and ran as fast as you could to Clive’s chambers. You slam the door shut, starting to pace back and forth with your fists yanking your hair. You turn to the balcony doors, and run to them, slamming them wide open before looking out into the distance. You see the moon, as bright and big as ever, yet Metia no longer shines in its vibrancy. You hear a howl and see Torgal and Jill, Jill’s head tilted down as her body continues to shake. Jill’s connection with Metia was enough to tell you that something terrible has happened: Clive is dead.

You back away from the door, utter disbelief and pain seeping into your lungs. He promised. He promised he would return to me. Your mind keeps reeling, and next thing you know you find yourself in Clive’s bed, wrapping yourself in his covers tightly to encapsulate his lingering scent. Sobs devastate your body, almost to the point of not being able to breathe. But you embraced it, for you wish you could stop breathing all together in this moment. 

You fall asleep with choked up airways and puffy eyes, dreams full of a future that’s no longer possible. You dream of him and him alone. You fall asleep in the dead of night, missing the sun greet Valisthea into a new era.

Day 5

Clive would’ve thought he was dead if it weren’t for the loud thumping in his head. He slowly comes to, the first thing he sees being light. It takes him a few seconds to adjust, his eyes working overtime against the strain. He feels sand, and hears the sound of waves. He goes to move his fingers when he notices he can’t move the ones on his left hand. He brings his left arm to his view and sees his hand is completely petrified. He couldn’t see the rest of his arm, but could feel the lack of blood and flesh ending right above his elbow. He pushes himself up with his good arm, hunching over in his spot as he breathes the salty air deeply.

Origin. He had defeated Ultima. The crystal in the sky was destroyed and now he finds himself here on this beach. Based on his surroundings, he concludes he is on the coast of Storm, even though the dark coast was no longer dark, but bright. It could have easily been mistaken for a coastline off of Valisthea, but behind him were still the dead brush of the continent. 

He wonders how long he’s been out for. He vaguely remembers waking up, but not long enough to recollect anything. He reaches up to his face to touch his facial hair, feeling the scruff that has grown out slightly. A few days, he thinks. It was a mere few days ago when he left the Hideaway with Dion and his brother, and now he is the only one left. It burns him up inside knowing he couldn’t save them, and the fact he watched his brother die not once, but twice weighs heavy on his heart. Especially because if Ultima hadn’t chosen him as his vessel, he most likely would have become the Phoenix and Joshua would be alive and safe. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but alas.

Clive knows it does no good to think this way. Just like he would have done anything to save Joshua, he knows just as well Joshua would’ve done everything to save him. He knew Joshua would want him to help bring Valisthea and Storm into a new age. And most importantly, he knew Joshua wanted him to be happy, and deserved as much. I cannot delve into what was, but what can. And what he can focus on is the future, especially one with you. 

Clive suddenly remembers the lily you had given him, and scrambles to retrieve it from his pant pouch with some difficulty due to one available hand. He felt its petals, still smooth and soft, and pulled it out to see it still looked brand new. He lets out a stuttered breath, eyes watering slightly. He almost couldn’t believe that after everything it had managed to stay in one piece, but he knew it was because you had blessed him with it. You had grown it, cared for it, and plucked it for him, and it was his turn to care for it. Just as well, it was time to keep his promise: to come back to you. He has been away for too long, and he must make haste now.

Clive sighs and slowly starts to stand up, gathering his bearings so as to not get too dizzy.  He stands still for a moment, breathing in deeply once more to ensure he won’t collapse before assessing his situation. He will need a boat. He thinks he could find a port somewhere, and worse comes to worse he travels to Waloed to get one there. He will need to eat something to gain some semblance of energy to do said travel. The biggest obstacle for him will be his arm, a heavy weight on his body that doesn’t help his fatigue. He will have to find something to make it more manageable until he can get back to the Hideaway.

He starts to walk up the beach towards the woods; body heavy from his wet clothes, stone arm, and tired eyes. But he will move forward, for you are waiting back home for him and his safe return. No matter the cost, he will make it home to you. 

“Darling, wait for me. I’m coming home.”

Day 14

It has been two weeks since the end of Origin, and to say you haven’t been grieving well is an understatement. You have a hard time getting out of bed these days, and your motivation to do anything is abysmal. You know your numbness is unsettling to other Hideaway members, many not knowing what to say when they see you. It’s like they saw you change overnight; your happy, go lucky self now tainted with expressionless reactions.

Gav has officially transitioned as the new Cid, but has yet to move into what will be his new room. He only comes in to do some paperwork, and read his latest messages. Oftentimes he will come to you, asking if he can get you anything, and he gets the same response from you every time: a subtle shake of your head. You are grateful that he lets you stay here as the smell of Clive’s sheets is the only thing keeping you from breaking all together. 

You had forced yourself out of bed today to go to the Backyard. You sat beside the flower bed, staring at the flowers hoping for something to happen. Flowers were your comfort for a long time, and now it is like they have no effect at all. You look at the lilies that are off to the side, and all you can do is scoff. Reunion my foot. 

You hear footsteps and paws coming down the stairs. You know it is Torgal and Jill, especially when Torgal has been stuck to Jill’s side for the last two weeks. You can’t blame him. You wouldn’t want to be around you either. 

“You came to pay the flowers a visit. They’ve missed you.” 

“They aren’t very good at showing it.” You shrug. You have been here for a few hours, and your mood hasn’t changed. You feel empty.

“Hortense is holding a sewing class for some new arrivals. You should come and say hi.” Jill says gently, not wanting to make your mood shift further south. 

Deep down, you know you’ve let Jill down. You had promised to be there for her like she had with you, yet your own self pity refuses to acknowledge your lack of empathy. The demon residing in your brain just tells you that no one understands. It doesn’t matter if everyone is grieving about the three’s passing; your happy ending relied on your lover coming back to you. Everyone else can move on, keeping him in their memory. You can’t because a part of you is now dead with him. 

You move to stand up, not wanting to bring her down with you. “They won’t want to see me. I’ll just make a fool out of myself.”

You move to head upstairs when Torgal blocks your walking route, and Jill gets in front of you. She grabs your shoulders, looking at you intently. You can see she is trying hard not to break in front of you, making that deep part of you scream to get over yourself. “Please, _____. You are an important asset to the Hideaway; the Jack of all Trades. I know they would love to meet you. The more kind people like you they meet, the more comfortable they will be here.”

Even since the end of Origin, new arrivals have continued to come in, many wanting to help with the cause. Even though bearers no longer have the power of magicks, it has led to more violence against those with the mark. This has led to everyone working more tirelessly to make strides for a future with new hope reinstated. You have yet to meet many of them, the motivation to do so never in your favor. 

“Clive would want you to continue his legacy.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream how his legacy has taken him away from you. You know your way of thinking is irrational, but the rational part of you is a mountain ready to avalanche. With the last bit you have, you take a deep breath, knowing she is right. He would want you to continue living, even without him. 

“Okay,” you nod. “I’ll meet them. I can’t promise I’ll come off as kind. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the strength.”

Jill smiles, brushing hair from your face. “All I ask is that you try. We miss you.”

You three ascend the stairs, Jill locking arms with you as if you’d run away. You make it to the main deck, seeing Hortense and a few new faces sitting in a circle. Hortense waves, signaling you three to join in. “_____, it is so good for you to join us!”

“It’s, um, great to be here.” You say, trying to come off as happy. 

You, Jill, and Torgal join the circle, quick introductions being passed around before Hortense starts her lesson. She is doing a lesson on basic sewing techniques using cross-stitching circles, showing everyone different patterns, styles, and methods for different types of fabrics. One of the new arrivals, Greta you remember her name being, was looking at your stitching constantly. You turn to look at her, and she quickly turns away. You look at her work, and you can tell she is struggling a little bit. 

“Hey,” you say slightly above a whisper. “Try this.”

You show her a trick when it comes to tightening the thread, making it so it won’t want to fall apart. “Okay, now you try.”

Greta follows your method to a T, going slowly as she does it from memory. She smiles, seeing how well it worked. “That’s genius! Thank you so much!”

You nod, going back to your own work with a subtle smile on your face. You remember when you first learned how to sew, and how difficult it was for you. You remember when you had to learn on your own, Hortense having too much on her plate. You forgot how good it was to help others, and even if this feeling is for a moment, you feel lighter. You face Jill to see her glancing at you, a grin on her face as she continues messing with her circle of fabric. You know she is punching the air in success in her mind right now.

The session lasts for roughly an hour, and Hortense puts it to a close. “I’ll hold another class next week. Feel free to practice in the meantime.”

‘Yes ma'am’ is said in unison, and everyone departs to get ready for supper. You and Jill stay behind, helping Hortense put stuff away and create small chatter. As you all finish up, you pull Jill aside, feeling the need to say something. “Jill, I want to thank you. But most importantly, I want to apologize for not being there for you as well. I promise to do better by you.”

“Oh, _____,” Jill coos, bringing you in for a hug. “It’s okay. I understand your pain. We will get through this.” 

You two continue like this, and all you can think is maybe this is a new start. Maybe you can start grieving in a better way than you have been. You know it won’t happen overnight, but after days of feeling like you’ve been dragged into a hole, you sense you can see the light. 

Someone is yelling from afar, and you pull back to see a woman walking quickly to Hortense, a basket of what looks to be freshly clean linens in her hands. You and Jill walk over to see the commotion, only to see another new face. Hortense motions you two over, grinning from ear to ear with the woman beside her. “Ah, _____! I don’t think the two of you have met. This is Willow. She’s been helping me a lot with many of the laundry duties.” 

“Oh Lady _____, it is so lovely to meet you.” Willow says, bowing her head slightly. “Also, lovely to see you again Lady Jill.”

You bow slightly, not used to such formalities towards yourself. Jill chimes in, glee in her tone. “You as well. Thank you for helping Hortense during this time. I know she surely appreciates it.”

“Of course!” Willow chirps. “I was coming over here to tell her the linens for the beds are done. Lady ____, I was able to clean your sheets as well so you will have a freshly made bed for tonight.”

You stop breathing, your ears deceiving you. “W-what?”

Willow was still smiling, not catching on to the atmospheric shift. “Your sheets! Hortense got me to get all the bed linens for a wash, but I went ahead and had your bed made as a good gesture.” 

Your heart is hammering in your chest, and your vision is starting to blur. She cleaned the sheets. She cleaned Clives sheets. Not yours, but Clives. The one thing you had left of him, the one thing that still smelled like him, the one thing that made it feel like he wasn’t completely gone from the world, vanishing right before your eyes. You are starting to breathe hard, everything around you is no longer real. It is just you being thrown back into your suffocating glass box, and being thrown back into that dreaded hole. You can hear voices, but can’t distinguish what is being said. It’s when you feel a hand on your shoulder that the glass shatters, leaving you bloody in the dark, dank hole. 

You collapse, the flood gates opening with shrieks and agonizing sobs. You are hitting the wood, small splinters digging into your fist as you continue. You didn’t care because no pain was more painful than what you are feeling right now. You hear running, and more commotion in the background.

“There is nothing to see here, take your leave.” It’s Gav. It fucking Gav.

“_____, please get up. What happened?” 

“This is my fault.” Hortense says mortified. “I didn’t tell Willow that room was off limits.”

Your breathing is now rapid, sucking air and pushing it out because it isn’t enough. Arms wrap around you and you thrash around, yelling and screaming to let you go. “Get the fuck off of me!”

Gav has you upright and the rage you are now feeling bubbles out, turning into hitting his chest. “You are the only other person that goes in there, and you didn’t notice the fucking sheets were gone?! How could you let this happen?!”

“Please, _____. I just got back from Lostwing. I haven’t been there since early this morning.” Gav reasons, getting a grip on you with your arms secure so you wouldn’t do something you regret. 

“That was all I had left of him.” You wail. “All I had was his scent and now it’s gone! It’s all fucking gone! He’s gone!” 

“I got her from here. You three go have dinner.” Gav picks you up bridal style, walking up the main deck stairs. You are still crying, and your vision is blurry but you can still make out what is behind you. Willow is hugging Hortense, both visibly upset. But then you see Jill, who is standing there looking at the ground, none moving. Torgal is nudging her, but she won’t budge. 

I’m sorry, Jill. I broke my promise.

Day 31

One month. It has been one month since Clive’s death, and you are no longer alive; a living corpse that lays in bed for days and days on end. You only get up to use the privy chambers, but other than that you lay there. Nothing is enjoyable anymore. The idea of going to the Backyard, to the Shelves, or even the Ale House is unappealing. Gav usually brings you food, sometimes Jill, but you barely touch it. You eat a little, but your appetite is non-existent; you eat only when your stomach tells you to. 

People don’t visit you like they did. Sometimes Jill, Tarja, and even Jote would come in for a short time. They would try talking to you, they would rub your side to bring comfort, they would brush your hair, yet you wouldn’t react. Those visits have slowly dissipated, and you can’t blame them. 

You hate what Clive’s passing has turned you into. You never thought grief would transform you so poorly. Grief isn’t new to you, just as it isn’t new for most people in the realm. You grieved when your parents passed, you grieved when Hideaway members didn’t return from missions, you grieved when Titan and his Dhalmekian goons killed so many innocent people in the Old Hideaway. But Clive is your one true love; the one man that was able to intertwine his soul with yours. They say once the soul has been torn into two, it never fully recovers. 

You get up from the bed with all the strength you can muster. As you stand, you face the mirror from across the room, and what you see makes you shutter. You walk over slowly, not quite believing that it is you in the reflection. Your fingertips drag along the cool surface, slightly dissociating in the process. What was once full and bright features were now hollowed from lack of sleep, crying, lack of appetite, and the grief that’s swallowing you.

“By the Founder, I look dreadful.” 

You want to heal. You want to get better. Your soul is waiting for your shell of a body to hatch, so it may continue to live. But how can you do that in a place where everywhere you look, you see him? Every corner of the Hideaway is covered with Clive’s aspirations, dreams, and ideas. If you want to move on, to grieve healthily, you can’t stay here. You need to be somewhere that takes you back to a time before Clive.

The moon shines brightly in the room, giving you enough light to maneuver around. You pack a small bag of your belongings, only with things that would benefit your travels, and dress yourself in clothes to protect you from the elements. Once situated, you walk over to what was once Clive’s desk and sit down. You grab the quill and a scroll, and look at the blank paper. Your eyes start to water, knowing this decision will ruffle some feathers, and will create a form of worry you won’t be here to satiate. You think about getting back into bed and forgetting about what you are about to do, but you know this is a must. You are holding everyone in the Hideaway back, and you can’t support the cause if you aren’t getting better. 

You must do this, so therefore you write. 

-

“What do you mean she left?” Jill raises her voice, the shock clear in her tone. 

Gav had come into Clive’s old chambers to send some letters out to town leaders when he saw the bed was empty and made, with a scroll lying on top of the pillow. When Gav opened it, and read the words on the page, he immediately called for an urgent meeting with the main Hideaway members. 

“She left this on the bed.” Gav states solemnly, passing it to Otto who is on his right. “Long story short, she doesn’t want to be found. She didn’t give a direct location to where she was heading. All she said is she will send word when she is ready to communicate.”

“She isn’t in the right state of mind to go out by herself!” Tarja says with irritation. “What is she thinking?!”

“How would she have even left? We only have one boat, no?” Tomes questions.

“We have a second boat in case the one Obolus uses is in need of repair.” Otto mutters, looking at the scroll a tad longer before passing it off to the next person. 

Jill stands up from her seat, huffing as she turns to take her leave. Gav stands with her, already reading her mind. “Where the bloody fuck you think you’re going?!

“Rather than us wasting our breath, I’m going to go find her!” Jill shouts, frustration built into her face. 

Tarja stands up quickly to grab Jill’s arm. “Now wait a damn second. We need a plan before we start going out willy nilly.”

“As you said, she isn’t in the right mindset to be out by herself. She could be dead in a ditch for all we know.” Jill seethes, pissed that nobody seems to be as fearful for her friend as she is. 

“She is strong, Jill.” 

Everyone turns to Jote, who is never one to chime in unless need be. She is holding the scroll, looking at it as she speaks. “I don’t know her as well as you all may, but from what I do know she is very resilient. She wouldn’t leave unless necessary, and this letter proves as much.”

Everyone is quiet, thinking caps on as they process Jote’s words. The first words spoken after the pregnant silence is Otto, turning to Gav seriously. “Gav, you are the leader of the Hideaway now. It is your call.”

Gav ponders for a moment, a bit torn of what action is best to take. You are family and he wants to know you are safe. He also doesn’t want to get in the way of what you need to do to get better. He fears sending Hideaway members out to find you will make things worse. 

“I think,” Gav pauses, sighing in the process. “I will alert town leaders around Valisthea to keep their eyes peeled for her. If she doesn’t want to be bothered, we shouldn’t intrude. Getting a location on her though would be beneficial for us to ensure she is at least safe.”

“Gav is right,” Otto agrees. “She will need to go into towns for essentials and will probably pass through a few.”

“If we don’t hear anything within a month's time, we will start sending out some search parties, but as I said we cannot bother her if we find her. We have to hope she will reach out to us when she is ready.” Gav continues, giving everyone a once over to see if his words are reciprocated.

Agreements are shared, some more hesitant than others, before Gav dismisses everyone to their daily duties. When the last person leaves, Gav collapses into his seat, taking deep breaths as he runs his hands over his face. 

“May Greagor be with you, _____.” Gav whispers to himself.

Day 40

You can’t sleep, constantly shifting under the covers with no sense of relief. You feel hot, which is abnormal for this cool night. You start to burn up, skin flaring until it starts to burn. You sit up, panicking as you throw the covers off of you before you freeze, breath caught in your throat. In the moonlight, there is a figure sitting across the room from you, head bowed down with arms in their lap. You panic in silence, not knowing whether to fight or flight.

“You’re awake.” That voice. You know that voice all too well. 

“C-Clive?” You stutter, not trusting your voice to break the quiet. 

Silence suffocates the room. You wait for a response, but he just sits there. You move off the bed and walk towards him slowly, feeling off about what you are experiencing. He’s dead. Metia’s star went out. This can’t be real.

You are standing in front of him now, your bare toes touching his boots. He still doesn’t move, so you move your hands to his head, messing with the strands of hair from his head. “Clive, is it really you?” 

“You left.” You pause, his tone off. Is he not happy to see me?  

“Clive, I thought you were dead. We all did.”

“And yet, you still left.” He growls, finally moving his hands to grip your waist tightly, on the verge of pain. “You promised to wait for me. You broke that promise.”

“Clive,” you choke. “I’m sorry I-”

“You broke your promise to Jill.”

“I didn’t mean to!” 

“You abandoned the Hideaway, my legacy, like it was nothing!”

“Clive, you’re hurting me.” You are crying now. His fingers are digging into your side hard, and you look to see he is shaking with anger. 

“This is nothing in comparison to how you have hurt me!” He yells, and he lifts his head, causing you to gasp. His eyes are orange, glowing bolder and bolder the more worked up he got. You try to pry his grip off of you, but to no avail. 

“Please, Clive!” You cry harder. “I love you, I'm sorry for leaving! I should have stayed!”

“You are too late, _____.” He seethes. 

“Because I don’t love you anymore.”

You shoot up from your bed, screaming in a cold sweat. You look around the room like a mad woman, trying to gauge your surroundings. A wave of nausea overcomes you and you fall to the floor, vomiting from the absolute madness that occurred in your head. You dry heave on the floor, waiting for the next course of nausea to arrive but it never came. You sat up so your back was against the bed, relieved you weren’t going to be sick again, yet frustrated all the same.

You arrived in Dhalmekia four days ago. Originally, you set out to find your childhood home where you grew up with your parents, but when you arrived at the village off to the left of the Northern Velkroy, it had all but been abandoned. Your home, that was left with memories of your old life, ravaged from what you could assume to be bandits. So you kept going, hitchhiking a few rides before traveling on foot. That is when you found a small, two room cottage down in the Fields of Corava, a place you weren’t aware of, having never been south of Dalimil. There was minimal damage; a broken window and some chipped flooring. It was a better place to stay for the time being.

Ever since arriving, however, your mind has conjured terrible dreams with it being the same every time. It was always you and Clive in this room with him degrading your worth. The first night didn’t feel real, knowing that Clive would never act as such with you. But tonight, after having it for the fourth time in a row, your heart is waning.

You stare at the chair you saw Clive in, an increasing amount of anguish washing over you as you look. He’s gone. Your fingers dig into your thighs, trying to ground yourself. He’s gone. You start to choke on air, not wanting the cries of grief released from your lungs. He’s gone.

He’s gone.

He’s gone.

He’s fucking gone!

The shell cracks, the quiet night becomes piercing as you scream. You shoot up to the chair, taking it and bashing it into the floor. You keep screaming, the splinters from the chair and the floor growing with each smack. No matter the ache your body is having, the adrenaline rushing through your it has given your grief new purpose; a cathartic event that is shaping your mentality.

The chair is nothing but wood; the bare bones of it. You get up to open the door, chucking the wood outside the door with rage. The splintered wood digs into your hands, your emotional distress covering any semblance of physical pain. Your screams have turned into wails, angry tears dripping from your face to the floor. 

This rage inside of you stirred by grief makes you feel like you're dying. If anyone told you that Clive’s death would make you transform into the living dead, you’d laugh. How could anyone make you feel dead when you were the cheerful jack of the Hideaway? 

The wood is now dispersed all across the field before you, bathing in the pure light of the moon. You sink into the cottage where the dark swallows you, slamming the door shut and sliding down it as your body continues its assault. Your bloody hands grip at your hair as you rock back and forth, chanting the same two words over and over.

He’s gone.

Day 70

The atmosphere at the Hideaway was the same like any other day. People were up doing their tasks or simply enjoying the day; it has been the same old, same old. 

That is, until the bell on the pier sounded off.

“What is going on?!” Jill yells, everyone looking over the main deck to see the commotion. The bell is only used for emergencies, like if an enemy were to approach the Hideaway. However, Jill sees that people weren’t panicking, but rejoicing. 

Gav runs up to Jill alarmed, trying to get a sense of what’s happening. “Oh fuck me! What’s going on?!” 

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Jill says, her and Gav picking up the pace as they walk to see the situation at hand; both ready to take action. The two of them push through the crowd, finally reaching the railing that sees over the pier. The first instant Jill looks down, a gasp is let out with her hand covering her mouth and eyes bulging. 

“No fucking way,” Gav whispers, not quite believing what he is seeing.

But their eyes do not betray them, for the bell has rang not for an emergency situation, but a message that he is alive. Clive is alive. 

“He made it… Great Greagor he fucking made it!” Gav cheers.

“Clive!” Jill yells.

Clive looks up to the main deck to see two of his cherished friends, and right as he makes eye contact with them, he makes a run for the lift. Gav and Jill follow his lead, running in the direction he is to come to officially greet him. The minute Clive steps out from the lift, Gav and Jill are on him, hugging him tightly to make sure he isn’t here to haunt the place.

“You’re alive!” Jill elates.

“I apologize for my late return. I didn’t realize I’d be sorely missed.” Clive jokes, watching as more people gather around them.

“Are you kidding? This place has been falling apart without you!” Gav exaggerates.

It makes Clive chuckle, placing his hand on Gav’s shoulder as he pulls back. “Seeing all the new faces, I doubt that. And that is thanks to you. Thank you for keeping the Hideaway safe.”

Clive feels something rub his leg, and looks to see Torgal rubbing his head against him. He bends down, using his good arm to rub behind Torgal’s ears. “Torgal, have you been a good boy since I’ve been away?”

“Clive,” Jill gasps. “You’re arm.”

During Clive’s travels back home, his arm had become more of a nuisance if anything. He is a strong man; he can wield swords made of the heaviest metals, no problem. But to have an appendage weigh more than the other, well, that is a whole different situation. He had ripped part of his cape and created a sling to keep his arm in place, making travel more bearable.

Clive stands up straight, rubbing his stoned arm. “Yeah… I didn’t get away completely unscathed.” Clive draws out. “But nevertheless, we won.”

“What of Joshua and Dion?” Jill asks, even though the look in her eyes tells him she already knows. All he could do was shake his head.  

“I suppose I have a lot of explaining to do.” Clive says, having much to tell. 

“You will, but not before we get your arm sorted out.”

“Of course,” Clive chuckles, and turns to see Tarja with her arms crossed and hip out. He is so happy to be back amongst friends and family, ready to truly cherish his time after a battle where he could have easily perished. But most importantly, he is ready to see you.

Truth be told, Clive’s travels back to Valisthea were consumed mostly by you. All he could think about was how he craves for you to be in his warm embrace, giving him kisses and caresses that would heal him for a lifetime. To be away from you for so long is agony, and what has kept him going was knowing the future is now his and yours; one where you both can live lives worth living. 

He looks around and sees a bunch of familiar faces approach, his original crew gathering around him as they welcome his return. He scans the crowd, nodding to everyone and granting a smile. However, he doesn’t see you within the sets of familiar faces. 

“Where’s _____?” Clive asks, scanning the crowd once more for your face.

Everyone goes silent, glancing at one another trying to communicate. An uneasy feeling settles in Clive’s pit, not liking the reaction he got with his simple question. 

Tarja is the first to speak up, diverting the question quickly with urgency. “We can talk about her later, but first we need to do something about your arm straight away. Jill. Gav. Take him to the infirmary. I’ll be up there shortly.” There was a look in Tarja’s eyes that told Clive she wouldn’t be there for a while, which made that uneasy feeling grow bolder. 

Gav and Jill suddenly hook arms with Clive on either side, walking fast so he had no choice but to follow. Clive could feel himself getting frustrated, having wanted to see you for days upon days and not being granted that wish immediately upon his return. 

He leans down to Jill’s ear, needing an explanation immediately. “Where is she?”

“It is better we explain once we are upstairs.” Jill reasons, although there is a shake in her voice.  

The four of them get into the infirmary, Jill and Gav situating Clive on a cot. Gav whispers to Jill, her nodding in response as he jogs out of the room. Clive looks at her, a million thoughts running through his head at their peculiarness. 

“Jill, what is happening?”

Jill twiddles her thumbs, taking deep breaths as she prepares herself. She looks down at the floorboards, and Clive can feel the tension in the room. “Some things happened while you were away, Clive.” Her breath trembles. “You aren’t going to be happy with what I’m about to say.”

“You are worrying me, Jill.” Clive says, trying to stay calm. “Please tell me what’s happened.”

Jill looks up, eyes starting to gloss over. She places her hands over Clive’s right hand, squeezing it gently. “The night of Origin. Metia’s star went out, and I couldn’t feel you anymore after that. I thought you were dead.

“Jill,” Clive says in a low tone. “I apologize for causing so much grief.”

“We all thought you died.” Jill laughs solemnly. “Seeing you right now doesn’t feel real.” 

Clive squeezes Jill’s hands as a means to comfort her, as well as to urge her to continue. She shakes her head, tears as icy Shiva’s magick slipping down her face. “We all took it very hard. Some held hope, but after weeks of no signs of your return, everyone had accepted it.”

Jill’s breath stutters. “But Greagor, Clive. _____ took it so hard.” The tears started to fall, Jill shaking as she continued. “She wouldn’t get out of bed, wouldn’t eat… oh Greagor she wouldn’t talk to anyone. She would just lay there no matter what we tried to do.”

Clive thinks his heart just tore. The thought of you like that made him ill. And the past tense of Jill’s words make the air all the more suffocating.

“Where is she, Jill? Let me see her, please.” He pleads, needing to show you that he lives and has come back to her.

“I’m sorry,” Jill cries, her head bowing onto their intertwined hands. “I’m so sorry, Clive.”

“Jill talk to me, please!” He begs before hearing the door to the infirmary open, only to see Gav with a small scroll in his hand. 

“Gav, you need to tell me what has happened.” Clive says sternly, knowing another second longer with no answer will send him into a frenzy. 

Gav shows him the scroll, making Clive gently let go of Jill’s hands to reach for it but before he could grab it Gav backed away. “When you read this, know that we have plans enacted.”

Gav hands it to him, taking another step back to give Clive more space. Clive unravels the scroll quickly, the need for answers strong. And he gets his answer, but that answer makes his skin run cold and go hot at the same time.

Gav,

I apologize for putting this on you. I know your transition as the new Cid has been a lot, and I am sorry for making it much harder for you. This space is yours now. Not Clive’s, nor mine.

You know as well as the others I am not well. A part of me died the day Clive passed, and being here has made any progress of healing not happen. Truth is, I see him everywhere. Everything here reminds me of him, and it’s killing me because one moment I see him and the next I don’t. The grief that has consumed me has become everlasting. 

By the time you read this, I will be far gone. Please, I beg of you, do not come find me. Do not send anyone to come find me. I will not come back, at least for now. Any chance of me getting better is for me to go out there, not stay here. I know this will cause worry, and I apologize for being a nuisance, but I have no choice. It’s either I die out there trying or I stay here rotting. 

Tell the others I’m sorry, especially Jill, and take care of her. Once I’m ready, I’ll send word of my whereabouts. Until then, please let me grieve in peace.

Much obliged,

_____

Clive is seeing red. His fist starts to squeeze the paper, crackles and the sound of a tear coming from it. “When did she leave?” 

“It’s been about a month.” Gav mutters, and everything that happens next is a blur. Clive shoots up from the bed, charging towards Gav before slamming him into the door.

“Clive, please don’t!” Jill cries.

“She’s been gone for a month?! And you have yet to find her?!” Clive yells, his fist gripping tightly onto Gav’s leathers.

“We have notified people on the outside to keep us posted.” Gav tries to reassure. “That is what the Hideaway members have agreed on.” His words do nothing to soothe him. If he still had his magick, he is sure hellfire would rain on the Hideaway.

“She needed time, Clive.” Jill rests her hand on his shoulder. “We chose to respect her wishes.”

He scoffs, backing away from the both of them, disbelief clear on his features. “You agreed to this too?”

“You were not here to witness what we did!” Jill yells agitated. “Clive, I understand your frustration, but if you saw how she was you wouldn’t think twice.”

He wants to stay angry, put the blame on someone selfishly. You’ve done so much for the Hideaway, the cause, everyone involved. How could they let you leave? But all he feels is defeat. He came too late, and now he needs to make up for lost time.

“Excuse me,” Clive mutters, walking towards the door Gav is still leaning against. 

Jill shoots herself to grab the upper half of his petrified arm, a grunt forced out at the pulling tension. “Clive, you need to stay right here so Tarja can do something about your arm.” 

“No, I am going to go out and look for her! She needs to know I’m alive!” He tries shaking her grip off his arm, but to no avail as she holds on tighter. Panic is starting to set in, not knowing where you are and if you are safe freaking him out. It is almost as if he is experiencing firsthand what you went through. 

Gav steps forward, putting his hands on Clive’s shoulders shaking him slightly. “We have cursebreakers looking for her daily now that the month of her leave has passed. We will find her. And now that you are back, we will bring her home.” 

“Once you are better, we will go with you to search for her. But for right now, you need to rest. Let the cursebreakers do what they’ve been assigned to do.” Jill reassures. “Let’s get you ready for Tarja. The sooner she can fix you up, the faster you can go out.”

Clive takes a deep breath before nodding, and lets Jill and Gav guide him back to the cot. He sits back down, and all he can do is look down at the floorboards. Anger and defeat have turned into a sadness he cannot fully comprehend; a feeling he hasn’t quite felt before. “Do you two mind giving me some time alone? Please.”

“Of course, Clive. We will be outside if you need anything.” Jill says, before the sound of four feet patter across the floor and the creak of the door opens and closes, leaving Clive completely alone.  

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that; unmoving, eyes glued to the floor. All he thinks is he should have found a way to send a message to you so you knew he had survived. Deep down, he knows there was nothing he could have done given his circumstances, but that doesn’t stop the blame game he is putting upon himself. So he sits there, wallowing in his heartache as his shoulders shake and throat lets out faint sobs.

The letter is still held tightly in his grasp. 

Day 71

Waking up early in the morning before the sun makes its greeting isn’t abnormal for you, not when you dream constantly. Sometimes your dreams would startle you. Sometimes they would make you wake up crying. Sometimes they would wake you up with a smile on your face. But the time is always the same; the moon is always there to tell you the time of the morning and you fall back into a deep sleep before the sun shows itself. However, this time is different. 

In recent days, you’ve had nothing but wonderful dreams. Not ones like when you first came here, or ones about a future no longer possible. They were dreams of the past, deja vu in nature. Fond memories of you and Clive ranging from the first time you laid eyes on him to the last. What’s different about your calling back to the real world is your eyes open to hues of yellow and orange shining through the window. It is not the moon’s beams that greet you, but the sun’s rays.

You get out of bed and go to the door, opening it to step out onto the field. The early morning air hits your skin, the grass licking at your feet as you continue forward. You trek to the spot between the elevated land, a v-shape displaying the rising sun as it continues its ascent. Your hand goes out in front of you, watching your skin transform as the sun’s colors grow brighter. You can’t help but smile at the sight before you because all you feel is peace. For once since Valisthea changed forever, you felt like everything will be okay. 

You think about the first time you and Clive watched the sunrise together, holding each other tightly as you both talk about how it is a new day full of hopes and dreams. You remember him telling you how he has never felt more alive than he did in that moment, and you can understand why; you understand because you feel the same. 

You know Clive would want you to live to the fullest, for that was what he wanted all along. Even if things didn’t turn out the way they should have, he would have wanted you to live for him, but most importantly for yourself. He would want you to remember your time together fondly, and that it wasn’t for nothing. It was everything. 

You inhale deeply, the scents of the morning filling your airways before you exhale. You continue to look out on the horizon, mesmerized by the beauty of a new day; a new start .

“I deserve to be happy, right Clive?” You whisper to yourself. “I will continue to live for you and for me. Starting now.”

This is the start of your new life. 

Day 172

“These are absolutely beautiful, my lady. These are so hard to find in Dhalmekia.” 

You smile brightly, watching the woman before you admire your handy work. “I’m pleased that you love them. Morgenbeards are native to the swampy waters in Rosaria, but I was able to get my hands on some seeds.”

“You must know your stuff to get them to grow here.” The lady continues.

You shake your head, grinning at her. “I have my ways.”

To say things have gotten better would be the greatest understatement in history because you are thriving. It is as if everything has fallen into place. You fixed up the small cottage you are residing in so it felt more like a home rather than a temporary visit. You did a lot of prep work to ensure you’d live comfortably. The greatest thing, however, is you found a way to make a living for yourself, the one thing you do best: grow flowers. 

You noticed how flowers grew in the fields, yet you could tell they needed help; the Dhalmeky dirt too dry to keep them alive for long. You were able to get some books on flower gardening, along with different kinds of seeds, all imported from merchants who graciously accepted the little gil you had. It took some time, but those things helped you open a flower shop out of your home. And thus far, it has been a wonderful success.

You had taken a flower cart to Dalimil to get your name out there, and to let people know where to find your business. You eventually want to move your business within the inn’s market, but when you had come to propose the idea, you found out Lubor had been gone on an expedition. The cart will have to do, you recalled thinking. The people there have been nothing but supportive, offering their business in exchange for theirs: vases, business signs, gardening supplies, etcetera. It was a good system that benefitted you and them. You were grateful.

You are sitting at the kitchen table, having closed shop for the day, sipping on some hot tea as you write down your daily earnings. A hard day’s work is rewarding, and knowing your flowers have made your customers happy makes you happy. To be doing things that feel worthwhile feels good, and the last time you felt this way was when you lived at the Hideaway.

The Hideaway. You stop writing as you reminisce about those times. It really wasn’t that long ago, yet it feels like a lifetime. Have I changed that much? 

You miss everyone dearly. You miss Tarja’s tough love. You miss Mid’s inventiveness. You miss Otto’s gruffness. You miss Tome’s stories of his travels. You miss Jote’s coolness. You miss Gav’s banter. You miss Torgal’s way of comforting you. You miss Jill’s faith. You miss everyone. You often wonder if they miss you too.

You are surprised no one has come looking for you, or have found you if they were. You think about what they must have thought when you left that letter. Were they angry? Sad? Worried? All three? Did they listen to you when you said you didn’t want to be found or did they nonstop look day and night for you? You couldn’t tell. Not unless you find out for yourself. 

You set the daily earnings paper aside, and lay out a fresh one, your quill hovering over the paper as you think of what to say. There are so many words to say, yet you don’t know where to start. Do you share everything? Do you just tell them you are okay? Do you tell them where you are? So many questions to answer with little paper to write it all out. So you write something simple, hoping it gets the message across.

I hope this finds you well. Come see me if you wish. You all know where to find me.

Day 179

Clive’s search for you has been non-stop, days and nights spent looking for trails only to find dead ends. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get how you could have disappeared without a trace. But that will not deter him. He will not stop looking until he finds you.

Every place that Clive could think of they checked. Areas in Dhalmekia were the first places they looked, knowing you knew the area better than others. The very first place they checked was your childhood home near the Northern Velkroy, but it didn’t look like there were any signs of life there. Different towns within the area were checked but no one had heard or seen you. Hell, they were more surprised to see him alive and well to focus on the whereabouts of a lost woman. He understood, but it grated his nerves. 

Every other place in Valisthea had been scouted and marked as they went, but every location and mark was the same. So here he was, writing letters to town leaders of the cause again to be his eyes. You have to show up somewhere eventually, if you haven’t already. 

As every day passes, his heart wanes further. It yearns for you, calling out its other half to be complete again. When he does rest, granted not for long periods of time, he imagines you are lying with him. He holds a pillow close in his arms, picturing it to be you to subdue his crazed heart and mind. It was nice to pretend, but then he wakes up and is sorely disappointed to see what lies in his arms is just that: a pillow. It’s a cycle because the same thought crosses his mind each and every time: the day you are back in his arms will be a momentous day. That day has yet to come.

He keeps writing the same words over and over on different sheets of paper when he hears commotion from beyond his doors. The fighting instinct in him shoots up, running to the door to see what was happening when he sees Otto, Jill, and Gav running towards him.

“Has something happened?” Clive asks, alarmed. 

Otto reaches Clive first, shoving a piece of paper into his hand. “She has communicated with us.”

Clive couldn’t read the paper fast enough, not quite believing this day had come. He rings out the paper to straighten it before reading her handwriting. “She is staying in a cottage in the Fields of Corava.” 

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get the lass back!” Gav expresses with full excitement, springs basically on the bottom of his feet with how bouncy he is. 

Jill pats Gav on the back. “Gav, let’s let Clive go alone.” She then turns to face Clive, an understanding smile greeting him. “They will need some time together.”

“Thank you, Jill.” Clive says softly. “I thank all of you.” 

“Well, if that’s the case…” Gav draws out, approaching Clive before slamming his hand on his shoulder, “you better get cleaned up! You have a lady to see.” 

Clive laughs at Gav’s antics, and turns to ready himself; ready himself to return to you once and for all.

Day 184

It’s late in the morning as you gather flowers into your basket, trimming and cutting the ones that have bloomed beautifully. The flower gardens in the field were flourishing more and more every day. The more you work in the gardens, the more fulfillment you feel. You felt this when you helped out in the Backyard, but what you built here is from your own doing. You believe it to be a testament to your growth, showing that you made the right decision all those months ago. You’ve created your own little utopia, and to share it with others is a beautiful thing.

As you cut fresh flowers, you start to wonder if people at the Hideaway got your letter. You would love for them to come visit, and see what you have done with the place. You wonder if they will ever come to see you or if they will send a letter back. It could be any day now, and you will be ready.

You have a full basket of flowers ready to be put in vases, and before you can get up to head inside you see a shadow lingering above your form. “I’m sorry, but I won't be open for another couple of hours.”

There is no reply, and the shadow remains as still as a statue. You sigh, standing up to turn and be more clear with your words. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but I still need to se-”

The flower basket falls from your grasp, tumbling out and falling into a heap by your feet. Time has frozen, not feeling real as you look at the person you have longed to see for months. You question if you are hallucinating, having had moments where you would see Clive one second and the next he was gone. This, however, was different.

The man before you was not in uniform; just a simple white tunic that displayed a few of his chest curls at the v-cut and regular black trousers with his leather boots. His face was clean-shaven, the facial hair he had kept for so long absent from his face making him look younger. The biggest difference, however, was his left arm; from his elbow down was gone. How could this be hallucination?

“Am I dreaming or is this real?” You breathe, blinking a few times to see if he’d disappear. He didn’t.

He takes a step forward, grabbing one of your hands to place it over his heart. He is warm, his heart fluttering quickly. He is looking down into your eyes, where you see his baby blues grow glossy. “This is real.” He murmurs. “I’m home, sweetheart.”

Something about his words break you, your hands latching onto his shirt to hold yourself to reality. He’s home. My Clive is home. 

You can’t help the sobs that leave your mouth as you bury your face into his chest, making him wrap his arm around you as you both collapse down into the flower beds. You are feeling every emotion under the sun, and you can tell Clive does too as he holds you in his lap. He cries with you, sharing a reunion so pure that it is overwhelming. You lift your head and bring his face to yours, kissing him so deeply that your lungs shake. Exchanges of small words come out between the two of you as you give each other kisses that have been longed for. 

“I never thought I’d see this day.” You say with a wobble in your tone, kissing him again and again. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” Clive croaks, and goes back in for your lips.

There you both make up for lost time; holding onto each other in a field of flowers where kisses and touches are continuously exchanged.

- 

You and Clive eventually went inside. You turn the sign on your door to ‘close’, so no one can bother you two. You watch Clive look around the place, taking in your little set up of flowers on the kitchen table.

“I apologize for the mess. I’ve had a lot of requests over the last few days believe it or not.” 

Clive looks at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least. You’ve always had a way with flowers. Speaking of which…”

He reaches into his pocket, only to pull out the lily you had given him all that time ago. You gasp, surprised he has kept hold of it. “You still have it? But how?”

“I protected it with my life.” Clive sets it onto the table. “You gave it to me with the wish that I’d return to you. I wasn’t going to lose it easily.”

“You are so endearing.” You say, but you have so many things you want to know and that alone puts a small frown on your face.

Clives sees the shift immediately, grabbing your hand to console you. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 

“What happened at Origin, Clive?” You ask, needing to know what he went through for the time he was gone.

Clive exhales, seemingly knowing that question was coming. He pulls your hand towards him as he walks to your bed. “We should sit down. It is a long story.”

The two of you sit down and Clive still has a tight hold on one of your hands. “Forgive me, for this may take me a second. Thinking about certain events there still hurts.”

You bring your free hand to his face, which feels smooth under your touch. His head leans into your palm, turning slightly to kiss the delicate skin. “Take all the time you need. I am here.” You murmur. 

And so, he tells the tale of Origin. He tells you about Dion’s sacrifice. He tells you about what he found out about Ultima’s plans. He tells you about Joshua’s passing, something he had a hard time conveying without his voice breaking, but he pushed on. He tells you about Ultima’s demise. He tells you about how he woke up somewhere off the Shadow Coast of Storm. And he tells you how throughout his journey back to Valisthea, all he could think about was how he couldn’t wait to come home to you. All of it was hard to listen to, hearing what he went through from Origin till now. 

“So, Metia going out was a sign that magick has been lost…” 

“Mmm,” he hums, the both of you lying down now.

“So that’s why you didn’t become wholly petrified? You stopped it in time.”

“Tarja did a great job removing it and ensuring my stub was healed properly, despite my stubbornness.” He jokes, but you don’t laugh. All you can think about is the past.

“If only I waited a little longer,” you start. “I would have saved us so much grief.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself.” Clive shushes, kissing the top of your head and pulling you closer into his body. “Jill told me you had a very hard time grieving. I will not shame you for doing something you felt was right.

You bury your head into Clive’s neck, breathing in something that is so undeniably him. “You know, when I first got here, I would have these dreams. Nightmares really.”

Clive stays silent, letting you continue. “It would always start and end the same. I would wake up with you in the room, and the next thing I knew you were telling me I had betrayed you… and that you no longer loved me.” You start to sniff, not liking to recall those dreams. “For such a long time, I felt I didn’t deserve to be happy because I had left part of your legacy behind. It felt like your ghost was haunting me day and night.”

“Oh, darling,” Clive pulls you into him so you are on top of him with legs on either side of him. Clive brings your forehead to his, his thumb coming up to swipe the tears building up in your eyes. “I could never not love you.” He looks deeply into you, burning the truth of his heart into you. “I am yours even beyond death.” 

His words overwhelm you, and you lean down to kiss him with every passionate fiber in your being. Your hands go to his torso, running your fingers up and down the sides as you continue to show him how much you love him. He grunts into your lips, his arm holding you down to him. Your hands start to slide slowly under his tunic, your fingers slowly ascending until they reach his chest only to go down again. The delicate touch of your fingers makes his hips buck right against your heat, a grunt and a moan echoing together simultaneously. Your hands go back up again, only this time you bring the tunic with you. 

“We have a lot of lost time to make up for.” You say against his lips.

Clive smirks at your boldness, only to flip you over on your back so he is hovering over you. “That we do, darling. Forgive me, though. Having one arm gives me less leverage.”

You hum, bringing him back down to you by his hair. “I’m sure we can manage.”

You two make love into the night and into the morning, not getting enough of one another; making up for lost time.

Day 200

Since you and Clive’s reunion, he had decided to stay for a while. He had sent a letter to the Hideaway to let them know you were well and that he would be staying for the time being, making Gav in charge. 

“He’ll love that.” You had joked.

“He’s his own man. I have all the faith in him.” 

These last few weeks have been sublime. When you wake up, you see Clive snoozing away beside you on your right; always the right so he can wrap his arm around you in his sleep. He has also helped you with the flower shop. You two would go out in the morning before the heat set in to work the ground and water the flowers. You don’t know if the yearning in your body has yet to be satiated, but there have been times when you would come outside to gather more flowers to see Clive with his shirt off, sweat glistening on his burly chest as he works. It takes every bone in your body not to jump his own. Most times, you are unsuccessful. 

You also found out Clive is quite the salesman. When you two would go out to Dalimil to sell from your cart, the way he is able to convince people to make a purchase is astounding. Is it the charm? The looks? A combination of both? You could guess, but it didn’t matter. Every time you made a sale, he would turn to give you a quick peck. 

“I would kiss you for every individual flower we sell, but we don’t want to scare them away now, do we?”

After a long day out in Dalimil, you two are now inside the cottage finishing up dinner. You are cleaning the dishes when you feel him behind you, wrapping his arm around you pulling your hips to his. You hum in a laughing manner, his friskiness showing as he places kisses on the side of your face. “Clive, let me finish these.”

“They aren’t going anywhere.” He hums, his kisses lingering below your ear. 

You sigh but continue cleaning. Clive, on the other hand, was not having it. He pulls you away, soap and water sloshing from your hands as he pulls you to him. He plops down onto the kitchen chair, bringing you into his lap. “Hmmm, I got you.”

“You are such a horn dog. Are you sure Ifrit still doesn’t linger within you?” You laugh, then squeak when he pinches your side.

“In all seriousness,” he murmurs in your ear. “I want to talk about something.”

“About?” You hum.

“About our future.” 

“Go on,” you urge. “What about our future?”

“Well,” Clive starts, “living the way we have the last couple weeks, my mind can’t stop wandering to what I want for us.”

Your hand reaches up to his cheek, only for him to nip at the tips of your fingers causing you to giggle. “Such as?”

“To start the life we’ve always talked about.” He places more kisses on your neck. “One where our lives are strictly ours. One where I come home to my beautiful wife.” 

“I like the sound of that.” You mewl, his kisses making you squirm in his lap.

“One where I get to see you bearing our child.” His hand goes down to your tummy, rubbing just above your uterus. 

“I’ll be surprised if I’m not already with all the love making we have done.” You giggle. 

He chuckles along with you, his hand squeezing your flesh. “You’d look beautiful. You always do.” He continues, “one where I get to raise a little me, a little you, or both.”

“It all sounds so wonderful.” You purr, feeling all warm and fuzzy at his remarks. 

“Then let’s go ahead with step one.” Clive says, lifting you off of him only to sit you back down. He kneels before you, both of your hands in his one. “I don’t have a ring, but I can’t wait a moment longer. _____, will you do me the utmost honor of marrying me?”

You hum, smiling brightly at his question. “Would you have me in a wedding dress? A big ceremony?”

“Anything your heart desires.”

You shake your head, laughing at his insistence. You look at him, letting yourself get swallowed by his eyes. “I’d marry you with just the clothes on my back.” 

Clive grins, bringing your left hand to his lips as he kisses your ring finger. “I cannot wait to marry you, future Lady Rosfield.”

Lady Rosfield. It has a nice ring to it.

[postersofleon]

notes: another from another. it has smut so no minors

death island leon is in acceptance. well, at least for now. he is lonely, but at least he is lonely with friends. he is hanging out with chris, claire, rebecca, and even jill. sure, he wants to have a partner, but like said before, he is accepting he will definitely struggle with love. then, he got a stupid crush.

crushes are for kids. he saw you. how you laughed. how your eyes shined brightly when you saw something you liked, but once he saw your partner in your arms. he cursed. of course! but he figured something out. he doesn't necessarily need romance to survive anyways so he became your friend. he was a bit of gentle friend with a smart mouth. everyone took notice how you laughed or giggled at everything he said. chris wanted to scold leon for flirting with a person who is already dating someone, but rebecca was like, "he isn't."

it was true. leon wasn't flirting with you. he was just being himself. leon saw you as his best friend, and so did you. when your partner noticed it was getting cold, leon already gave you his own jacket. leon needed to buy coffee, rebecca bought one for him you already bought him one. you two rock, paper, scissors to see who had to buy each other things. you bought him a sticker to put on his helmet.

everyone knew you two were falling in love. even your own partner. all but you two. so, when your partner broke up with you, you were shocked, to say the least. now, everyone was waiting for you two to start dating, but it was now kinda stupid. chris was now playing the waiting game while everyone stopped paying attention. everyone now thought you two were clingy friends, but chris knew better. every time you two alone, chris would 'accidentally' open the door but all he found was leon and you having a spa day.

you two weren't in denial like chris thought. you two enjoyed each other's company. he showed his scars from the job he has. you showed him how you cooked your favorite food. both of you were obviously falling in love with each other. you knew his fake smiles from his real ones. leon would rest his head on your shoulder.

chris was losing his mind.

but soon, after so many times opening doors, chris finally caught you two kissing. it was satisfying yet at the same time. it wasn't.

when you begin to date, you two still acted the same around each other and other people. leon would attempt to ruffle your hair, you would avoid it. he would say he is lost in your eyes. he completely forgot he used to have a crush on you because he fell in love with you in a different way.

chris now hates you two.

NSFW

leon goes off in missions. he gives you sex talk, what he would want to do with you. how he wished it was your mouth around his base. he would make the worst dirty jokes of you, but he would still be too in love to say a lot. he shows it. leon would kiss your chest repeatedly and jack off on your chest and face.

just like your horrible slow burn relationship, leon and you enjoy cockwarming. it's just a bunch playful sex, he wants to make you laugh while he gently pumps his cock in you. he recorded one time, and he claimed he wanted to do it again. he forgot. you though do have only pictures of him. his lips covered in arousal, his lazy eyes of wanting to please you. leon remarks how good he looks, but he is a bit too shy to see the photos again. he doesn't want to see himself, he wants to see you.

[messenger-of-babel]

Till Death Do Us Part

Summary: Chris is plagued by memories, nightmares, and the dream of you. (Chris Redfield x reader)

Word Count: 2.8K

Notes: UNIT OF A MAN CHRIS REDFIELD. I love how he looks in Re8 (re7 Chris broke my heart and cut the brakes on my car fr). Veryyy minor language, I swore like once. It's funny I came here to be a resi blog and look at how the turn tables. Anyways, Chris stans rise up y'all are so nice~ xx

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Alone in the car, Chris was left with his thoughts a little longer than he would have liked.

Thumbing the lighter, he brings the flickering flame to his mouth, lighting the stick that hung from the press of his lips. With a deep inhale and slow close of his eyes, he lets the nicotine work its way around his system, blissfully whisking the worries from his mind. His muscles loosen under the layers of tactical and cold weather gear, finger relaxing on the gun trigger and letting the weapon rest in his lap. These were the moments that Chris Redfield let the memories catch up with him.

 His team was setting up in their operation in Miranda’s village, voices occasionally cutting in through his radio, but they didn’t need him right now. He could have a moment to himself among the chaos of it all, and deep down he knew his team gave him the space deliberately. For a moment, he stopped running for just a second and let his mistakes settle in.

Most of the time he thought of Piers.

He thought of the young man who came to him all those years ago and dragged him out of the pit he had dug himself into. The stern face of the young soldier who tore away the coffin lid of alcohol and blacking out in alleyways, pulling him back into the light. Who made him a captain again, who never gave up on him. The very same friend who pushed himself past the limits of being human to save Chris. To save the world.

When he was younger and more guilt ridden, he had played out the 'what if' scenarios like clockwork. What Piers would be doing now if he was alive, if Chris had been able to hand the mantle over to him like he intended. It had morphed into what Piers might have done if Chris had died instead, taken his place in the escape pod and been granted the chance to see the sun again. It was endless nights of lost sleep; the dreams being replaced with nightmares every time he thought of one of those situations. His sanity and his mind hung on by a thread in those moments, doing everything he could to not relapse into the place he was before Piers. He slipped more often than he'd like, but the seared face of Piers haunted the back of his eyelids like a ghost, and eventually, he always put the bottle back down.

The second person he thought of was Jill.

She was still alive, but not the same person she had been back in S.T.A.R.S. He couldn’t blame her though; he was hardly the same either. He was more rugged, more gruff, weather beaten and fucking tired. Despite the times she caught his gaze and bluntly told him to stop worrying, he never really could. She was like his lifeline back to the Chris of the past, where he cracked smiles more often than not and spent time making jokes at the captains expense. That kind of Chris who was young and full of cheek, brimming with the audacity of youth.

and with youth came naivety and innocence.

Joining the S.T.A.R.S team as ex-military he thought he had seen everything, which had given him the boisterous ego infamous among the RPD. The fact that he missed that naivety drew a copper taste to his mouth, forcing himself to swallow and take another drag of the cigarette. Back when Wesker was Captain Wesker, and Chris's loyalty was intact and oblivious to the sting of betrayal. When he still had Barry and Dewey and Dooley and Brad. Things were simpler, despite how often he liked to brag about what went on in his job. Yet at the end of the day, he was still passionate about serving and protecting the people he loved. He thought he was making a difference.

Jill never said outright that she was mad at him, she was his partner after all. Guilt had clawed way for a burning rage when he thought he had lost her, settling in his chest like a poison. Then she had come back, with a fire in her eyes that spoke to kill him. They had worked their differences out over the years, overcoming the scars of that ordeal together. The mansion, the canyon, the incident in Africa, all of those they had talked past with more than a bottle of whisky between them, and for like a small moment it was like it had never happened. They moved forward, together. stronger. He was more grateful for her company and support than he showed, and he knew that Jill would be uncomfortable if he brought it up.

Currently his mind was stuck on Ethan.

Ethan Winters, who he had lied to about the situation involving his family. He knew that Ethan deserved to know, deserved to know about Mia, his daughter Rose. Maybe his heart had gotten more and more calloused over the years, building slowly till he felt very little at all. It was so easy to make the calls, to think of the bigger picture all the time. For the greater good of the world, unable to see the pain he caused when he took away the only world that Ethan cared about.

And now Ethan was fighting tooth and nail to get it back.

Chris respected how the man had marched bravely into the face of death for the sake of his family, to get back his daughter. Even though Chris had warned him not to and Ethan caused an insurmountable amount of inconvenience in his wake; Chris respected him. He knew that Ethan would unlikely forgive him when he found everything out, would curse him for hurting who he had thought were his loved ones. Chris knew he had failed him already, so the sting of that thought had dulled each hour he spent in this cursed village. The village that Ethan Winters was currently burning down in the name of love.

Chris wanted to shake the man down, to tell him to stop fighting and to let him and his team handle it. That his emotions were getting the better of him, and he wasn't going to get anywhere with just willpower and a handgun. He wanted nothing more than to tell him he was being an idiot, and that Chris himself would never make such stupid decisions. Yet he couldn't make the words form in his mind, knowing he himself had been just like him once, willing to throw himself in the way of everything for one person.

You.

Chris had made many mistakes in his life, but you never were one. If anything, you were the one thing that was going right for him when everything seemed wrong. When he had come knocking on your door late at night, worn out from work, you always welcomed him in with a warm smile. No one knew about you two, and that's the way both of you preferred to keep it. You were a regular cop working with the RPD, letting you both trade glances with each other in the hallways and a few too many stolen kisses in the evidence room. He had a faint feeling that Jill suspected something, but if she knew she never said.

He loved how warm you were, how kind-hearted. Late nights lying in your bed talking about life, the past and the future. Leaning over his chest with sparkling eyes one night, you had told him why you had become an officer. Something with a wage big enough to pay for your two younger sister's tuition, so they wouldn't have to face the level of poverty you had. Something that could help others get off the streets, keep the kids safe and away from the drugs and addictions that plagued Raccoon's backstreets. With a soft smile on your lips, you told him of how you wanted to buy your mother a bigger house one day, with enough money sent home each week that she would never have to wonder if she could afford heat in winter again.

His breath was stolen at the genuine way you told him of your childhood, your upbringing and struggles. The way your eyes still glimmered with life after everything, that you were still able to see the good in things. The way that you used it to make yourself stronger. Although he had been in S.T.A.R.S, in that moment he wanted nothing but to have a fraction of the sheer strength you had.

Then had come the Arklay mission, which he left for so suddenly there was little room for more than a brief peck on the cheek and a reassurance that he would be back. That hadn't been enough to smooth the worry lines from your forehead, but you let him go anyways, fingers uncurling from the material of his uniform. He wished he had looked back just a little longer, held you just a little closer, not knowing that would be the last time he ever saw you.

Of course, everything in Arklay happened, the memory of that making him sigh and tap his fingers restlessly on the windowsill. Another drag of the cigarette brought his shoulders down from bunching near his ears. exhaling the plume slowly, he closed his eyes and let himself indulge in the thought of you. It was nearly your anniversary, a week off in fact. It was the only time he allowed himself to think of you, the only time he could let himself remember the curve of your smile and the glow of your eyes. If you had been allowed to be together, you would be celebrating your 24th anniversary this year. He wondered how many of those you might have been married for, if you would have had children or any on the way. Where you would have moved to, the house you would have wanted, the life you could have built.

But it hadn't worked like that.

He had left to chase Wesker, hoping he could end it quickly and come home to your arms, body tracing its way home like a beacon. He saw traits of himself in the way Ethan fought, fighting for his daughter and wife the same way Chris had fought for you. Instead, all he got was the news of Raccoon being destroyed, and taking his heart with it. His eyes had been locked onto the grainy TV of the European hotel room, shock making tears sting the back of his eyes. He had raced back, Wesker be damned. He could always chase him down again, but you? He didn't think he could survive another night restless like that again.

He had run home like the fear of God was under his feet, eventually finding Jill. It had been an accidental reunion, and he had been more than glad to see her alive. Someone was alive, which meant that there was hope. But when she regarded him with sad eyes and a slight hitch in her tone, he faltered. He wasn't sure if he had ever felt more fear than he did in that moment, vision blurring at the corners as she pulled something from her jacket pocket to give to him.

Maybe Valentine had pieced it together after all.

For all the horrors, monsters and battlefields Chris Redfield had seen, nothing had hurt him more than seeing your badge lying in the middle of her palm. He had demanded answers, not even caring if the tears burnt themselves to the forefront, but Jill refused. her lips were sealed tight, looking down and away from him.

"For your own good." She had said firmly, jaw set tight. "You don't…you don't want to know. They wouldn't have wanted you to know." She said softly, before quietly muttering her apologies. That had sealed the deal for him, heart beating out of time in his chest. All he could do was close his fingers around the cold piece of metal he scooped from her palm, blood stained and sharp.

Chris was no fool. he knew what had happened in Raccoon prior to it being bombed. The terror on the streets, the outbreak that spread like fire. he knew of cops and S.T.A.R.S members alike that turned, but he had always had a hope that you had gotten out. You were smart, so much smarter than him. But as Jill handed him your badge, he knew that no matter how hard he tried to fight it, you were gone.

Not knowing what happened to you exactly ate at him for years, plaguing his nights and soaking his sheets with sweat. It was the same dream, hand extending out towards him, pain written on your face. "Help me." you'd plead to him, over and over. He'd try his best, but he wouldn't be able to stop the way that your skin fell from your bones, melting off your muscles and running blood down your fingertips. He tried to hold you each time, trying to keep you together as you thrashed and screamed. His touch only seemed to make you decay further, skin rippling and warping under his fingertips. With a final ""Help me," you'd lunge for his neck without fail, jerking him upright with wide eyes and a rabbiting heart. He wasn't sure what was worse, wondering if you had turned and gone though the pain of becoming infected, or experienced the horror of watching a bomb come down on you instead of a rescue chopper.

It was too hard to imagine, so over the years he built his own story. It had started originally that you died doing something heroic, saving a family or some poor civilian. That was in your nature, always kind-hearted. It slowly morphed into you fighting for your life, bravely tracking down horde after horde to defend what survivors you could find before taking your last stand, being the hero he knew you to be. However, in his old age those stories lost their shine, and the comfort they brought turned into a grimace. Nothing could take away that you lost your life too young. So now he thought of a different one, a special one he only indulged in for this time of the year.

One where you were waiting at home for him as usual, radiant and beautiful as ever. He'd be able to come back home from this mission, taking his weary body up to your embrace and letting himself rest there as you welcomed him back. Hip popped as you leant against the front porch, wearing the same uniform he had left you in all those years ago. He could gaze into your bright eyes again, cover the smirk on your lips with his own when he kissed you, hand on your waist to remind himself that you were real. He'd take you out to some local restaurant you had both made your favourite, something he imagined you found together when you moved out of the city. In a quieter place like the countryside, just what you wanted. He'd take great pride ordering the meal you liked, something that he knew by heart. It was a dream where he got to see you all dressed up, smiling at him from across the flickering candlelight, reaching over to envelop his hand with yours. Then he would cast his eyes down and see the ring on your finger, filling his heart with warmth.

That was something that his nightmares couldn't even touch. The thought of you becoming a zombie, one of the infected and rotting away in his arms was banished the nights he let him indulge in the fantasy. A world where his leaving hadn't damned you, where his touch still meant promises for the future, not a death sentence.

For a full moment it would all feel warm and vivid and real, as if you had come down from your heavenly seat just to bless him for another moment. In that small corner of his heart, the rot couldn't touch you. You beamed up at him as radiant as the day he left you, a smile forever etched into his mind.

When he opened his eyes next you were gone, and he was back to sitting in the car preparing his assault on Miranda. There was a weak voice in the back of his head telling him that you were still waiting back home and all he had to do was finish this mission. He kept it alive, even through the crackle of the radio as his team patched in; already in position. He crushed out his cigarette, reloading his gun by muscle memory. As he exited the car he cast one look up at the bleak sky before patting the smooth, RPD police badge tucked into the lining of his vest, right over his heart.

"happy anniversary babe." he murmured softly, and he knew somewhere, someplace, you were smiling on the other end.

[d10nsaint]

HOTEL— Leon, Chris, Albert x fem! reader.

summary; They know that they should leave you alone— after all, they ended the relationship. And yet, they just cant get enough of you after the breakup.

Tags/ Warnings:Nsfw themes (no smut) Ex! boyfriend/Fiancé Leon, Chris, & Albert x fem! reader. Toxic relationship themes in Leon & Wesker’s part. RE6 Leon, RE5 Wesker, & pre-RE6 Chris. features a summary and a scenario for all characters!

LEON K.

LEON who comes to your door in the middle of the night. He swears he wont come back, that he’ll leave you alone.

You both know he’s lying.

After a particularly grueling mission, he just needs to be held—and who else could warm his heart & tell him that he’s safe other than his ex-girlfriend?

He was the one who broke things off. He was the one who said that you could’ve gotten hurt in the relationship—and no matter how much you pleaded, he walked out of the door without sparing a second thought. But now that same man is in front of your door, drunk, begging to be let in.

“Baby pleaseeeee let me in,” He was practically crying for you. “‘promise i’ll leave you ‘lone after tonight, I swear, baby, just for tonight, lemme treat you good.” His words were barely even making sense to you. He wanted to sleep with you? You couldnt let him drive back home because he’s shit-faced and if he died, it’d rain hell on your conscience.

“Come in, Leon.” You stepped to the side and let him stumble through the door. The moment he gained his composure he was hugging you as tightly as possible.

“I know I did you wrong baby, but please. Mission went shit. Need ya’, you always tell me how good I am —you make me feel so good, I just need you right now, just for one night, then i’ll be outta ye hair.”

You had every fucking right to push him out of the door.

Who did he think he is? Dumping you then coming back to you when he needs you?

And yet, you let him in.

You let him touch you, let him beg and plead for you to let him do this again. Because you loved him.

And when he came back for more, you let him in with open arms.

CHRIS R.

CHRIS who meets you accidentally. You both worked for the BSAA, and even though you worked in different departments, you two met each other at a company gathering at a bar.

The entire night is awkward touches and averted glances. The break-up was a mutual thing— Chris was married to his work and didn’t have time for you. simple. Even so, that didn’t mean that unsettled feelings weren’t in the air.

At the end of the night, you’re both wasted and end up sharing a taxi (courtesy of Jill, who sees the tension between you two) and somehow, He ends up at your house. More than once after that.

The taxi was filled with your giggles and the smell of liquor as you laughed at Chris while reminiscing about how your relationship used to be. This felt so normal— you, him having fun with lingering touches in places where friends don’t usually put their hands.

His hand was rubbing your upper thigh, sliding your dress up. You were sobering up by the minute, but you didnt want the moment to end.

No other man could satisfy you the way chris did—the way he knew when to be rough, what spots made you moan.

And you both knew what would’ve happened if you gave in to the pleasure—this would become a common occurrence.

But you loved Chis, so much.

You’d risk anything just to touch him again, and by the third time he came back to your house, you’re sure he would too.

ALBERT W.

ALBERT who comes back for you after years of radio silence.

The last time you saw him, it was before he left for the Spencer mansion. Afterwards, STARS just..disappeared. Nobody knew where the members went.

You tried to move on—knowing that you couldn’t be hung up on him forever, and lets face it, he was probably dead. Umbrella came crumbling down, and there was no trace of him.

Of course, until 2005.

Chris Redfield came to your door, talking about how your fiancé was still alive. Of course, your relationship hadn’t been the best—it was built on lust and thin walls of trust, but you’d be damned if you didn’t see the man again.

Chris also told you about uroboros, asking you if you’d known anything about Albert’s schemes.

A few months after your ‘talk’ with Chris, you’re home alone when a short (but assertive) knock hits your door.

Of course, you cautiously open the door.And who the hell do you see?

A fucking Huge man with sunglasses looking down at you.

“ There you are, dearheart.” Albert took a small step forward and put a hand on your cheek. His hands were fucking freezing, making you fully awake if you weren’t before.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You stepped away from the door as if scared (Which, you were, he was tall as shit.)

“Im just visiting my fiancé, is there a problem?” He stepped past you into the house. He took a glimpse around then slid his shoes off by the front door. You were fucking baffled.

“ Albert, what the fuck are you doing? Years of fucking silence from you and you just—appear? You waltz into my home thinking nothing had changed?!”

“Why’re you questioning something you know you wont get the answers to? It’s like trying to prevent the inevitable.” He seemed so nonchalant as he strolled into your house, observing where you’ve been living.

“It seems as if you’re taking good care of yourself. perfect.”

“what in the hell do you want, Albert?” You let out a deep sigh— if anybody found out that Albert was here, you’d be taken in for questioning and all of that shit— worse case arrested for letting him into your house.

“simple. I want you.”

[a-thousand-lives-lost-for-peace]

thinking about post-re5 jill again and how it would have affected her so bad after.

Not only did she have the mental reminders of what she had been forced to do, constantly rethinking them over and over again, but she also had the physical reminders. Her now-blonde hair, and the scars on her chest especially. She would have had to work so much to conceal those, just because she didn't want any kind of reminder of what had happened to her. She would have had to dye her hair - and every time the blonde showed through it was yet another reminder when she was just starting to forget; and she would have to redye it again all while working through her own reactions to it.

Same thing with her chest scar, she can't really wear the clothing she was used to, she would have had to wear shirts with high collars, anything she could pull up or use to hide the thick scarring there, because she didn't want to remember and she didn't want anyone else to see. Jill would have kept it secret from everyone except the people who already knew - and would never reveal it to anyone with the exception of Carlos. Every time she got dressed, every time she looked in the mirror she would see that scar, and it would bring back those horrible memories she kept repressed.

and even that took a long time, months even, before she felt ready enough to share what had happened to her.

[kamiiri]

Once Buck shut the door, Buzz began to answer. “Buck won’t have full access to the facility at first. He will learn about the project in time, and he’ll hear it directly from me. He’s just not ready yet.”

Ripp couldn’t help but laugh. “Right. The project. And you think he’s just gonna be A-OK with keeping Jill locked up? He’s gonna hate you, man.”

“I believe that Buck will understand we sometimes need to make sacrifices for the greater good. I thought you were beginning to understand that as well. I guess I was wrong,” Buzz concluded. “Perhaps you need some time away from work to continue your training. You and I both know your combat skills could use some brushing up on anyway.”

All Ripp was hearing was that he wouldn’t be able to watch over Johnny’s family anymore. “No! No. Please, don’t do that. I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

“No, it’s not. In fact, I don’t want to hear anything at all. I want to see some action, Ripp. Start doing better. I’m tired of having this conversation with you.” The man sighed, deep in thought, and then he looked back up at his son. Buzz was always shocked by how much Ripp’s eyes looked like his ex-wife’s. “Ripp...I just want what’s best for you. I want what’s best for all three of you. You get that, don’t you?”

Ripp pivoted toward the door and said, “Whatever.”

“And Ripp,” Buzz added. “Cut your damn hair, okay?”

Out of spite, Ripp thought to himself that he might never cut his hair again.

[mossyivy]

𝔹𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕒 𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 ℝ𝕦𝕟 [ℙ𝕋𝟚.]

DI!Leon Kennedy x (Fem)Reader

Summary: You sit in the hospital and contemplate the aftermath of yours and Leons near death experience. All while waiting on him...

Words: 3.2k

Content Warning: Talks of injury, Leons in a coma, crying, this part actually made me sad..., cliffhanger (: (yes I'll make more if this does well!)

[Previous Part] | [Next Part]

It's been hours.

Hours since you were put in this hospital room in Miami.

Hours since, you were carried off screaming and flailing by a fellow agent.

Hours since you last saw him "alive".

You've asked different hospital staff at least 20 times for updates. Hearing the same things over and over again.

'He's in critical condition.'

'He suffered severe blood loss and a possible brain injury so comas are fairly common.'

'He'll need surgery once he's able to undergo anesthetic.'

Aside from whatever Rebecca came to share, you were completely in the dark...

And all you can do is lie in your hospital bed and wait.

The only company you have is your thoughts and the woman in the room that you've refused to speak to since she came in a few hours after they allowed you visitors.

"You can't stay mad at me forever."

That's the 6th time Jill's said that... But you're still going to talk. At least not to her.

She sighs heavily at your continued refusal to talk.

"So do your eyes not work either or are you just so pissed you don't want to even look at me?" Deeply inhaling through your nose, you look at her, crossing your arms.

"Oh wow, your ears work too? So full of surprises."

"Fuck. Off." You grumble, voice cracking from lack of use and your deteriorating emotional state.

There's a knock at the door, gaining both your attention. Jill stands up, walks over and opens it, Rebecca stepping into the room, glancing around quickly before her eyes land on you. She looks almost happy to be there, even during this mess of a situation.

"Hey, I just came to check in and share some news." Rebecca sounded chipper. Jill shuts the door, walking back over and pulling a seat up for her, a fold-up chair next to your bedside.

You sit up, excited and about to start asking millions of questions.

"Is it-" Rebecca puts her hand up, stopping you from talking. You sit back in bed, trying not to jump down her throat about anything.

"Yes." Rebecca starts as she sits down. "He's stable enough for surgery. The doctor told Chris that it looked like part of his large intestines was clipped. He'll need a hell of a lot of stitches but he'll be okay. And he's incredibly lucky it wasn't anything vital." You sigh, feeling your body relax finally after hours of being tense.

"Thank God..." Jill rubs her forehead as she starts pacing the room, finally feeling some sliver of relief.

"But..." Rebecca starts again, looking between Jill and you. "He didn't wake up before surgery... It's up to him now."

What if he doesn't wake up for a while?

What if he's stuck in the hospital for months?

What if he never wakes up?

"Hey, hey, he's gonna be okay." Jill walks over noticing your lack of response. You sniff, starting to feel the tears fighting their way out. The past few hours are the most stressful ones of your life.

Sure you've dealt with loss before. Even the loss of a coworker, but not Leon...

Leon is different. He means too much to you.

Jill pulls you into a hug as Rebecca stands to rub softly up and down your back.

"You know he's gonna pull through. He's Leon." You laugh softly into Jill's shoulder as she makes her statement, she's not wrong though.

"It would take an atomic bomb to stop that man." Rebecca adds, leaning into your other side.

"It's just... It's different this time." Jill pulls away listening to you, wiping a few of your tears away with her thumb.

"What?" She looks at Rebecca who just shrugs in response, unsure of what exactly you meant.

"Is Chris okay?" You look up at Rebecca, changing the subject because you're not quite ready to discuss what happened yet.

"He's not still woozy from the emergency transfusion is he?" You ask, looking at Rebecca. She nods.

"He's still recovering a bit. But Claire is with him in the waiting room, shoving whatever vending machine food she can find into his mouth. Like some kind of... weird... mother bird or something."

"Of course she is." Jill, chuckled, looking back at Rebecca, smiling and happy to hear some good news.

"So, what's going on with you?" Jill turns back in your direction as Rebecca asks, gesturing towards your cast.

"Leg fracture, ankle fracture and spinal fracture... I'm gonna need some physical therapy in a few weeks but I should be perfectly fine. Other than a bit of nerve damage that still needs to be accessed fully after the spinal fracture heals..." Rebecca's brows drop, frowning.

"Permanent?" Nodding slowly, you saw her face change, she looked so disappointed and guilty. "You can't go back to the D.S.O. can you? No field work at least."

"Most likely no... Where the damage is... It's gonna make my legs numb randomly. And we all know once we get a permanent injury... we're done."

"Oh God." She took your hand in hers, clutching it tight. "I'm gonna miss the hell out of working together when we did."

"It's not like she's going away forever, Rebecca. You'll still be doing desk work, right?" Jill looks optimistic for once, you stay quiet for the time being.

This could be your chance to finally get out of that cesspool of a career. Something you've thought about for years now.

"I think... I should retire." They both stare at you, mouth a gap. Out of all of you in the group, they never expected you to retire first. Especially with how much of a workaholic you were.

"That's... probably for the best." Rebecca squeezes your hand, trying to be supportive, but you can tell this choice is killing her.

"This won't hurt our friendships, right?" You look at Jill, she honestly just looks annoyed yet sad at the same time.

"Of course not."

You all know you will, in some way, hardly get to see each other, as is from everyone's busy schedule. But now you can make time for each other at least.

Hopefully.

"I think I should be getting back to Tweedledee and Tweedledum." Rebecca gives you a tight squeeze of the side looking over at Jill. "I'll be in the waiting room. If I find out anything I'll comeback."

She gives you one last rub of the back, leaving the hospital room with a quick goodbye. Once the door closes, Jill pulls the chair up next to your bed, closer, having a seat.

"Are we on speaking terms now? Or was it a truce for Rebecca's sake?"

"I'll talk." You sigh, earning a smug look from Jill.

"How is this time different?"

Of course, she asks that first. Jill's never one to beat around the bush.

What's the big deal? Just say it, she's gonna know eventually...

"I told him I love him." You say it, looking into her eyes as they blow wide.

Her jaw drops. A broken string of words came out. Unable to make a complete sentence, she shuts her mouth. Looking so lost and worried. She blinks, slumping back against the chair.

"No wonder you fought me so hard..."

Thinking back to her unlatching you from the doorway, the stairwell railing and even trying to grab a standing desk at one point. She got so annoyed with your actions when she was just trying to help.

Screaming, beating on her back weakly as she carried you all the way back to the radio room they set up where you eventually passed out due to exhaustion and woke up as the evac helicopter was landing at the hospital.

Looking back now, you feel like a child throwing a tantrum, but could you really blame yourself?

But it all made sense to her now as the guilt seeped in.

"God, if I had known-"

"Don't." She looks up at you, your eyes starting to fill with tears as you let out a broken whine, sniffling against your hospital gown collar as you wipe your eyes.

"But, I could have-"

"You did the right thing," You assert, cutting her off again. Her eyes still looking at the floor with guilt. "If he would have died on that table we both know I wouldn't have been leaving."

Jill just glances up at you, nodding and rubbing her temples.

"He said it back too."

"Oh- Oh my God." She smiles, looking almost relieved and excited. "He did? Leon Kennedy? The man known for being emotionally constipated?"

You laugh, continuing to wipe your eyes and nod with a shaky breath.

"And uhh..." You breathe out, taking a moment to gather your words. Jill leans forward, putting a hand on yours.

"Take your time."

"Thank you." You sniff again, looking back at her, the heat in your body rising as you remember the conversation again.

"He asked me if we could have had a family together. So I told him if he held on I'd give one to him. And he wanted that... With me. Me, Jill!" You smile. The tears starting to overflow again. "He wants me... I never thought he actually would."

"I know. Everyone thought one of you would die before saying something to each other." She jokes, getting you to chuckle somewhat.

"But I guess we were wrong. It was a near death."

"I don't want to lose him... I wanna give him what he wants, what we both want." Starting to cry harder, Jill gets out of the chair.

"He's gonna pull through. He has to. I'll kick his ass if he doesn't."

"What're you gonna beat up a man in a coma?" Your body jiggles as you laugh, smiling finally after what feels like an eternity.

"Maybe, maybe not."

Laying back against your pillows, you stare at the ceiling and wonder, what's going to happen in the next few days?

"I know I'm probably gonna be here for a little while," you started, lifting your head from the uncomfortable hospital pillow, "but do you think they'll let me see him?"

"Why wouldn't they?" She looks almost confused? What could stop you from seeing him?

"He's in a private room. Which means only people on his contact list can visit... His only person is our boss."

"Hun, don't worry, I'll fix it. Okay?" Your brows wrinkle looking at her.

How the hell are you gonna fix this?

"Okay..." You can't help but feel lost but you take Jill for her word when a knock comes at the door.

"Sorry to interrupt." A nurse steps in through the door. "But it's 7:45... Visiting hours are over in 15 minutes."

Jill nods to the nurse as she walks back out, closing the door.

"Listen." Jill speaks before you can say anything at all. "I'll fix it. So don't worry your pretty little head about anything, okay?"

You take a shaky breath, nodding as she leans in hugging you tightly.

"I'll try to come see you once you're back in DC. I can't promise anything but I can try." You nod again, just not feeling the need to say anything.

"I love you, remember that."

"Love you too." You wave as Jill exits the room, leaving you alone again.

Alone...

You'll be here alone. He'll be in his room alone.

Everyone's gonna go back to work tomorrow like normal, act like nothing happened whatsoever, and I'm stuck here... He's stuck here without anyone else.

He has no blood family.

We're his family...

The D.S.O. is his "family", if he can even bother to call them that...

You lay in your bed staring at the ceiling, closing your eyes, trying to let sleep consume you and your exhausted body.

....

"Miss?" Your eyes shoot open, gasping, you jump, looking around the dimly lit hospital room. The nurse from before next to your bedside jumps as you startled her as well.

I'm so out of it, I didn't even hear her come in...

"Yes?" Your voice sounds oddly normal again, minus the grogginess.

"Mr. Kennedy is out of surgery and recovering. He should be in his room again in about 10 minutes." You claw at the rail of your bed, eyes widen in surprise.

Already!?

"Is he okay?" The nurse nodded with a kind smile.

"The surgery went well. He's gonna recover just fine." The pure bliss that fills you is nothing compared to almost anything you've felt before.

"Is he awake?" The nurse's face falls with a shake of her head.

"I'm sorry, no..."

Of course not...

"Would you like me to get you a wheelchair to go see him once he's back in his room?"

They're offering...?

"Yes, yes, I would love that. Thank you."

The nurse nods, leaving your room. You look at the ceiling, smiling and feel a little bit better than you did before. Turning your head, you look at your bedside table, seeing your phone, the familiar green light of a message blinking from the black screen.

Picking it up, you turn the screen on by swiping your code through and look at the time.

12:35am. You fell asleep.

Swiping down, you see a series of texts from Jill.

'I swear this hospital is run by jackasses.' 7:57pm

'I'm talking to someone finally.' 8:13pm

'You know I hate doing it but I'm about to wave my badge around for you.' 8:42pm

'It's fixed. You're welcome <3' 9:07pm

"Jill Valentine, you're a God damn miracle worker." You squeeze your phone in excitement as you start replying.

'I owe you my life, call me later <3' 12:37am

You sit back in bed shutting your phone off and setting it back down on the table. You feel so nervous.

The 10 minutes drag by right as a nurse comes in with a wheelchair for you. Putting the railing down, she helps you out of bed and into the chair, putting your cast-covered leg up on the footrest.

Moving backwards out of the room, the bright florescent lights of the hallway blind you, a pained hiss slipping from your lips. The nurse pushing you chuckles as she wheels you to the elevator.

"Oh, I should inform you." You look up at her as she pushes the call button with a smile.

"We're gonna be moving you upstairs next to your fiance in the morning. Just thought you should know."

Fiance... Don't question Jill's methods.

Knowing what Jill did now, you just nod going along with it.

"Thank you, that is very helpful. I don't want to leave his side as much as possible..."

"Oh, understandable. You must be going through so much with him right now. I can only imagine."

You don't know half of it.

The elevator opens, you're pushed inside and the nurse pushes the floor button.

"So, how did you two meet?" The nurse asks. You look over your shoulder at her.

"Work. I was placed with him because I was experienced in our line of work. Apparently, every other person he was paired with couldn't handle him."

"And I'm guessing you could?" She chuckles, making you smile.

"Well, we've been together since November of 2013, so I'd assume yes." She laughs again.

"Who asked who out?" You froze, thinking of something quickly.

"Well, we kind of just told each other how we felt and it just happened." She nods slowly, the elevator dinging.

You're pulled back out of the elevator and start down a dim hallway. This floor looks a lot quieter and well kept.

The nurse pushes you past rooms, stopping in front of a corner room with the number 10 on it. Opening the door, she pushes you inside, seeing the curtain drawn around the bed in the room.

The nurse stops you at the bedside looking at you again.

"I'm just going to warn you. He looks like he's asleep, it's gonna be odd with everything he's hooked up to right now, but if he stays stable for a day most of it will come off."

You nod as she pulls the curtain back, revealing Leon.

Tubes... And wires. So many tubes and wires.

Your jaw drops and brows knit. His hands lay at his side and he looked like he was asleep.

You've seen what he looks like, knocked out, asleep, passed out. But this time it doesn't feel right...

Looking over him you see the bags under his eyes look lighter at least.

Feeding tube through the nose, heart monitor, IV, a ventilator and a stomach compression band across his abdomen.

He looks so vulnerable... Not at all like Leon, you know.

Taking his hand in yours, you just stare at him, letting the sight of him sink in.

At least he's alive.

"So, the ventilator should come off once the anesthetic is out of his system. It's just a precaution." The nurse comments, walking over to his bedside table, picking up a small stack of pamphlets and handing them to you.

"Thank you..." You look at them reading the titles quickly.

How to help wake up a coma patient.

My partner is in a coma.

Coma Recovery and what to expect.

"I know it's a lot right now." The nurse started, putting a hand on your shoulder. "But with his health and how well it was before hand, I'm sure he'll be up and be a pain in no time."

You smile at her, feeling thankful for such a wonderful angel of a woman at nearly 2am.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"Of course, I'll leave you to it. Feel free to talk to him, every little bit helps. And when you're ready to rock and roll out of here, just hit the call button and I'll come get you."

The nurse leaves with her final words, shutting the door as you turn looking at Leon.

Leaning towards him, you take a deep breath in.

"Hey Dumbass..." You stare at him, interlocking your fingers with his limp ones.

"This is the part where you're supposed to say 'Hey Shithead' back to me... Like normal, y'know?" Patting the back of his hand, you nod.

"Yeah I know, this hospital room..." You look around whistling softly as you look back at his face. "You'd be bitching about how over the top it is for a hospital room... I just know you would."

Sitting back in the wheelchair, you hold his hand tighter, leaning into it.

"You... I hope you can hear me. Cause I just..."

You look up at his face, feeling too uncomfortable. It's hard to almost look at him.

So many tubes and wires! What would he do to break the tension right now?

"Wanna hear a joke about paper?"

He doesn't respond.

"Never mind. It's tearable..."

Fighting the urge to look away, you lean closer again. Just needing to get what you need to say out.

"Look, I know I'm not mushy or soft usually but..."

You swallow your fears by gripping his hand for dear life.

"I need you."

He doesn't respond.

This starts to feel hopeless, but you remember.

At least he's still alive...

[juvenillia]

~ if you let me ~ John Price x fem!reader [fluff fic]

summary: John found himself in a completely new situation and confesses his needs without any doubts.

a/n: Just a cute little one shot between the angst/hurt we're going through with Death of Peace of Mind atm, I hope you enjoy. Thanks to my darling @ghostslillady who brought me the inspo for that one <3

cw/tw: suggestive content, slight smut (but only the slightes fr), jealousy, soft lover boy Price, fluff, confession, start of a relationship, petnames

worcount: 2.8k

》 Read on AO3 《 》Master Post《

This was all so new to John. He was used to hook up with a nice and pretty girl while on leave. Always searching company in a different bar, so he wouldn’t see the same girl again. Sharing some wonderful hours, drinking, laughing, and chasing their release. But this situation was indeed new to him. A one-night stand turned into two, and then he didn’t dare to leave in the morning and rather decided to wake you up with his mouth on you, the urge to taste you again was too carnal. What lead into a shared breakfast, what lead into traded numbers, before he left late on the third evening with a deep kiss, not daring to let go of you, but he had to go back to his duty.

This fateful one-night stand now turned into a friends-with-benefits kind of situation and is going on for merely six months. As soon as he had some time on base he’d call you, you’d send him pictures of things that reminded you of him. He’d send some worn shirts via mail and some flowers from time to time. You longed for him to get some time on leave again and feel his body wrapped around yours again. Late at night there was always a delicate picture of you in nothing more than a black lace pantie and one of his shirts attached to a short message. “Thinking only of you, Captain.”, which lead him to lock his office and call you instantly. You were so desperate for each other and still you respected the boundaries and duties of another.

It was nice and easy, all so casual. Both of you enjoyed the company and affection with no strings attached. Of course, no one of you saw someone else, to occupied with each other, but you didn’t label it yet. You didn’t have the time to have the deep talk right now. You just enjoyed each other, but all the time things weren’t meant to stay that easy. That’s how you found yourself seated surrounded with your two sisters. Once a month they would give their husbands the kids, so that the three of you could grab a coffee and catch up with out the screaming and running around from your nephews and nieces. You laughed and shared the latest gossip.

That’s when you received another message from John. Nothing more than a picture of a flower was seen on screen, but it was your favorite one. A smile tugged at your lips.  “Sweetheart…”, Isabelle, your older sister, said in a teasing tone. Your eyes darted back to hair while you put your phone back to the table, screen facing the wood. “Sorry. Where were we?”, you smiled and Isabelle and Caroline, your younger sister, exchanged knowing glances. “Real talk now. Who is he?”, Caro started. “Or she. We don’t discriminate.”, Isabelle added. You only blinked at them in confusing. “Excuse me?” – “Hun, you’re smiling like a madman at your screen. I didn’t even know you could smile like that.”, Isabelle said with a sweet voice while taking your hand and squeezing it. You blinked rapidly, the smile never falling out of your face.

“Since when you know?”, you didn’t even try to convince them otherwise. You knew they wouldn’t back down and you couldn’t deny that he indeed gave you butterflies with the smallest things. All the little messages, the little gifts. All so thoughtful, and somehow romantical. Something no one of your earlier partners managed to do. Not to mention how he worshipped you behind closed doors. “For five months. Especially when Mike saw you getting way too much take-out that one night, when you said you couldn’t look after Jim and Jill.”, Isabelle explained. You only laughed at this. Jim and Jill, your nephew and niece, twins, loved you like their own mother. Anytime Isabelle and Mike needed some couple time they would drop them at your place. “His name is John…”, both of your sisters instantly started gushing but you stopped them. “Please. It’s nothing official. Alright? We’re not even dating…” – “YET!”, Caro cried out excited. So, you spent the whole afternoon to talk about your not-boyfriend John Price, who was the sweetest guy ever. And you knew you had fallen for him. Since the moment he came back after your one night stand. A bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand, and some of the best pizza your town had to offer in the other. Two things you mentioned only the slightest as he invited you for a drink. His usual manner, but with you it was different. He memorized every little detail you told him that night and would keep going with it. You told your sisters everything about him and they were nearly as excited to get to know to him, as you were excited to see him again. After some time, you three bid your goodbyes, after you got once more reminded that the annual family gathering would be this weekend.

You went after your normal daily routines. Working your nine to five, doing the household, running errands and the usual stuff an adult had to do. There was a bitter radio silence with John, because of his deployment. It somehow made you feel uneasy, but you knew he’d be safe. Friday came and you overslept. That’s how you forgot your phone at home, and even your prepared lunch. Not even able to make your bed, you left your apartment in completely hurry. To your fortune you could leave work earlier that day. That way you could pick up a quick meal, just a small smoothie, on your way to the boutique where you picked a dress for the family gathering. When you got back to your apartment, something felt off. You couldn’t remember that you left the light on. Maybe you forgot about it when you rushed out this morning, but still something felt weird. Even weirder when you smelled something familiar. As you walked into the living room you cried out, when suddenly two strong and calloused hands got grip of your hips and pulled you around. “Surprise.”, a familiar deep voice was heard. You just looked at the beaming face of John and before you could even answer your hands pulled him down into a deep kiss. His hands squeezing your hips, while his lips turned into a bright smile. His beard tingling over your skin and both of you started giggling like little children. “That’s not what I left you the spare key for. It’s for emergencies, John.”, you said while he peppered kisses along your jawline, down your neck, while your head fell slightly back. “Love, that was an emergency. Needed to see you.”, he said between the kisses. His voice mixed with the little nibs sent shivers down your spine. “I’ve missed you.”, you breathed out and he hummed in approval. “Missed my girl as well.”, he said, while lifting you up like you weighted nothing. Your legs immediately wrapped around his torso while he carried you over to the couch. His mouth never stopping to kiss down your neck and suck at your soft skin.

“John.”, you moaned, and he lowered you beneath him. “I know. I know.”, he kept sucking onto your neck, and you could feel the sensation burning in your stomach. Just then you got reminded of something different. You gently pushed his shoulders away from you and he instantly stopped. Concern in his eyes, while he looked down at you. “What’s wrong, love?”, he pushed himself up to give you more space. You smiled at him and kissed him once more. Just quick before sitting up, and he sat next to you. “Please, don’t think I’m not happy to see you…but…”, his brows arched, and his hand found yours. “But?” – “It’s not the best time right now… my weekend is quite tight scheduled.” That’s when he looked confused at you. John knew that you had your own life, and that you shouldn’t need to drop every appointment just because he had some time off, some time he wanted to spend with you. Still, his heart hurt when he asked the following question. “Don’t tell me, you’re seeing someone else.” You only blinked in disbelief at him, instantly placing your hands on his cheeks. “No. No don’t think that. I could never.”, you assured him, and you could see how the panic vanished out of his eyes.

“Good. That’s good.”, he smiled relieved, while taking one of your hands in his and kissed every knuckle after another. “I can just wait here for you. It’s only fair when you’ve to wait all the time for me.”, his words brushed over your skin, and it made your heart jump. He was so understanding, so sweet. “But I won’t be coming home. I’m gonna spend the weekend with my family at the land house of my grandparents.”, you said quietly. A little ‘oh’ formed on his lips and he fell in his thoughts. And so did you. Too scared to ask him to come with you, but god you wanted to call your family to screw them. You wanted to spend the time with him. He wasn’t your boyfriend; you couldn’t just bring him with you. All the question he would have to endure. He slightly squeezed your hand. “What…what when I come with you?”, you immediately looked up at him. Your eyes filled with sheer surprise. “You sure you want that?”  He laughed at your concern and pulled you into his lap. Tracing lazy circles on your back. “It would make you happy, wouldn’t it?”, he said looking up to you and you nodded slowly. A reserved smile forming on his lips. You pressed your forehead against his and breathed a small “Thank you.” out, before you went to the bedroom to get your phone and call Isabelle. To make sure, it would be manageable.

Just like that John found himself surrounded by screaming little children, nonstop talking grandparents and sisters who couldn’t stop tugging at his elbow asking him the weirdest and filthiest questions. The annual Christmas evening with his team was easier than that. But anytime his eyes met your figure, just appreciating the view, glancing over the perfect fitted dress in the same dark royal green he adored on you so much, the same color all the shirts he sent you were. Not to mention the wonderful cut out cleavage that already made him drool when he first saw it on you this morning. And anytime he would meet your glance, a smile tugging at your lips, and he knew it was worth going through this.

“So how long are you dating?”, Caro asked him with a smile on her lips. “For about six months.”, he answered not even looking at her. His eyes were pinned on the way you playfully danced with you little nephew on your arms right now. He adored the view too much. The sheer thought that someday it might be your – his - own child you’d sway in your arms. It made his heart jump. “Interesting.”, she only said smug. That’s what caught his attention more. “Pardon?” – “Well, my sweetheart of sister said, that you aren’t dating. Just testing waters and stuff.”, she rose a brow playfully at him and he laughed. “Of course.”, he shook his head. He never told you, but he was obsessed with the thought of calling you his, and his alone. You awakened a longing in him, that he thought he never had. Growing from sexual pleasure to pure intimacy. Into something even more. You became the reason for him to return. You became the home to his soul. “Something else she told you?”, he asked sipping on his drink. “Don’t wanna push your ego, but that you’re the best one she ever had.” A wide smile tugging at his lips, not even his neat beard could cover now. “That’s reciprocity.” His smile even grew wider when you walked over to them. Jim on your arms, the boy clinging onto the hem of your dress. Isabelle, next to you with Jill in her arms.

John didn’t wait any second to sling an arm around your waist, not disturbing the peace of the little boy, but pulling you close in his side. A slight blush crawling around your cheeks. It was the first time he actual showed some PDA at the festive. It made your stomach flutter. “What were you talking about.”, Isabelle asked bluntly, while handing her daughter to Caro. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”, John smiled, and you rose a brow at him. Not believing a word he said.

Just then your mum, and grandma also joined the circle you just had formed. That’s when Jim once more confused you for his own mother. Tugging at one of your breasts and it made you giggle. You were used to the little boy trying to get your attention that way. Usually, his mother would feed him when he started that little act, already trying to tear the hem of your dress a bit downward. Something so innocent and natural for the little boy, wat didn’t go unnoticed by John. He couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous. It wasn’t your kid; he shouldn’t behave like that around someone else than his own mother. So, he leaned down to the kid. "That one belongs to me kid, go back to your own mum's", and whispered to him. It made your giggle stop immediately and your cheeks were now burning from heat. When you hoped nobody heard it, you were wrong. Isabelle and Caroline just laughed wholehearted, while Isabelle took the boy out of your arms. Your hands immediately covering your face, while he pulled you closer in his side. Leaning down to your ear and whispering really low this time. “Am I wrong though, love?”, he kissed your cheek before leaning back again. “What did he just said?”, your grandma asked and now your mom joined the laughter of your sisters. “Nothing.” You cried out louder than necessary. John placed another peck onto the crown of your head, the winning smile never leaving his face. “John, move over here!.”, Mike yelled over, and he walked satisfied over to the patio, where Mike, your father and Caroline’s husband, Maxime where seated. Your mom just pushed her elbow in his side, “He’s a good catch. Hold on to him.”, you looked over, as he gladly accepted a cigar from your father. The blush was still on your cheeks, but a genuine smile was plastered on your lips. She was right.

It was quite late when John and you found a moment of peace with each other. Sitting on the patio, while your grandma was already deep asleep. Isabella and Mike already left with their children and Caro and Maxime dancing slowly a bit away, while your parents watched them, cuddled up at the swing hammock. John had his arms tightly wrapped around you, while you laid against his chest. Head leaning against him, his resting on top of yours, while you just enjoyed each other’s company. He then broke the silence, some thoughts he had to get out of his system. “Sorry, if I stepped a line.”, he breathed out calm, letting his hands stroke gently over your arms. “Don’t worry. Just seems like you’re stuck with the family already. Need to marry me now. No backing out from that one.”, you said jokingly. Remembering how much all your family already adored him. He indeed was the first guy you ever brought to such a gathering. He kissed the crown of your head. “If you let me, love.”, he said calm. There was no joking undertone, no smug grin on his face. That’s when you turned to face him, an utterly shocked expression on your face. It only made him giggle, before his pressed another kiss onto your forehead. A smile on his face. “Maybe we should start smaller than that, huh?” Your face relaxed when he let his lips brush over yours once more. Sensual, with all the love he had in him. “But I’m gonna make you mine. Be sure about that.”, he said while leaning his forehead against yours. “I’m already yours, John.” A bright smile never leaving your lips as you nodded, a smile he shared with no hesitation. Who said it wouldn’t be easy after all? With him at your side, everything became better and somehow easier.

[taylor-swift-imagines]

Home from tour

Pairing: Taylor Swift x reader (female)

Warnings: None

Requested: @manyfandomsfanvergent

Request:

Where reader helps Taylor relax after the tour one night

***

There was nothing else in the entire world that Taylor missed more than you.

Taylor had just begun her Eras Tour and although you were happy for her, you saying farewell to one other was tougher than some may think so. It was hard on both of you, Taylor was the best thing to ever have happen to you, she was all you ever wanted.

You couldn’t wait until your girlfriend to come home and some several occasions, you thought that maybe of surprising her while she was still on your, but you, believe it or not, got into a heap of trouble doing so last time and what made the situation more confusing was this surprise show up was taking place during the week of her birthday. It was honestly dreadful, you almost got sent back home by her manager, but Taylor managed to convince him into letting you stay since there wasn’t much time left of the tour before turning back to scold you, asking you not to do this again. As discouraging as that was, you agreed with Taylor whole having the time of your lives together.

While Taylor was away, Selena Gomez was often around to keep you company and sure enough, there was only two weeks left of Taylor’s tour, before she finally got to come home to you. As a warm welcoming, you had wanted to put something special together for Taylor and Selena was more than happy to help out on arrangements. The next two weeks drug on until one day, you woke up the morning you’ve been waiting for, the she comes home and you don’t ever remember feeling so delighted. One of the many things you and Taylor enjoyed doing together was to go on car rides during the night, as car rides were calming enough to help you both sleep easily. But in your mind, it all depended on what Taylor wanted to do as soon as she got home. While Taylor was away, you would watch her performances from the Eras Tour on YouTube sent to you by fans or just in your own. Out of all of them, your all time favorite performance was Enchanted as that had always been your favorite song Taylor has ever written.

You don’t know why you loved it so much, but maybe it was because of the way her eyes looked at you whenever she would sing it for you and to you. Nothing can break your love apart, you would love each other always. Once you the evening had come, Andrea Swift stopped by to pick you up along with Selena Gomez to welcome your girlfriend home after several weeks of not being together. It was a very touching reunion as you both had missed each other so much, and are happy to be back in each other’s arms. The car ride home felt like an eternity, Selena drove back with Andrea in the passenger’s seat, you and Taylor were in the back holding hands and trying to cuddle together.

“Not yet, ladies.” Selena would tease.

Both you and Taylor had laughed before looking at each other, smiling widely before sharing a kiss just before pulling away to discuss what was to happen once you arrive home. It was all up to Taylor and you made sure that she knew that, all she wanted to do was to be with you and that’s what made that evening so special.

After being dropped off at home, Taylor gently takes your hand in hers and walks up to the front door, unlocks it, and pulls you inside. With it now just being the two of you alone, you both had settled on a few movies in your shared bedroom with snacks and cuddles, stories from tour included. The first movie you had decided to watch was “The Secret Life Of Walter Mitty” and then “Jack and Jill” featuring Adam Sandler. In the midst of the second film, you noticed Taylor seemed to be a little tense, like you could see tension in her back and she was leaning forward as if it was hurting her.

Of course, that worried you and you couldn’t resist to not ask her of her well-being. Placing a soft touch on her shoulder, she turns to see you and smiles.

“Are you okay, Taylor?”

“Of course, why do you ask?”

“Well… you seem to have a little tension in your back. Does it hurt?”

“A little. Mostly just stiff.” She admitted.

“Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

Watching as you head for the master bathroom, she slightly lifts her shirt, exposing her naked back as you return with icy hot cream/ointment to place it on there.

As you do, it was not possible for you to hold back a loving smile, knowing this was helping her to relax. Taylor had a long tour and she deserved every free time they would give her, such as now. After placing it on her back, you screw the cap back on and place it on the nightstand beside you as you let Taylor fall back and spoon you to her side while watching the movie.

However, neither of you don’t remember much of it as you fell asleep in the middle of it. The next morning, Taylor seemed much more relaxed.

You felt very pleased when you noticed how much more relaxed she seemed.

God, she was your world.

***

@taylor-swift-imagines

Requests: Open

[lostinwoso]

The Challenge (Merle Frohms x Reader)

request - 1k words

“I thought we could go out next week? We can watch the new movie you were waiting for and then grab some dinner?”, Merle asks you as she takes a seat on the table while you are still fixing some of the tape you just used on one of her teammates. 

You are one of the physios for Wolfsburg and grew rather quickly close to the goalkeeper after her return to Wolfsburg at the beginning of the season. In fact, it only took the German player only 2 months before she decided to ask you out.

From that moment on more and more dates followed whenever you both could find some time in her busy schedule as a professional football player. 

“Hmm, I don’t know.”, you reply, shrugging your shoulders as you place the tape roll back into the drawer it belongs. Turning around, you can see an annoyed expression on her face, making you smirk.

She knows what's about to happen, you sometimes like the idea of challenging her for a date, the entire hard to get act is one of your favorite things to annoy her with. But so far, Merle managed to beat every single one you sent her way, and she can’t deny that those dates that followed always felt a bit better than all the other ones. So she is keen on once again mastering whatever you send her way.

“Alright, what's the condition this time?”.

You think about it for a moment before a thought appears in your head, “You know I love the club, so I would kind of enjoy it if we make it through the semis next week and into the Champions League Final, and then you can get your date after Eindhoven.”, you casually reply, leaning back into your seat.

“What? All the other challenges were built on little things, and now you want me to get us to the final, so I can get that date?”, the goalie asks you in complete disbelief.

“Yup.”

You notice the look on Merle's face, it’s the same one she always has on when she is in deep thought about something. You decide to give her a moment to think about your words.

“Okay.”.

“Okay?”, you were surprised by her simple reply, having thought that the goalie would protest some more about your words, you knew that the challenge isn’t necessarily fair because it’s not as if Merle can do everything alone on the field to decide the game, but apparently she doesn’t seem to mind that much. 

“Yes, but I expect it to be one of the best dates we could ever have after that.”, she answers, making her way past you to get out on the field to training.

“If we win this game, I will make sure that it’s going to be THE best date ever.”, you say to her, sending her one last wink before she disappears out of your sight. 

The next few training sessions you could tell how concentrated the goalie was, making endless safes in training as if it’s the final already. Your challenge clearly has lit up some fire in her to make sure she would be as ready as possible for the game.

But as already feared, the game would be everything else but easy for your team. The anxiety you feel from watching from your seat on the bench is almost unbearable. Arsenal pretty much started where they left off in the first leg game and that is visible after they already managed to score a goal in the 11th minute. Every minute with Arsenal staying ahead made your stomach hurt a little more, so safe to say that the relief you felt when Jill scored was very welcomed. Although you couldn’t help the chuckle leaving your lips as Jill once again scores against her former club in a Champions League game. 

And when Popp herself scores an amazing header you almost feel on top of the world, but the game wasn’t over yet and that harsh realization came when Arsenal managed to tie the score, thanks to Beattie. So when the final whistle blows, announcing that it would go into overtime, you weren’t sure if you could handle the anxiety much longer.

As just 7 minutes later, Arsenal got the opportunity to go in lead served on a golden plate, you were sure that this could be it, but thanks to the badly placed shot and Merle her quick reaction, everything was still open for either team. Also, saving a quick reminder to yourself to praise the goalie for that safe after the game. 

Checking the watch, you notice that the overtime will be done soon, meaning that the game would most likely go into penalties. That thought quickly flies out of your head though as Jule suddenly wins the ball back and passes it perfectly into Bremers run, scoring the deciding goal of the night. “JAAAAAAAAAA”, you and the entire team jumped up and started to yell in excitement. 

When the final whistle is finally blown, you all make your way onto the field to celebrate together. You, though, make your way immediately over to the goal where Merle was shrugging her gloves off, “You did it!”, you yell out as you pull her into a tight hug. 

Merle laughs at your excitement but returns your hug just as tight, “Well I couldn’t pass up the Chance to go on the best date ever, now could I?”.

“I guess not.”, you chuckle before starting to praise her for the safe from Hurtig her shot on goal. You and Merle are in your own little bubble having a small recap about the game until Lena comes over to tell you that it’s time to go over to the fans.

“Go over there.”, you tell Merle when you notice her being a little hesitant.

“But I want to spend some more time with you.”.

“We can still spend enough time together later, I promise.”, you promise her, pushing her lightly away from you and towards the direction of her teammates.

“I hold you to that!”, she yells as she jogs over to where they are. 

You simply send her a thumbs up as your mind already wanders off to planning that date she once again managed to win.