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halfvalid · 8 months

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Hiii! If its no trouble could I have a zoro and reader fic with the one bed trope? The others know about their crushes on each other so they force each other to share a room? Anyway they end up cuddling and its all cute (the others will tease them forever about it lol)?? Thankss

intertwined ribbons

ABOUT

alternate title: opla zoro makes my hated tropes less hated

rating: general audiences/teen & up

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!nami | live action!straw hats ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

description: unbeknownst to you, your crush on zoro is reciprocated. the rest of the straw hats take it upon themselves to get you together by locking you in his bedroom overnight.

tags: strawhat!reader, only one bed, forced proximity, confessions, no use of 'y/n', nami is a true instigator, cuddling, soft zoro, humor

author's note: thank you so much for the request and i hope it meets your expectations!! fun fact i actually used to hate the 'only one bed' trope, so i decided to challenge myself in writing this. and i think it's one of my fave tropes now lol

(you have an inner spirit that helps you make decisions except it’s just nami.)

“I just think that maybe you should stop avoiding him,” Nami started. You bit your cheek, ignoring her as you tied up the last of the ship’s rigging into a careful knot. Nami had been going on for the past few minutes, and you’d zoned out exactly three seconds in, when the name Zoro had first been spoken. Because of this reason you weren’t really listening, so you blinked up at her in confusion.

“Sorry? Who am I avoiding?”

“You’re impossible,” Nami grumbled. “And you know exactly who I’m talking about.” Which, well, fair. The math added up: you heard the word Zoro, you stopped listening, Nami continued talking until she realized you’d stopped listening. “Especially since you’re, you know—” she gave you another look, eyes rolling over to stare dead into yours— “Avoiding him.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. Nami sighed, leaning over to tug the rope dangling from your hands out of your grip. You tried to reach back for it, but she didn’t let you. “Hey!”

“Yes, you do. Face it. You’re avoiding Zoro.”

You made a face at her. “I think there are ropes on the foredeck that I can attend to.”

“No, there aren’t,” Nami answered. “Now stop changing the subject. There’s this wild concept called communication. It works wonders.”

“Says you,” you muttered, though your arms crossed defensively across your chest. You noticed the action after a split-second and unwound your arms with a scowl. “Look, I just don’t see the point. And I haven’t been avoiding him.”

You were, in fact, avoiding him. Ever since that dreadful night a week ago when Nami had gotten you tipsy and stuck her hand in your chest cavity fishing for secrets, you’d been avoiding him. The other girl was ridiculously good at prying truths out of you, and during the conversation, you’d accidentally spilled your crush on the Straw Hat crew’s resident swordsman.

You’d managed to keep the secret for the months you’d been together, wherein the unfortunate feelings had developed, and you should’ve figured once somebody knew they wouldn’t leave you alone about it. Because Nami refused to talk about literally anything else. You’d expected this sort of behavior from Luffy, or maybe Sanji, but Nami? The world was more amatonormative than you'd thought.

Nami cast you a look. “You’re blushing.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. What’s the harm in talking to him?” Nami demanded, one hand on her hip as she stared you down. You gaped at her.

“Um, literally everything? One, Zoro can’t talk about feelings or emotions for shit, so when he rejects me it’ll be in the most excruciating, offhand manner that will probably leave me at the bottom of a barrel of rum, two, after being rejected I’m going to have to leave the Straw Hats, three—”

Nami rolled her eyes, looking increasingly fed up with you. “For someone so obsessed with not telling our resident grass-headed swordsman about your feelings for him, you’re talking rather loudly.”

You shut up, snapping your jaw closed with a glare. “Stop it,” you hissed.

“Besides, who knows if he actually will reject you?” Nami turned to work on the next section of rigging, glancing over her shoulder at you. “You’re catastrophizing.”

“I’m being realistic,” you snapped. “Okay, fine. He reciprocates my feelings. Then what? We date, we break up because all relationships eventually end, it becomes awkward, and—voila—I’ll have to leave the Straw Hats anyway. It’s a bad idea all around.”

Nami just let out a huff of breath, the exhale laced with irritation. “Catastrophizing,” she repeated.

“I am not—”

“Sure. Go help Sanji with dinner.”

You gave her an exasperated look, but at this point Nami wasn’t paying attention anymore, so you stormed off into the underbelly of the Going Merry. Speak of the devil, apparently, because once you entered the kitchen you spotted not only Sanji occupying it but also Zoro. He was lounging at the table, swords strapped to his waist and a bottle of something he was nursing in hand.

You averted your gaze from him, head running a million miles a minute. Had he noticed you’d been avoiding him? You’d tried to be furtive about it, but if Nami had noticed, maybe—

“Well, hello there,” Sanji called from where he was in the midst of dinner preparations. “Come to help?”

“Nami sent me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think she’s appointed herself queen of the Going Merry.”

“Oh, she did that long ago,” Sanji chided. “You’re only noticing it now. Pick up a knife, then. I’d like some help dicing the carrots.”

You stiffly moved over to the counter, ignoring Zoro as you went even as you felt his gaze following your figure. You picked up the first knife you found, positioning yourself in front of the cutting board to start dicing the vegetables already laid out for you. Abruptly, Zoro stood up.

“Heading out,” he muttered. “Call me when dinner’s ready.”

With that, he left the room, leaving you and Sanji to exchange looks. “He’s moody today,” you said.

“Probably ‘cause you’ve been avoiding him.”

You felt the familiar pinprick of a blush starting to warm your cheeks. “You too?”

“You’re rather obvious about it,” Sanji said with a raised eyebrow. “But enough of that.” Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem to question why. There was no way Nami had told him, so you were left confused, but no matter. The point was that for now, you were safe.

The hour dipped to evening, and soon the moon was glowing in the sky, a shining beacon of white amidst the ocean of stars and shimmering sea. You suppressed a yawn, busing the dishes from dinner as the rest of the crew got up from their respective seats to dissolve to their own rooms. Zoro had already retired for the night—if you were avoiding him, he seemed to be doing the exact same—so at least you didn’t have that to worry about.

“Ah, wait,” Nami said, after you’d finished washing the dishes and was ready to head out. “Zoro wants to talk to you.”

You jolted, glancing nervously around you before grabbing her wrist. “What did you do?” you hissed. Nami just laughed.

“Calm down. I didn’t do anything.” Off your glare, she relented. “I promise. And I swear it’s not about feelings or emotions or whatever. Even though it’s obvious you’re avoiding him, you know Zoro wouldn’t say anything.”

You were still suspicious, but you dropped your hand. “What, then?”

Nami shrugged, tilting her chin up just so. “I guess you’re going to have to find out.”

“I don’t trust you,” you muttered. There was that look in her eye, the one she got whenever she was thinking of something truly devious. Still, you couldn’t figure out what she was up to, so— “Fine, I’ll go to his room. Walk me.”

Nami rolled her eyes, but she fell into step with you as you made your way across the ship. “You should bring it up to him, you know,” she started, but silenced after your sharp glare. “Okay, okay. I get the point. I’ll stop bothering you about it.”

You stopped by the mouth of Zoro’s door. “Wait, really?”

“Yes, really,” Nami said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossing over her chest. “I’ll leave you alone about Mr. Prince Charming over there. Knock.”

“You can't call him Mr. Prince Charming,” you said, though you did knock. “Prince’ is already a title.”

Nami gave you a look. “Okay, smart-ass.”

The door creaked open before you could give your response, and you turned, heart pounding in your throat as Zoro stared down at you. His arm was propped up by the open doorway, the other hand still clutching the doorknob. “What.”

“Um, Nami said that you wanted to talk—” you swiveled your head towards the other girl, but before you could finish your sentence, Nami was raising up your arm and unceremoniously shoving you into the room.

You shrieked in surprise as you fell into Zoro’s figure, stumbling into him and causing him to lose his balance. Your head shot up in offense, only to see the gleam of a golden padlock in Nami’s hand before she was yanking the door closed.

A dull click echoed through the room. The only thing you could hear for a few seconds was your own heavy breathing and the sound of Zoro gathering himself.

“Did she just—” You gaped at the closed door. “Lock us in?”

Zoro swiftly pushed past you, jiggling the doorknob for a few moments before giving up. Sure enough, Nami had sealed it with the padlock from the outside, so there was no possibility of either of you getting out of the room. You could vaguely hear sounds from the outside—dull thuds and scrapes—and watched as Zoro started banging on the door.

“Nami,” he called, voice dangerously low. “Let us out.”

“Sorry, Zoro!” Your jaw practically unhinged from your skull once you heard your captain’s familiar voice, all bright and cheerful like always. “We’re putting barrels in front of the door, so don’t even try breaking it down. Have a good night!”

“Luffy? What are you—” Zoro’s knocking quickened in pace, his voice getting increasingly louder. There was no response from outside, though you could hear snickers that sounded suspiciously like Usopp. What was going on?

You kicked into action, joining Zoro by the door and trying the door handle again. “Nami!” you yelled.

Nami’s soft laugh came from outside. “Sorry!” she called. “We’ll let you out in the morning.”

You gaped at the door, only aware of Zoro’s gaze sliding down to you as you dropped your hand from the doorknob. There were some more tigers from outside, and then receding footsteps. Zoro tried knocking one last time, but it was evident that the rest of the crew had all but abandoned you.

“Okay,” Zoro muttered, moving away from the door. “I need a drink.”

You watched him move across the room, picking up a glass from his bedside table that was only slightly full. He knocked it back in one swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “Um, what now?” you asked uncomfortably.

“Nothing. Whatever,” Zoro said, turning to glance over at you. After a moment’s thought, you noticed that he refused to look you in his eye—his gaze was firmly trained at a spot beside your head. He turned away, stripping off his sword scabbard and setting them on the floor.

You glanced around nervously. Zoro’s room wasn’t that different from yours, really—less decorated, but the constitution was the same. There was the bed, a wardrobe, a desk with various paraphernalia across it, and a little couch in the corner too. “You can look through the closet for something to sleep in. I’ll take the chair.”

The words didn’t register at first, and you were left standing there, staring as Zoro kicked off his shoes and assumedly started getting ready to sleep. “Um, what?”

Zoro glanced over his shoulder. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye. “They’re not letting us out until morning,” he said slowly. “You can take the bed. Might as well sleep.”

“It’s your room,” you started, crossing your arms. “I can sleep in the chair. I’m smaller than you, anyway, so I’ll fit it better.”

Zoro regarded you with such a reproachful look you almost wanted to laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Change.” With that, he turned around, leaving no room for discussion. You stared at him for a second before giving up, moving to his wardrobe and opening it up to search for something to sleep in.

“So, uh, any ideas on why they stuck us in here?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. Whatever Nami thought locking you in a room with Zoro would achieve, you were stubbornly not going to let her be right. God, you were so going to kill her once you got out of there.

“Nope,” Zoro said, with such a degree of finality you figured it wouldn’t be safe to question him further. “They’re just stupid.”

“I mean, I feel like they would have a motive?” You rifled through his clothes, trying very hard to detach them from their owner. Wearing Zoro’s clothes was not something you wanted your mind to linger upon. Eventually you found a shirt of his that would undoubtedly be oversized on you, and you hastily changed into it, satisfied to find it draped well to your knees so you weren’t exposing too much skin.

You stole a glance over your shoulder at Zoro, only to catch him in the action of peeling his shirt off. The stretch of the muscles in his back gleamed in the dim light of the room, and you tore your gaze away, heat rushing to your face. “Um. Anything?”

“Nope,” Zoro repeated. Carefully, you closed the wardrobe door, lingering in one spot with your hands clenched together. Once you heard him start moving again, you deemed it safe enough to turn towards the rest of the room. He’d changed into a loose tan shirt, and had settled back into the chair.

“I said I’d take the chair,” you told him hotly.

“Yeah, and I said no,” Zoro said, tone dismissive. He had his eyes closed, and you stared at him in disbelief.

“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” you said, and then, just to emphasize your point, plopped down on the floor. Zoro cracked an eye open and stared down at you. He sighed.

“Get up. Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not being stupid,” you said. “It’s your room. It’s your bed. You will sleep on it. If you’re not giving me the chair, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Zoro let out a long sigh, closing both his eyes as if he was contemplating all his life decisions. “I’m not sleeping in the bed, you know,” he said.

“Okay, so neither of us do.”

Zoro’s brows creased, and he opened his eyes to glare down at you. “Seriously? At least take the chair, then. I’ll sleep on the flo—”

You gave him a sharp look. “Zoro.”

“This conversation isn’t getting anywhere,” Zoro muttered, and finally got up from his chair. You glanced up at him expectantly. “What can I do to convince you to take the bed?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“We can work out a compromise,” Zoro said with a sigh. “I want you on it, and you want me on it, and neither of us are willing to take it ourselves.” He paused, brow creasing as an idea seemed to form in his head—one he didn’t seem to be a giant fan of, but an idea nonetheless. “How about.” His lips pursed, before he parted them again to finish his sentence. “How about we both take it?”

It felt like someone had hit you square in the chest, air kicking out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath. Your windpipe was all raw, and you had to fight to tear any words out from your throat. “Ex—excuse me?”

“It’s big enough,” Zoro said stiffly, though his hands were clenched at his sides. “I can take one side and you can take the other. Since you’re so dead-set on me sleeping on it.”

“I—” You cut yourself off, suddenly far too aware of Zoro’s eyes fixed on you. Watching your every move. Oh, Nami was in for it now. How were you supposed to survive sleeping in the same bed as—you didn’t even want to think about it.

“Well?” Zoro prompted.

“Fine,” you agreed hastily, ducking your head lest Zoro catch any of the flush that was undoubtedly rising steadily up your cheeks. It was bad enough you were stuck in his bedroom and wearing his clothes—but this had quickly become your own personal circle of hell. “Good enough for me.”

“Finally.” With that, Zoro climbed into bed, settling himself on the very edge of its side. Your throat had gone dry, and you stared at him for another second before hurriedly turning away to flick the lights off. You approached the other side of the bed with an extreme lack of enthusiasm, staring at the empty sheets like they were cackling up at you. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Eventually you slid into the bed, busying yourself with arranging the blankets around your figure. Zoro’s breaths were steady and deep from beside you. You didn’t know what to do for a second, but then Zoro’s voice was cutting through the darkness. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You jolted, then suppressed your sigh. “Have not.”

“Yes, you have, and everyone knows it, and you’re not very subtle,” Zoro said, sounding almost bored as he rattled off the words. “Why.”

“I haven’t—”

“Don’t.”

You ran your tongue along your teeth, sucking at the valleys between them in annoyance. “It’s not important.”

Zoro paused before speaking, like he was mulling over asking the question. “Did I do something?”

“What? No.” You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see. The sound did well enough to indicate the action to him, though—he scoffed, a low murmur from his chest that buzzed through your nerves. “I don’t want to talk about this. You’re giving the rest of the crew what they want.”

“They definitely did not lock you in here to talk about why you’re avoiding me,” Zoro muttered. Now it was your turn to scoff, because if only he knew. “Are you sure I didn’t do anything?"

“Positive. It’s all me.”

“Okay, so why?” Zoro prompted. You swallowed hard, trying to dodge around the subject. “Are you sure—”

“Please just stop talking,” you said, one hand reaching out to grip his arm as if the physical contact would make him shut up. There was a stagnant moment of silence, your breath catching as your brain caught up to your body. Your hand was on Zoro’s arm. Your hand was on Zoro’s bicep, and you were in his bed.

You cleared your throat, a panicked choke bursting from your lungs. “Um.” Your eyes skittered sideways, and then you finally turned on your side to stare at him. To stare at where your hand was still clutched around his arm.

You could just barely make out the angle of his jaw in the darkness, but you could see it was clenched, the vein along his neck protruding just slightly. Hastily, you removed your hand, the skin of your fingers tingling like you could still feel him underneath the tips. “Sorry. Why—why are you so certain that you did something for me to avoid you?”

There were a few moments of silence that ticked by, nothing but the rock of the ship interrupting it. Finally, Zoro spoke. “Because the reason they locked you in my room is because—”

“What? The reason they locked me in your room is because of me,” you said. Zoro finally moved from his position, head tilting to face yours so you were eye-to-eye. You swallowed. “Nami, um—Nami specifically forced me in here so I would… talk to you.”

There was a question evident in Zoro’s voice. “About?”

Your lips parted, and then closed again. “Um.”

“We can just sleep, if you want,” Zoro muttered.

“What if they don’t let us out in the morning because we haven’t talked, though?” you hissed. Zoro let out a low laugh.

“You realize you’re giving them exactly what they want.”

“So you’d be more comfortable if we just… fell asleep?” you asked. Zoro shrugged. Since you weren’t exactly averse to the idea of not confessing, you nodded in agreement, heart beating a million miles a second. “Okay. Fine by me.”

You settled back into your pillow, but soon came to realize that, due to the fluttering butterflies in your stomach and the fact you were very aware of the man of your affections being barely a foot to your right, you could not sleep. Evidently Zoro felt the same way, because he kept shifting around under the blankets—your hands brushed against each other a few times before he jolted away like you’d burnt him.

“Sorry,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t say anything in response. Somewhere in the back of your head, you could hear Nami hissing at you—I didn’t shove you in a room with Mr. Prince Charming just for you to not take advantage of the opportunity. You tried to get her out of your brain—it was a bad idea all around—but the words kept reverberating around in your mind until you found yourself suddenly speaking. “Zoro?”

“Hm?”

“Nami stuck me in here so I would tell you that, um—”

“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro murmured, and you shivered, his voice sounding suddenly closer. You squirmed, your hand brushing against Zoro’s again, except this time it took him a delayed moment to drift away. He had gotten closer—or maybe that was you, instinctually leaning towards the dip in the middle of the bed when you’d been lost in thought.

“The reason they locked me in here with you is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” you blurted, the words slurring together, consonants and syllables all in one rush. “Because I have them. Feelings, I mean.”

Zoro’s voice was very low when he spoke. “Excuse me?”

You sat straight up, the blankets previously nestled around your chin falling to your waist. “I have feelings for you and that’s why everyone locked me in here.”

“I—” Zoro coughed, and then coughed again, ridding his throat of whatever was preventing him from making full sentences. He slowly sat up, and you stared down at the blankets in your lap as you saw him rise to his full height beside you. And oh, this was it. He was about to reject you in the most excruciating, offhand manner that would probably leave you at the bottom of a barrel of rum. “That’s not possible.”

“Why is that—” you decided to shut up instead of finishing your sentence, allowing him to speak instead. There was a soft burning starting at your skin, all red hot, and your brain buzzed, regret filling up your lungs and making it hard to breathe.

Zoro didn’t say anything, but you heard his hand before you felt it. It slid across the bedsheets before finally resting beside yours, fingertips grazing against your knuckles. “Zoro?” you whispered.

“The reason they locked you in here with me is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” Zoro said blankly. You blinked. It took you a moment to realize that he wasn’t just quoting you—that he hadn’t switched the pronouns accordingly. Your heart dropped.

Your voice was very faint when you spoke. “What?”

“I like you,” Zoro said carefully. Languidly, the words dripping off his tongue all saccharine-sweet like molasses, or honey. You shivered, your hand accidentally knocking against his, and he took the opportunity to draw it in closer, fingers pushing up your palm, just a hair’s breadth away from interlacing with yours. “Luffy unfortunately found out. He doesn’t know how to keep a secret and told the rest of the crew.”

You gaped at him. “I like you,” you said, dumbfounded. You could feel yourself trembling, fingers sliding against Zoro’s hand with every shake. “Nami yanked it out of me. Which is why I’ve been avoiding you for the past week.”

“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you,” Zoro muttered. His fingertips brushed against the pads of your hand, and you swallowed, mouth all dry. “So.��

You tentatively lifted your gaze, finding Zoro’s eyes even amidst the darkness. They were shining, a slight glint from the moon coming in through the window reflecting along the shadows of his face. Carefully, his hand slid fully into yours, fingers lacing together, and it was like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place.

Zoro slid back down onto his back, tugging you along with him. You settled back on your pillow, using your other hand to pull the blankets back over your chest. For a full stagnant minute the two of you lay there, hands intertwined in the space between.

You were the one who made the first move, then, thumb running up and down the length of his index finger. Zoro ran with the action, tugging your hand just slightly until you were leaning into the dip of the mattress, gravity pulling you closer to his body.

He lifted your entwined hands, tugging you towards him until your back was pressed right to his chest. Then he settled your arms back down again, the back of his palm resting against your belly.

You swallowed hard, able to hear the sound of your throat in the utter silence. Zoro exhaled, his breath softly brushing against your neck. “Good night,” you whispered.

Zoro pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, a ghost of something that left tingles fluttering down your spine, the drunken butterflies in your stomach swaying at the action. “Good night,” he murmured, and your breath caught.

He was warm, oh so warm, like a campfire with licks of flame that softened your hands in the dead of night. And even though you wanted to speak up, question when he’d started liking you, if he was lying or not—you were content to stay here in his arms and drift off to sleep.

So you did, settling back into his embrace with your head spinning and senses murmuring, all dizzy like you were caught in a dream. Eventually, your tiredness got the better of you, and you felt your senses fading as the world around you darkened to black.

The two of you jolted awake to the knocking and the very unpleasant hum of Nami’s voice. “Rise and shine!” she called through the door, and you blinked, bleary eyes adjusting to the light as you suppressed your yawn.

Zoro jolted up beside you, practically giving you whiplash as his arm was still comfortably around your waist. Your fingers tingled, and you realized that you’d fallen asleep with your hands laced together.

“Nami,” you grumbled, about to rise out of bed before Zoro stopped you. You turned towards him in question, only to stop short as you registered the look in his eyes. His gaze was deep, piercing; those butterflies rose up again in your stomach, apparently awake after they’d passed out from their drunken stupor. You swallowed. “Hi?”

“Hey,” he murmured. “They locked you in my room.”

“I’m going to knock Nami over the head with a rowboat oar,” you said blandly, eyes flickering towards the door, which Nami was still pounding on. You vaguely heard shuffling sounds, like the crew were working to move the barrels they’d stuck in front of the door to free you from your prison. “You can have the rest of them, if you want.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Zoro agreed. “But first…”

“First?” you prompted.

Zoro brought your hands—still intertwined—to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss along your knuckles. “Good morning,” he said, voice low and awkward, like he wasn’t used to letting the words out of his mouth. He let your hands drift to his lap, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours.

A faint sigh escaped your lips when he finally kissed you. It wasn’t rough or hard; it was a soft press, like your hands had been just a few hours ago. There was a degree of finality to it; a held-in breath that’d exhaled from your lungs, one you hadn’t realized was building up that much pressure until you finally let it all go.

The door flung open, and you jolted away, but Zoro tilted your head back towards him before you could. At the mouth of the room, Luffy had started screaming. “Aww,” Nami cooed. Behind her, Usopp and Sanji were gripping onto each other like they were watching a particularly engaging fight.

A steady blush rose along your cheeks, but Zoro was absolutely shameless, the hand not held in yours raising up to give them the finger. “Get out of my room.”

“Told you it’d be okay,” Nami sing-songed, and then you really did break away from Zoro, picking up the object nearest to you and barrelling towards her. She shrieked, dodging out of the doorway as Zoro laughed from behind you.

“Wait!” she stopped you from whacking your pillow against her head, raising up her arms in defense. “I was right. I saw you two—”

“Nami,” you started, dangerously low. “You locked me in his room.”

“Yeah, to help you!” she cried defensively, slowly taking backwards steps as you gained on her. “Come on. We can talk about this.”

“Good luck,” Zoro called out from behind you—you turned around, catching his gaze. He had gotten up, leaning against the doorway and watching you with a sparkle of fondness in his eye. “You’ll need it.”

You blew him a kiss, ignoring the long groan it pulled out of Luffy from beside Zoro in the hallway. And then you turned around. Nami had darted off, taking the time you’d been distracted to run off. “Oh no you don’t!” you yelled, and then lunged after her with Zoro laughing all the while.

Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing, you thought. But you were still going to beat Nami’s ass.

#opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #reader insert #x reader #one piece live action #one piece netflix #opla #opla zoro x reader #opla fanfiction #opla fanfic #kiki writes!

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lewisyellowhelmet · 5 months

Text

freefall (pt 2)

lewis hamilton x mercedes engineer!reader

read part 1 here !!

summary: You and Lewis have let this go on too far, and for too long. (You are an engineer for Mercedes on Lewis’ side of the garage).

content: 18+!!!! general m/f sex acts. coworker relationship. let me know if u want anything else flagged!

You wake cold. The hotel air conditioning has kicked on during the night, a familiar whir in the ceiling, and in your sleep you’ve pulled the covers up around your chin in an attempt to keep your body warmth in. It takes a few circulations of the room for you to find the off switch for the air-con.

After, you stand against the big window until your alarm goes off, warm breath making a condensation cloud against the glass. You’re in Baku. No. Budapest. Budapest. You’ve been in this hotel before, you’ve seen this view. You have to close your eyes when the surge of memories come. The sound of Lewis singing to himself in the shower. His warm arm over your belly while you slept. Leaning over graphs together to try and figure out how to be faster, how to be better. Your iPhone is ringing, vibrating, morning alarm. The room is still cold.

You get to the engineers room before Lewis does. It’s rained overnight, the track wet, the air brisk. Endless emails await you. The cars not right. Nothing is right. A headache is pulsing at your temples. Your coffee is cold before you remember to drink it. Others work around you. Recently, you’ve begun having this urge, strong and gripping, to stand up and be wild, to yell and scream. We were in love. We were in love and no one knew. I sacrificed that to give us another go at a championship and now you can’t even get the fucking car to work?

You have to close your eyes and practice box breathing until it passes. When you lift your head again, Lewis is moving around your desk to go into Toto’s office. He doesn’t look at you.

—

It has been a year. A hard year. You’d left the hotel room, left him, feeling on the verge of insanity. Lewis had let you go without much of a fight. It felt like his confession, his acceptance, had drained all his energy. Somewhere silent and hidden behind your heart, you wish he’d fought harder. Having to pretend nothing had happened in front of your co-workers was gut wrenching. Sleeping alone was worse. The break between seasons had helped, a forced separation, different cities, but now, in the thick of a new calendar, a new year, you were constantly turning corners and bumping into him. You couldn’t go back to the friendship you’d had before. And you couldn’t go forward into a new, adjusted working relationship. There was only a sense of coldness, of formality. No way forward, no way back. Only this compounding sense of dread, anticipating the next interaction.

Toto’s assistant sticks her head out of the office while you’re gazing unseeing at the screens in front of you, calling for you. Your bones feel stiff and unwilling as you unfold yourself, follow her into the small room. Lewis is sitting in front of the desk, one knee pulled up, gives you a polite smile upon your entrance. Toto is leaning back in his chair, fingers steepled, deep thinking. There are no chairs for you. You hover behind Lewis, and refuse to think about reaching out, touching the back of his neck, smoothing your fingers into his hair.

Generic meeting. A summary of free practice, and then qualifying from the day before. Plans for the day. Any new ideas? Any solutions? Your headache is getting stronger. No solutions.

Lewis holds the door open for you when the meeting is over, and you can smell him as you move past. Familiar cologne. He used to laugh when you buried his face in his neck, sniffed over-dramatically, pretending to be a curious dog. He’d wriggled from the sensation, your tickling mouth, pressing nose. Pretended he didn’t like it, but always made sure to wear your favourite smell everyday anyway.

You need paracetamol. Too late you realise he’s following you to hospitality, where the first aid kit is stored. He is a step behind, lagging, despite easily being able to match your pace. You feel the gap keenly, an open wound.

—

The over-ear headphones drown out the noise of the garage. This, at least, you can do. Go through the motions of race day, a familiar rhythm. Positioned on your stool in front of your screens, the microphone against your mouth, the final, tenuous connection between you and Lewis. A direct line between you and him. You go through the regular checks together, safety, engine, ensuring the connection is clear. The cars roar. The adrenaline pounds.

“Ready?” You ask.

“Ready.”

You chew on the inside of your mouth so you don’t say, be safe, be careful. The lights flash down. The engines rev. The job begins.

—

The air conditioning is on again in the hotel room. They’ve been in to change the sheets, the towels, vacuumed. You feel stupid with fatigue, with loneliness, with missing him. The after-race meetings had dragged. Lewis was tired. The atmosphere was tense. You want to sleep for ten years, but there is a plane to catch first thing tomorrow morning. There are spirits in the mini-fridge, ice clear and beckoning. You drink two in the shower, and another in front of BBC World News on the television. Are you dreaming? Is this real life? The gin gives everything a foggy haze. Your steps are unsteady. You sit in bed and scroll through yours and Lewis’ text threads. Room numbers. Memes. Inside jokes texted under the table during long meetings. You manage to convince yourself its a mistake when you tap through to his contact number, watch it dial, ring through. Listen to the connecting sound, hear him say, “hello?” before you realise what’s happened, what you’ve done, what rule you’ve broken. You hang up. Hot panic. The newsreader is talking about weather. Lewis is calling back, already, and you watch it ring out. You feel frozen by horror. The room is so cold, and the fridge is worse as you reach in, tiny bottles clinking together. Vodka this time. Forget, forget, forget.

There’s someone knocking on the door. You manage to get yourself into a hotel issued robe, pull it tight, before you get into the small hallway, fumble with the handle, get the door open. You swear, and Lewis has to reach out to stop you closing the door again.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“Yes,” you insist.

“You called me.”

“Did I? It must have been a mistake.”

Your voice sounds fake, even to you, the laugh reedy and broken.

“Are you drunk?” Lewis asks.

“No,” you lie.

He drops his arm from where it was holding open the door. He’s wearing pyjama pants and a worn grey hoodie. One you used to wear to go make the coffee in the morning. You can tell from the softness of his expression he’s been recently asleep. You should shut the door now. Block him out again. Go to bed. Instead, you feel yourself start to cry, building in your chest, the tightness in your throat, burning in your eyes.

“Babe,” he says, so sad, so concerned, and the sob you emit is embarrassing and loud. You have to let go of the door to cover your face, feeling your back curve over. Lewis is gentle about coming inside, guiding you to the bed, tucking you in. He brings you a glass of water, makes you have three big sips. You’re still crying, childlike, red faced and snotty. He passes you tissues, strokes your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you start to say, even as he shushes you, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, “Everything’s okay.”

You feel as if the world is ending. Crying like this in front of him. Drunk and messy. And the room is so fucking cold.

“Can you,” you stumble, wriggling over in the bed, throwing open the covers, “I’m really cold.”

He says your name the way he used to say it, warm and intimate, a nickname. Like a lover. Like a partner.

“Are you sure?” He asks, even as you’re reaching out for him, dragging him in.

“Please,” you say, “I’m cold.”

He tastes salty when you kiss him, your own tears on his mouth. He makes a wounded sound, but then he’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to his chest, his leg over yours. You feel held, sheltered. He lets you kiss him again, deeper, better.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, when you need to breathe, and he’s smiling, warm eyes, smoothing you hair off your face.

“It’s okay,” he repeats, “Whatever you need.”

Your hands are fists in his hoodie, “I need you.”

“How do you need me?”

“Like this,” you whisper, lips brushing his, taking his hand to slip into your robe, over your breast. He sighs out a breath as his fingers touch your nipple, swipe over it again so you make a small, wanting noise.

It feels dreamlike, a long awaited thing. A rush, almost, to get out of your robe, Lewis out of his own clothes so you can sling a leg over his waist, face hidden in the crook of his neck as he pushes into you, his big hand tangled in your hair, holding you to him. Rasping breaths, the sudden heat of two bodies working together, the length of him inside you, pushing deep. It feels instinctual, animalistic, breathing him in, trying to remember everything, compartmentalise every second, every touch, every groan. Lewis rolls you onto your back, but stays close, his mouth finding yours, sharing breath as he grinds into you. You come quickly, nothing controlled, grasping at him and panting, shaking through it. Lewis holds himself there, lets you shudder and cry out, pulsing around him. His eyes are dark and liquid, but he keeps watching you, like he’s trying to remember as well, be present for everything. You don’t want this to ever end. When you can breathe again, he returns to his rythym, steady knocks of his hips into yours, the rush of his breath, of his body. His face drops into your neck when he finishes, hands gripping you like he will never let go again. You feel new, hot tears leak down your face as you hold him.

—

You wake warm, this time. You’re curled around yourself, a child, with Lewis aligned to your back, his face against your spine, his arm over you, protecting you. You’re facing the window, curtains left open, blinking at an apartment building, holding hundreds of different lives, different bedrooms, different people. Lewis is still asleep, you can tell from the steadiness of his breath, the sleep-weight of his body over yours. You place your hand over his, interlinking knuckles. The more you wake up, the more you feel embarrassed, shame curdling in your belly. He’s done this out of pity. How gross, to call him, drunk, drag him into bed with you, to beg. You feel overheated, suddenly, untangle yourself from him, slip out of the covers and into the bathroom, pulling the sliding door to encase yourself in the marble and glass. Your eyes are swollen from crying. You mouth is bruised pink from him. There are fingertip bruises on your waist from where he’s held you. You have to sit on the lip of the built in tub so you don’t throw up, or start crying again. You haven’t washed your hair in a few days, and it hangs limp around your fingers, head in your hands, again. Hiding. Wanting to disappear. Your hangover makes you tremble. You’ve failed. You failed years ago, when you looped your arms around his neck and kissed him for the first time. You failed again when you turned your back on him. And now, to be so weak, to force him to do this again, to look after you.

The bathroom door slides open. Lewis is in your robe, tight around his shoulders. You try to smile at him, but even without seeing you know it’s more of a grimace.

“I don’t know what to say,” you tell him, raking your hands through your hair, “I’m just so, so sorry.”

“You said that a lot last night.”

Lewis doesn’t move any further into the room. Stays in the doorway. Watches. Witnesses.

“I can’t believe I. I’m so embarrassed.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t be.”

“Lewis,” you’re speechless. What is there to say? How to apologise? To take back?

“Look,” he spreads his hands, surrender, “We don’t have to talk about it. It never happened.”

“Never happened,” you echo. Vomit threatens. Never happened.

“If that’s what you want,” Lewis says.

You’re nodding, looking down at your bare feet on the tiles, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

The silence makes you want to scream. Just to break it. You can hear your heartbeat in your head. A constant pound. You stay there, on the edge of the bathtub, while he gets dressed. He doesn’t look in on his way out. The door shuts with a finality.

—

You fly to Oxford. He flies to Monaco. You don’t speak.

—

It happens in the middle of the night. The off season. When you check your phone for the first time the next morning, waiting for the kettle to boil, you have so many missed calls your phone has stopped counting them. The photos are blurry, but it’s obvious if you know what you’re looking for. Through a small window in the door of your office. In the first one, you’re just laughing together, the second you are reaching for his hand, the final one you are in his lap, your mouth hidden by his, Lewis’ big hands in your hair. You’re still staring at them when he calls. He does’t say anything when you pick you. You just breathe, together, for a long moment.

“So it happened,” you finally say.

“It happened,” he agrees.

“I haven’t spoken to anyone else yet. I just woke up,” you say.

“Don’t,” he says, “I’m going to fly in this afternoon. We’ll have a meeting with the publicists. Toto wants HR there, as well.”

“Fuck.”

You hesitate, and then, “Was Toto mad?”

“He wasn’t happy. He reckons Susie knew and didn’t tell him.”

“Where did the photos come from?”

“Ex-employee, they think. Was waiting for the right time.”

“And now is the right time?” You can hear the edge of hysteria in your voice.

“I’m really sorry,” Lewis says.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry.”

You need to boil the kettle again, tea forgotten. You realise you're gripping the kitchen bench so hard your knuckles have gone white. You let go. You look out over the garden, crisp with morning frost. Christmas soon. You’ll have to explain to your family.

“Did Toto say anything about my job?” You ask, feeling sick at the thought.

“No. I said if he fired you, I would quit.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not.”

There’s quiet again. You flick the kettle on.

“I think it’s good if we come in together. We can plan what we want to say. I can pick you up from your house,” he says.

“Alright.”

“Don’t answer any numbers you don’t know, okay? Media might call.”

“Really? I was just gonna pick up strange numbers all day,” you say, a bite in your tone. Lewis laughs though, an amused huff.

“You’re right, sorry. I’m control-freaking.”

You hum an agreement.

"I’ll see you soon, then,” he says.

You suddenly have a fierce urge not to let him end the call, to let his voice anchor you.

“Alright,” you say, and hang up first.

—

The meeting is awful, of course. People are panicking. Toto scolds. You go silent. Lewis rages. In the end, the core group sits silent around a meeting table. The most promising solution is to paint it as star-crossed lovers, meant to be, soulmates. Refusing to be kept apart by jobs and contracts. This would be perfect, perhaps, if you were still together.

“Could you pretend? Until it died down,” Toto had said.

“No,” you’d snapped, speaking over Lewis’, “It depends what she wants.”

Now, the silence is stale, nothing left to say, but no agreement reached. Your eyes prick with fatigue.

—

Lewis drives you home. When he pulls into the driveway, you’re too tired to get out of the car. There is a light on inside. Your mum must be here, checking in on you. Has heard somehow, which must mean it's on the internet.

“How are you feeling?” Lewis asks, when you make no move to open the door.

“Tired,” you say, “You?”

“Sad.”

It’s unconscious, reaching to to touch his leg, an urge to comfort. He sighs. The muscle of him is warm through his jeans.

“If this had happened a year ago,” he starts, and stops, shaking his head, “Doesn’t matter.”

“If it happened a year ago, what?” You say. He shrugs.

“Everything might have turned out okay.”

You turn your face from him, look out the window into the dark street. It makes your heart throb painfully to see him. You can’t speak through a thick, swollen throat.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it,” you finally manage to whisper. Your hand is still on his thigh.

“Didn’t say what?"

You close your eyes, lean to rest your forehead on the car window with a thunk.

“Didn’t say that I loved you back.”

“Did you?”

You laugh, exhausted from carrying it for so long, “Lewis. Of course. Of course I do. So much.”

“You do?”

Your eyes fly open, realising your mistake. You snatch your hand from his leg, turn to face him, “I did. I did then.”

“You don’t love me anymore,” he clarifies. He’s frowning, forehead creased. The night is pressing in on the car, dark and claustrophobic. You can’t speak.

“Because nothing has changed for me. I feel the same as I did then,” Lewis says, and you can see how he’s working to speak, jaw twitching, forcing the words out. Something private, and hidden, being pushed into the open. You’re pressing your hands together in your lap, painfully tight.

“Alright,” you say, hate yourself for it. He looks away. His eyes are gleaming.

“Alright.”

You get out of the car. Stiff and awkward. You get your key in the front door, hear him turn the engine back on. Fear is clawing at your chest. You turn around anyway, back down the steps, jump in front of the car so he has to slam on the breaks, a screech breaking the night air. He’s opening the drivers door at the same time you’re trying to open it, get to him. He’s half out of the car and you’re half in when you kiss him, cold air, warm mouths. He’s grasping your head, holding you steady.

"I’m sorry,” you’re panting, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising,” Lewis says, “What’s done is done.”

You keep kissing him, his face, his nose, his jaw.

“I love you,” you press into his skin, you kiss into his mouth, “I love you.”

Lewis is pulling you into his lap, back into the car, pulling the door shut again, crammed in. Your hands under his shirt, feeling his skin, feeling him breathe.

“Do you?” He asks, holding your face in front of him. You feel your face hurt with how wide you are grinning, a release of something held inside for so long. Your hands mirror his on his face, precious in your fingers.

“I do. I do. I love you.”

Lewis half laughs, half sobs. His eyes are shining. The car horn beeps from a stray elbow. You keep kissing him anyway.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smut #f1 smut #f1 imagine #*

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 4 months

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hi it's the good omens mascot here's some shit about me that might be relevant

I appear to have accidentally caused chaos so I figured you might as well know about me since I'm responsible for it. And also so that you know who you broke, thanks ineffable fandom.

I have been called the prophet by some of you all. This is not entirely untrue, but I would like to add as I did in one post, that Apollo also gave me the curses of art, (very emotional) music, (sometimes good mostly dreadful) poetry, (same parentheses apply, except that the dreadful is on purpose) writing and (used to be good now dreadful) medical knowledge, and so yes, you did accidently adopt a messenger of an ancient Greek god.

Yes, this entire entry into your cult happened from start to now happened in 48 hours.

This will seem less bizarre when I give you context about me and fandoms. I changed career paths (after three years of intense study that cost me my sanity) from science to the arts because I was inspired by drarry fanfiction of them leaving their ministry jobs and following their dreams. Yes I tossed three years and my loss of sanity away in one week of decisions. I'm now a designer. Thanks Draco.

I read so much drarry fanfiction that my mum had to take me to the hospital for injured wrists. I wore wrist and elbow supports and was in constant pain for a few months. I was only later introduced to autoscroll. Yes, I am a fool. Yes, I am unaware of how to human.

I'm broke and cheap enough that I feel guilty buying bottled water, but for Christmas I spent the equivalent of around 150 bottles of water getting a Bakewell tart custom made (they don't sell them where I live). Why? Because in one single fanfiction, it is Draco's favourite food. I would never spend that kind of money on a dessert for any real human being.

That is to say, you all are not ready for when I REALLY fall for Crowley. I don't saunter vaguely downwards for people. I bypass earth and crash into hell, leaving a smoking pit in its infernal ground.

I swear I'm not as dumb as I seem, I just have ZERO general knowledge, and am terrible with faces. I can tell you what the graffiti on the walls of Pompeii from before 70 AD said but I don't know who my previous president was, and personally I think that's very classy of me.

Some of you seem concerned about my sleep schedule. Worry not, I sleep in four installments, night, morning nap, afternoon nap, evening nap. I sleep more than you all, that I can promise. I sleep more than my doggy sister.

About the streams and the timezones, I have no idea how to make it so people can watch, because I frequently mix up east and west and last morning I mixed up the Pacific and Atlantic ocean. I don't know at what point the Eastern hemisphere becomes the Western or how any of it works. I also thought Wakanda was a real place.

But hey fun fact, in 2020 diclofenac sales were dropping in Iceland. I know this because I wanted to make sure to use the correct painkiller in one sentence of a story I was writing. It was completely irrelevant. But hey any of you writers here probably feel my pain. I don't write fanfiction, but I am an author and I write original stories. And honestly what is more useful, Icelandic diclofenac sales from three years ago or timezones?

A career test once told me to be a standup comedian.

Yes that's me Asmi, just your regular dumbass lad who is slightly unhinged, serving himbo twink energy, hello hi nice to meet you all. PS: the poll results are out and Doctor Who won, so tremble, DW fandom.

#good omens fandom #good omens mascot #asmi #weirdly-specific-but-ok #this is me y'all #good omens brainrot #thanks for breaking me i figured you should know about me #crowley #just crowley i'm going to shatter soon #drarry #draco malfoy #fandom culture #fandom things #doctor who #dw fandom #more inaccurate summaries coming up #good omens #fanfiction #and how it ruined and saved me

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 8 months

Text

To Play Hide And Seek With Jealousy

Pairing: Yandere!Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Stalking, murder, general psycho yandere behavior???

Genre: it's dark it's kinda angst technically

Summary: you have a stalker, what happens when you can't take the anxiety anymore // inspired by: To Play Hide and Seek With Jealousy by Famous Last Words

***

The first time he saw you was at work. It was late and the library you work in was just about to close when he happened to catch a glimpse of you through the window. You'd been resting your chin in your hand, reading a book. He stared for quite some time from across the street, watching you close up. He even followed you a few blocks, not all the way to your apartment, but far enough to be reprimanded if anyone found out. You didn't see him, didn't even know for sure there was anyone around but you felt it. A strange inclination that something was amiss. It went on for weeks. You'd feel just the vaguest sense of unease sometimes. When leaving work, or going to work, lunch with friends, even running errands became stressful. You were always looking over your shoulder and your dear boyfriend, he tried everything to calm you down. Started walking you to and from work, or at least calling you when he couldn't, installing extra locks on your apartment door, anything he could do to ease your anxieties he did. It helped, slightly, but even now you still get that odd chill at the back of your neck sometimes.

Unfortunately these days it's usually accompanied by flashes of green and gold. You know for a fact someone is following you, the piercing pair of eyes you often catch peering from the shadows while you're working is enough proof for you. You'd thought you imagined those eyes at first, a side effect of your growing paranoia, but you've seen them too many times, taken pictures, in fact, today you'd be able to draw them how regularly you see them during your late nights at the library. And working day shifts doesn't help, no, those eyes still peek at you from the shadows of the nearby high rises and at this point, you only wish they would do something.

It's exhausting, the constant unease, looking over your shoulder for glints of gold, or glimpses of green, or that pair of eyes. You've barely been able to sleep most nights, even with your boyfriend around literally all the time to try to dispel your nerves.

Your boyfriend. A problem. He already didn't know how to approach you but worse was that- pathetic mortal you kept around. You could do so much better than him, deserved so much better than him, and if he could just get your boyfriend out of the picture he knows he could give that to you. And getting your boyfriend out of the picture is exactly what he plans to do. First anyway.

He's not mean with it. Although he could be. He sees no reason to prolong the torture. It won't win him points or anything. One night, before your boyfriend can pick you up at work he grabs him. So quick the boyfriend can't even scream before he's in a cabin in the woods.

"I appreciate you taking care of her for me, but you can't keep her anymore, and with you around she'll never have me. So you have to go." He tells your boyfriend calmly.

"Y-you're the one who's been stalking my girlfriend?"

"Stalking is a- dreadful way to put it. I suppose it doesn't matter though seeing as I'm about to kill you. Don't worry I'll be quick. I have to get back before y/n gets off of work." A dagger appears in his hand and your boyfriend's eyes widen. He lets out a yell as the blade is plunged through his heart. Luckily they're far away enough from the city that no one will hear him out here. A few moments of pained groans later, your boyfriend slumps over in the chair and he knows the job is done. He waves a hand and magic disposes of the body, cleans his clothes and returns him to his hiding spot to watch you for the remainder of your shift. He even sends a text on your boyfriend's behalf apologizing that he will not be able to get you after all. Step one complete.

When your shift ends you're so nervous about walking alone by yourself that you call a friend to keep you calm. The feeling that you're being watched doesn't go away but you can ignore it slightly while on the phone. In your apartment, you're even more unsettled to realize your boyfriend isn't here. He's always here. Sure he still has his own place but the last few weeks he's hardly left yours because of your concerns. Something is wrong. You feel it in your bones but what can you do exactly?

It's pure coincidence, the video you see the next day on social media, those same eyes you see in the shadows all the time now on your phone, attached to a face, with a name. Loki. You wouldn't be so quick to say so definitively if those eyes were not burned into your memory and if not for the green and gold that seems to be his signature. There's something comforting about having a name and face to the ominous shadow you've... accrued. It doesn't completely eliminate the fear you feel leaving your apartment but it definitely lessens it even if only slightly.

A week. Another week goes by before you resolve you can't let this go on any longer. It's a bit impulsive, you're walking home from work, and after the sound of a window closing makes you jump you decide right then that you have absolutely had enough. You stop in your tracks and turn around angrily. You can't see him but you know he's there somewhere.

"LOKI! I am so over this shit and I know you can hear me so whatever fucking game you're playing it's over! Either show yourself now and tell me what you want or leave me the fuck alone!" You're only glad it's late so no one's around to see you shouting at the air. Moments later Loki materializes in front of you and you steel your nerves, not letting your anger waver.

"Bold choice, threatening a god." He says with a smirk.

"Bold?! I am tired and angry and sick of always looking over my shoulder because the god of mischief ain't got shit else to do. Are you that bored? Can't you find a better use of your damn time than following me around like fucking a psycho?! You are driving me crazy! I'm not bold I am just tired of your games. I'll threaten you all I want, I haven't been able to let my guard down for months!" You snap.

"I don't see why, I've only been protecting you." Loki shrugs.

"Protecting me?! You're out of your mind! You're a stalker! The only thing I need protecting from is you!" You scoff.

"There's that unpleasant word again." He kisses his teeth.

"What do you want from me Loki?" You sigh.

"I love you y/n. I want only to cherish you as you deserve." He says calmly. Your eyes widen as you consider something.

"Have you- have you done something to Andrew?" You ask. You knew the text about a family emergency was suspicious but you had no reason to suspect something was amiss until this moment.

"It's best you don't ask me about that." He says.

"What?"

"Ignorance is your friend. If your Andrew has disappeared, you cannot be implicated as long as you do not know anything about the alleged disappearance. I cannot lie to you though, if you ask me I will tell you the truth, but it puts you at risk. To know. And I do not wish to do that. I will never wish to even potentially harm you." Loki's words send a chill down your spine. Though he hasn't told you what he's done you know in your heart that Andrew will not be coming back to you. Ever.

"H-how could you do this?" You can feel tears sting your eyes.

"I did it for you. You would regret spending your life with him, I know you would, he didn't deserve you and I will not let anything come between us."

"Loki there is no us. I do not know you, I do not love you. And you took my Andrew." You shake your head.

"No you see- I've done us both a favor. Now you can love me. You will, we have all the time in the world." Loki says with a smile on his face so unsettling you have to force yourself not to shiver at the sight, though you do take a step back.

"You're not listening-"

"No, you aren't listening. We're meant to be y/n. I'm sure of it and you will be too. Soon." Loki grabs your arm and in a blink, you're both gone.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki angst #yandere loki

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liaromancewriter · 6 months

Text

The Haunting of Edenbrook

Premise: It’s All Hallow’s Eve, and something wicked lingers in the air of Edenbrook Hospital’s hallowed halls.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat. Bryce Lahela, Jackie Varma Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff Words: 1,400

A/N: Submission for @choicesprompts Flufftober prompt "Embarrassing Secret Revealed" and @choicesholidays Halloween. I'm also using @choicesflashfics week 56, prompt 3.

The October sky raged, dark and churning, echoing the turmoil of a sea in a tempest. Every once in a while, the skies erupted, and a brilliant streak of lightning would illuminate the city. It was a night made for things that went bump in the night.

Witches and ghosts roamed free in the dark shadows, floating above the cobblestone streets of Boston that glistened in the pale. As the clock neared midnight, church bells tolled in eerie harmony, their rhythmic clanging calling all the lost souls home.

Thunder rattled the windows of Edenbrook Hospital’s cafeteria, and a fleeting glow of a lightning bolt forked across the horizon. For a split second, Cassie Valentine thought she saw something streak across the black sky, but she blinked, and it was gone.

She glanced warily at the storm raging outside and wondered if the Emergency Department would be calling for reinforcements. She hoped people had the good sense to stay inside on a night like this.

But it was Halloween, and Boston was a college town. College students weren’t exactly known for playing it safe, she thought with a heavy sigh.

The overhead lights in the cafeteria flickered, and she hoped the hospital wouldn’t lose power.

“You know hospitals have backup generators, right?” Jackie Varma mocked, and Cassie realized she’d spoken the words out loud. “Why so antsy, Valentine?”

She ignored her roommate’s jibe and looked away from the stormy scene outside. “I hate working nights.”

“Welcome to the intern life,” Bryce Lahela called out. He plopped down on the seat across from her and handed her a pudding cup. “Scared of the dark?”

The surgical intern was part of her friend group, so she didn’t mind his glib attitude, just like she was getting used to Jackie’s occasional surliness and cutting remarks.

“Of course not,” Cassie huffed, but Bryce smirked, clearly not believing her.

In the dim light, Bryce leaned in and whispered, “Haven’t you heard? Once upon a time, in between the world wars, Edenbrook used to be a mental hospital. They housed the most dangerous patients on the tenth floor, where the path lab is now.”

He slowly licked his spoon. “They say it’s haunted. Years ago, on a night much like this one, with a storm raging across the harbor, a fire broke out. In their hurry to escape the raging flames, the staff forget about those locked in padded cells above.”

Bryce paused dramatically, his gaze turning inward as he stared at the darkness beyond. Jackie snickered, but Cassie felt dread rising at what was to come.

“The legend goes that nurses hear phantom footsteps in the hallways and icy chills grip rooms,” his voice dropped further, and Cassie leaned forward, her forehead almost touching his. “On All Hallow’s Eve, at midnight, you can hear their sorrowful wails echoing, searching endlessly for a way out.”

Thunder clapped outside, and Cassie jumped in her seat, a shriek escaping her lips. Bryce burst into laughter.

“You should’ve seen your face, Valentine,” Jackie chuckled, giving Bryce a high-five. “Who knew you were such a scaredy cat?”

Sick of being made fun of, Cassie grabbed her tray, pushed back her chair and stalked off, Bryce and Jackie’s laughter echoing behind her.

She started for the staircase, but the creepy feeling from Bryce’s ghostly tale still lingered, and she detoured instead toward the elevator bank. The hallways were quiet this time of night, and she hunched her shoulders as she waited.

Sensing something behind her, she glanced over her shoulder, only to relax when it was clear. But the feeling lingered, and she quickly jumped inside when the doors slid open.

“Dammit!” She noticed the elevator was heading up instead of down. “Great,” she muttered, watching the numbers change as she leaned against the cold, steel wall.

When the elevator slowed its ascent after the ninth floor, her dread returned.

“Please don’t stop at ten. Please don’t stop ten,” Cassie prayed, even as the car stopped and the doors slid open, inch by slow inch.

Cassie almost screamed at the sight of a tall figure standing in the shadowed hallway. And then he stepped forward into the light, and she slumped in relief.

“H-hi, Dr. Ramsey,” she said, her voice strangled by the thought of phantoms roaming the dim hallways stretching behind him.

No wonder Dr. Wen, the chief of pathology, was always jumpy. She would be, too, if she had to work on this floor every day.

Ethan Ramsey nodded in acknowledgment but didn’t step into the elevator. Instead, he quirked one eyebrow. “In or out, Valentine? I haven’t got all night.”

Cassie realized he was waiting for her to exit. “I’m not getting off,” she said, “I got on the wrong elevator by accident.”

He mumbled something about interns under his breath and crossed the threshold before the doors slid shut. Pressing the button for his floor, he looked back expectantly at her.

“Four,” she sputtered, gripping the railing behind her.

Cassie didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until the doors slammed shut.

“How come you’re here so late?” she asked as the elevator began its descent.

“Gee, Valentine, I had no idea I reported to you now,” he said, sarcasm dripping from each word.

That shut her up, and she went back to staring at the numbers above the door.

Ethan’s cologne filled her senses. The subtle scent reminded her of summer nights after a rainstorm washed the world clean. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, and she felt a spark of electricity crackle in the air. It was always thus when he was near.

She wondered if she’d ever get over this ridiculous crush. She was competing for a spot on his team, and whatever this…thing was between them couldn’t go anywhere.

There was no denying Ethan Ramsey had sex appeal oozing from his pores. She was likely just horny, Cassie reasoned. Maybe she should give the dating apps another try. If she scratched that itch, she could stop fantasizing about the man who held the fate of her career in his beautiful, long-fingered hands.

Cassie felt his gaze upon her and slid her eyes sideways. There was something indescribable in his blue eyes as he watched her. Her brows furrowed as she tried to decipher it, but his face became inscrutable when he caught her spying.

“You seem jumpier than usual,” he commented as an uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

“I’m just not a fan of that floor,” Cassie mumbled.

“And?” he prompted when she didn’t say anything more.

“I guess I hadn’t heard about Edenbrook’s past before, and it spooked me,” she shrugged.

“What on earth are you talking about, Rookie?” Ethan said, brows beetling in confusion.

“You know, the fire when the hospital was a mental asylum, the patients that died,” Cassie explained. “On the tenth floor?”

Ethan stared at her as if she’d grown two horns, and then his face cleared. His laughter boomed in the air, and Cassie realized it was very much at her expense.

“And when exactly did this gruesome incident occur?” he asked as the elevator stopped at his floor.

“Bryce said it was sometime in the nineteen thirties,” Cassie said, wondering why Ethan didn’t know this.

“Edenbrook was founded in the late nineteen sixties as a teaching hospital, and only a teaching hospital,” Ethan emphasized the latter. He stepped off the elevator and turned to face her. “In case you missed the plaque hanging on a wall in the atrium.”

“Oh,” Cassie said, embarrassed beyond belief. Now that he mentioned it, she had seen the sign in her first week and even remarked on it with Sienna and Elijah.

“I’m afraid I may have made a mistake with you,” Ethan drawled, deceptively calm, placing his hands on the sensors to stop the doors from closing. “Gullible residents have no place on my team.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Ramsey,” Cassie muttered, a flush spreading up her neck. “I’ll do better.”

“See that you do, Dr. Valentine,” Ethan shook his head in exasperation and released the doors.

The last thing Cassie saw before the elevator doors closed was Ethan chuckling as he walked away. She inhaled deeply, her nostrils flaring as his lingering scent filled her senses, and she sighed wistfully.

Crushing on Ethan Ramsey was a recipe for disaster. The man was trouble with a capital T.

------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

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#open heart #open heart choices #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfics #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine #choices open heart

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wifeyifey · 1 year

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Hi, um, hope I ain't bothering you but... I had a bad morning to say the least. Can you possibly write Deathslinger, Wraith, Doctor, and Pyramid Head comforting/hugging reader s/o who's been remembering bad memories about their mentally/emotionally abusive mom? Just... You can ignore this if you don't wanna write it...

You're not bothering me at all. I totally get it and I hope you feel better! I too have many mornings like that so just know you aren't alone my friend. I may have self-projected some of my mommy issues in this tbh. I know that it's hard so just know you have more people who love and care for you <3

Dbd x gn!reader (fem!reader in Herman's, should be gn! the rest of it tho)

Description: dbd killers give comfort to their s/o.

This is angsty but it is also a comfort fic.

Deathslinger:

You sigh as you walk around the sunny realm of your boyfriend. It has been a bad day for you, you would say. You had very little sleep the night before due to, what you like to call, the hauntings. You got up, rubbed your eyes, and headed towards the one place that gives you the most comfort and now here you were.

You went around looking for Caleb, but you sadly couldn’t find him anywhere. At this point you were going to cry. You don’t like it here and you didn’t like your life too much beforehand, but at least you have Caleb. You never talked about your life before the Entity and neither did Caleb. Sometimes you would get something small from him where he would mention his gang. Nothing more than that though. You had a family, but it wasn’t really a family was it? You scoffed at the thought and sat down in the saloon. You leaned over the bar and grabbed a glass and put just a little whiskey in it. You don’t like drinking very much… too used to seeing it take a negative effect on those around you.

You’re getting angsty. Where is Caleb? You feel your eyes burn from the build up of unreleased tears and the feeling of being overwhelmed taking over you. You get up with the glass in your hand and you’re about to throw the drink at the wall before a hand grabs your wrist and turns you around. You look at Caleb and he was already looking at you with softened, but confused eyes. “What’s wrong darlin’?” Caleb asked while grabbing the glass from your hand and setting it down on the nearby table. He wrapped his arms around you as you threw your face into his chest sniffling.

He has never seen you so upset before and he isn’t completely sure what to do. He just let you cry it out and held you close to him. Pressing a kiss here and there on top of your head and repeating “It’s ok. I’m here. I’m here.” You didn’t realize how comforting hearing him say that to you. You look into his eyes and whisper a small “Forever?” Even though you both know the unpredictability of where you are and how the situation may change one day, he couldn’t help how innocent it sounded coming from you and replied with a small “Always.” as he gives you a small kiss on the lips.

Wraith:

Philip knew there was something off when in the trial you were giving up easily on things. You always were a strong team player and always helped others by healing them once you got them off the hook. Philip hated how he had to hook you in his trials, but he really wanted to end this trial quickly so he can get to you.

None of the generators were working and every survivor was gone. Except for you. His sweet love. He appeared behind you with his little jingle. He was expecting you to excitedly turn to him. However, that didn’t happen.

You felt so numb. All the memories of your past coming up and how you just wish some part of your life was normal. Never would you have thought you’d ask for normalcy in your life. But here you are. You heard Philips jingle, but you just couldn’t shake off the feeling of dread in you. So deeply rooted inside of you. Philip could feel the sadness coming off of you in waves. Philip is so used to seeing such happiness from you. He doesn’t know how to change things. He does know, however, to comfort you.

He sat down on the ground behind you, his legs open and his hands gently reaching out for you. When you felt his hands on your waist, you knew you would be ok as soon as you were wrapped in his arms. He pulled you in between his legs and wrapped himself tighter around you. He felt you melt into his body and made a happy grunt that you were seemingly at peace. You looked up at him and softly said, “You’re the only family I’ll ever need.” You then tucked your head under his chin and felt so much more at peace. Philip just felt all his blood rush to his face and nearly felt the sting of tears in his eyes at the sentiment of that statement.

Oh how he loves you.

Doctor:

“Herman, I don’t see the point in this. You’re not a therapist anymore. Just crazy.” You let out a laugh at the face he gave you as he turned to look at you in his wheely chair. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that. For your sake, my flower.” he said monotonously as he gave a tiny harmless zap to your thigh. He chuckled at your little yelp and then he soothed his hand where he shocked you. “I wasn’t asking to be your therapist… I’m telling you, you need to talk to me.”

You sighed as you crossed your arms. You see that he has already taken notes on his observations of you in the past few days. You tried reading them, but his handwriting can be a little difficult to read sometimes. “I just want to know what is making you wither. You haven’t been yourself and I don’t like seeing you so glum. You are more delicate than you want to appear. Buut, you are stronger than you think as well. I’m assuming you’ve been sad because you’ve been thinking of your past life.” You looked at him, a little embarrassed, but not surprised he came to that conclusion.

“Yeah. I just don’t exactly know how to talk about it. I-... I wanted to forget about it. I’ve just been having those dreams… where they’re almost like memories. Just… not… good ones.” You say as you look down at your feet. Twisting the front of your right foot to grind the broken glass on the floor. Herman scooted his chair over to where your legs were placed between his. He looked up at you and gently cupped his hand behind your knee, thumb brushing against your kneecap. He used his other hand to grab your hand and he brought your hand to cup his face.

“Was it about your mom?” he asked. You looked at him with almost a blank stare. The only reason he was able to ask without you explaining more was because you were his s/o before the Entity brought you both here. You were happy to be back with him, just wish it were under better circumstances here. You guys were engaged back in the day. Your ring is still on your finger. Herman loves you and understands that your mom was always hard for you to talk about. It’s been more of a problem lately because you both found out you were pregnant. Becoming a mom was something you were scared of because you didn’t want to be like your mom. Not like you’d ever let that happen. Nor would Herman for that matter.

“Herman, do you think I’ll be a good mom?” you ask with tears running down your face. Herman stood up and cupped your face gently and wiped away your tears. “My dear. With the heart and brain you have, you will be the best mom there ever was.” He brushed his nose against your cheek.

I guess you can’t ignore the doctor. If he says it, it must be true. You smile at him and kiss his cheekbone and instantly remember that you’ll never be your mom. You have the support system you need in Herman.

Pyramid Head:

*pre dbd universe*

Living in Silent Hill was not the life you would’ve imagined for yourself, but with a protector and s/o like Pyramid Head, you’re at least not lonely.

The way you met this monster of a man was due to his need to kill the worst people and monsters. He heard you. From miles away. He heard the beating of your innocent heart and the terrible one that was attacking you. He knew it was time to take you from this creature. The purity in your heart couldn't be destroyed by something so evil.

When it happened, you were crying. You were scared you were going to be killed, but all this creature did was reach down and caress your cheek with the back of his hand.

He picked you up with his empty arm, almost cradling you because of how massive he was. He took you to a safe place. Somewhere far away from the madness. He was your home now. He gave you safety and he was a perfect heater for the cold nights. He grabbed you things that you might need while he was out on his runs. He never let you leave. He knows the the connection your soul has to the one he took you from. Yet, he knew your soul was connecting with his in a very strong bond.

He came home to you after an uneventful day. He leaned his giant knife against the wall and laid down on the giant nest of a bed you made when he brought you here. You came in with a glass of water and laid down next to him. You rest your head on his chest and cuddle into him. His arm wraps around you tightly and you feel like nothing else matters. You have Pyramid Head to care for you and to keep you safe. His comfort was all you needed when the days were gloomy. He obviously can’t give any verbal comfort, but the physical comfort was all you needed.

I hope you liked this my friend! Lmk what you think!

Requests are open!

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #deathslinger x reader #caleb quinn x reader #wraith x reader #Philip Ojomo x reader #the doctor x reader #Herman Carter x reader #pyramid head x reader

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hesthermay · 11 months

Text

𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒

PAIRING: commander wolffe x gn!mechanic!reader

SUMMARY: long work days and slight carelessness lead to you and three attackers in a late night chase. where you will go, there is only one answer; the den of wolves. who you will call, there is only one answer; the leader of the pack.

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

RATINGS + WARNINGS: general audiences, mature themes, angst. mentions and descriptions of violence, clones using mando’a terms

NOTES: angst! fear! a bit of fluff? we have it all! wuv wuv wuv mr. wolffe. also i hit 200 followers!! what!! should i do anything special?!

STAR WARS MASTERLIST

Late.

It was late, the sky dark and the street lights on, and it was way past time to clock out.

A nasty habit of yours, letting work take over the entire day as if you did not have needs to be met and a life outside of tools and machinery. But what could you say? When faced with a problem that needed to be solved, you had to do just that. It mattered little when you were supposed to leave, when you should have taken a lunch break, or how dangerous the streets of Coruscant could be after dark.

The speeder before you had given you a run for your credits for the few days you’d had it in the shop you worked at, and you were hard pressed to get it running again sooner rather than later; so you let time keep running as one by one the building emptied, every other mechanic departing at the end of the work day instead of never letting it end.

Still, you did not care.

You were close, you could feel it. But alas, the rumble in your stomach and the ache of your limbs and back told you that it would have to be another day. As you slid out from under the machine and sat up, sharp pains settled in your head and fatigue weighed heavy on your eyelids.

“Fine,” you sighed, muttering to yourself as you cleaned up your area slightly. “Tomorrow, then. I’ll get you tomorrow.”

Your bag was thrown over your shoulder on your way out, but your feet moved on their own. You were not thinking, not paying attention to the route in front of you as your mind ran over the progress that had yet to be made, what you would eat for dinner, what Wolffe was doing, and so you were not aware of the wrong turns you had taken. Carelessness in the wake of caring too much had, once again, gotten you into trouble.

You were not in a good part of town, that much you knew, and after another turn you were made aware of the body tailing you. One soon turned into two, then three, and you can hear the blood pumping in your ears. What do I do? Where do I go? Who do I call?

It was a split second decision when you sprung forward, taking off faster than you knew you could go. Fear coursed through your veins, and you were running for dear life, but you did not know where you were going. You surely couldn’t go to your apartment, your home, that would be leading the foxes right to the henhouse.

Then, the answer became clear, bright flashing lights in your mind's eye. Whether it be instincts or just plain old common sense, it told you to lead them into the den of wolves.

The GAR barracks weren’t close, per say, but that mattered not when thundering footsteps echoed behind you, the occasional shout filling the space. Normally steady hands clumsily reached up to unbutton the breast pocket of your coveralls, pulling out a comm device and attempting to dial the one person you knew could—would—save you.

“Kriff,” you panted as you took a sharp turn, having to redial the comm code after messing up, but there was no answer. “Wolffe!” you yelled into the device, bordering on desperate. “Come on, Wolffe!”

Disappointment showered over you and dread filled your boots, making them all the more heavy as you willed yourself to keep going. You were hurting, body aching more than ever and screaming at you to stop, but you ignored it. Your lungs were on fire, trying to regulate your breathing as much as you could as you pushed yourself farther and farther, but you ignored it. Your eyes were bleary from lack of sleep and too much concentration combined with panicked tears welling, but you ignored it.

And then, just up ahead, the buildings housing the Clone Army on Coruscant came into sight, and hope almost had the audacity to bloom in your chest. You began yelling again, not caring about the ruckus you were causing because your stalkers had gained on you and were closer than you were comfortable with.

You risked a look behind you, and it was the downfall of your escape. You had unintentionally slowed, eyes trying to scope out the predators as they preyed on you, and one had reached out and grabbed you by the collar of your coveralls. You were yanked back, choking as you flew to the ground like a ragdoll and rolled, scraping your elbows and palms as you tried to brace for impact.

Paralyzing fear coursed through your veins as you trembled, looking up at the three beings who had chased you down as they gathered around you. They sounded accomplished, proud, as they drew closer, closing you in and trapping you. One reached out with a large and scaly hand and instincts once again graced you at the last second in the form of a leg shooting out and making contact with their knee. A satisfying crack! sounded out but your actions were met with retaliation that was anything but so.

Your head jerked back as a punch landed on your jaw and pain spread around your face instantly. The cry that left you was sharp and seemed to echo around the area, and yet nothing came to stop your attackers from continuing. A kick followed the last blow, driving into your stomach and knocking all of the breath out of you.

“Fucking bitch,” the one you had kicked growled, reaching out and grabbing your face harshly, lifting your head to make you look at them. “You’re going to regret that.”

“Oh, really?”

That voice, though it was one that belonged to many, could have only been from one man. Relief, in almost the purest form, washed over you as the rough hand let go and you turned to see white and gray armor.

The wolfpack had arrived, eyes glowing and teeth bared.

“Who do you think you are?” One of the assailants questioned, and the man with the cybernetic eye’s stride never faltered as he answered lowly.

“I’m your worst nightmare.” He was frightening, lethal, and that had begun to dawn on the lowlifes before him, but there was no chance of escape. Running was not possible, for when they turned to dash away, their path was blocked by more clones.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” one of them tutted, reaching out to roughly shove one of them back towards Wolffe.

It was quick, him fixing the problem. He did not play around, beat around the bush, play with his prey; no, the rage that filled him to the very brim was much too strong for that, much too white hot to be slow about things. He had made a name for himself amongst the Republic Army, and he was living up to it. Blood covered parts of his armor when he was finished, the scum lying in a heap before him as he ordered one of his brothers to call the police. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to calm himself even just a little before he turned to you.

He discovered that was easier said than done. Worry so potent and severe had built up inside of him since he heard your comm, growing all the more when he heard your yells and cries. You, in danger, was something that sent a streak of fear through an otherwise unshakable man. Wolffe did not often come undone, was not one to unravel, and yet when he was on his way to find you he felt himself on the brink. He hadn’t even asked his brothers to follow him, but some had heard your message and all had noticed the shift in their commander.

“Are you alright, mesh’la?” he questioned almost shakily as he crouched beside you. Tears had streamed from your eyes from the impact and pain of the blows dealt to you, and just the sight of it made his heart constrict. The bruising on your face and the hand clutching your stomach only made it worse, and he couldn’t stop himself from putting a hand on the back of your head. His gloves were filthy, stained, but he hardly cared.

Your only response was a nod of your head, though you still shook slightly on the ground. “I’m sorry I couldn’t answer your call, I was held up; but I heard it,” he apologized, emotion making the words come out thick. “I heard it, riduur, and I wasn’t gonna let anything get you.”

“I believe you,” you whispered hoarsely, throat raw from the screaming. “That’s why I came here. I knew you’d help.”

He sighed, trying to get it through to himself that you were alright, that you had made it. His eyes took note of your attire—grease stained blue coveralls with your name patch sewn on crookedly— and he sighed again. “Y/N, what are you doing leaving work so late?” His brows were furrowed and he didn’t look very happy, and it may or may not have been because he had specifically made it a point to tell you not to do that. He’d had a conversation with you, and mentioned it in passing numerous times, that you needed to leave the shop before it got too late and if you absolutely had to stay, do not go alone.

“It’s—” you started, having to look away from the face he was giving you, knowing that no matter how valid you felt your reason to stay so late into the night was, Commander Wolffe would not agree. “It’s that speeder I’ve had for a bit.”

“You left late because of a speeder?”

The question was incredulous as it came from over your shoulder, as if it was the most ridiculous thing ever. Perhaps because it was. You sheepishly looked behind you, eyes landing on another clone clad in gray and white. His helmet was off like the rest of the 104th at the moment, and he looked down at you with a quirked brow.

With warm cheeks, you nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’m a bit dedicated.”

Wolffe chuckled, lowly and almost undetectable, but his shoulders shook nonetheless. “Yeah, and it just might be the death of you one day.” He stood up straight, extending a hand out to help you up.

You accepted, spirits already rising again in the presence of your beloved, and cracked a small smile. “Oh, mesh’la, you wouldn’t be so lucky.”

In a rare moment of wearing his heart on his sleeve, Commander Wolffe put his arm around your shoulders, his smile growing at your use of mando’a. Around him, his brothers watched in awe and amusement. “No, it wouldn’t be very lucky at all.” He began to lead you away from the scene, in the direction he knew your home was, still holding you. Behind him, his brothers followed.

“So, Commander,” Boost piped up, and he could already tell he was going to stretch this out. “When were you gonna tell us you were basically married?”

all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my content as your own.

#the witch: writes #commander wolffe my pookie <3 #—star wars #—signed; wolffe #star wars imagine #star wars oneshot #the clone wars imagine #the clone wars one shot #the clone wars x reader #tcw wolffe #tcw x reader #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe imagine #wolffe x reader

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weirdocvnt08 · 7 months

Text

Title: Hair Care & Kisses

Relationship: Rise!Leonardo/Yuichi Usagi

Words: Under 1K

TW: None

Author is listening to: My Love by maye

AN: This drabble has NO relation to my current ROTTMNT Human AU “Crazy Little Thing Called Life”. Also this drabble has been edited so for those who are here for a re-read, hello! <3

~<3~<3~<3~<3~<3~

Yuichi was over at the Hamato household as another one of his impromptu visits and currently sitting on Leo’s bed, scrolling through some Instagram reels on his cellphone as he let his boyfriend brush his long straight hair.

Initially, Leo had only brushed his hair because one night while they were cuddling the curly haired teen had run his fingers through Yuichi’s hair but got caught on clumps of dime sized knots underneath the lower half of the other boy’s scalp. When a half-asleep Yuichi yelped at the sudden tug, Leo had made him sit up while he went to retrieve two of his brushes and some hair clips from his shelf to work on de-tangling his boyfriend’s hair.

It wasn’t Yuichi’s fault that sometimes (or more like most of the times) he just didn’t feel like performing the whole act of brushing his hair, but after sitting through fifteen minutes of Leonardo making constant remarks over how his hair is way easier to manage unlike his own tight curls that needs extra care and attention, should at least brush it once a day. Yuichi eventually agreed with a little pout and thanked him for the dreaded save of having to deal with de-tangling his hair himself.

Now on days whenever the white-haired teen comes over to visit his boyfriend, Leo will brush his hair for him if he didn’t feel like doing it himself. In fact, he’d prefer for him to do it because he knew he didn’t mind and loves how much care Leo puts into something that should be a mundane act.

Today Leo wanted to put a little more effort and styled Yuichi’s hair sort of into his usual high ponytail except he parted the hairs from the front of his scalp into six small sections that were then tied back at mid-scalp, using the remaining groups of hair to make six simple braids. He then tied it all together with the rest of his untouched hair and leaving only two locks of hair at the front of his face where his bangs would typically be.

“Aaaaand, done! Turn around so I can get a good look at you. Nothing feels too tight, right?” Leo asked as he parted the other teen’s hair so it could lay over his shoulders. Yuichi did as he was told, shifting his body around to turn and face Leo as he shook his head. “No, it feels fine” he replied.

Leo cupped his face with both hands, tilting it up so they were looking directly at each other. At first it was just to see if nothing looked weird at the front of his hair, but it didn’t take too long for his eyes to wonder onto his boyfriend who was already softly staring at him. Now that Leo’s eyes were locked onto his, Yuichi slightly tilted his head to the side with a cute smile and a curt “Hi.”

Instantly Leo’s heart burst in an explosion of affection from how cute Yuichi looked and just was in general. He chuckled as he bent down to lean his face close to his and cooed “You’re so fucking cute” followed with an immediate attack of kisses Leo placed all over his face.

Yuichi happily accepted the kisses, already used to Leo’s affection bombs and waited for him to finish to respond, “And you’re really pretty.”

Leo gave him a confident smile and replied “I better be. I put a lot of effort to look this good!”

Replying to his boyfriend’s response with a small and playful eyeroll, Yuichi wrapped his arms around Leo’s waist as he stared up at him. “Can’t you ever take a compliment and just say ‘thank you’?”

“I wouldn’t really be me if I did, now would I bun?” Leo quipped back as he laid his arms over Yuichi’s shoulders.

“No, you wouldn’t” The other teen indisputably replied with a mock sigh. He then craned his neck higher towards Leo and Leo immediately leaned back down to give him his silent request for a kiss.

Yearning for more bodily contact, Yuichi tugged at Leo’s waist, urging him closer to the bed and once Leo had both his knees planted on top of the mattress Yuichi pulled them both down onto the mattress. Their lips never broke apart once and like clockwork their limbs snaked around each other until they were comfortably slotted against the other.

Music that Leo left on from earlier softly played in the background and helped them with the momentum of their kisses. It would change from short and chaste to deep and passionate, along with the in-between playful nips to one’s bottom lip. The sound of their smacking lips filled the room and just the entire atmosphere made them feel like they were in their own little personal heaven.

They were so lost in each other that they didn’t hear the commotion coming from outside Leo’s room until suddenly they were interrupted by Mikey who, without even knocking, entered Leo’s room and announced “Leo! We’re back with your order of wings you asked for, come out and get—oh! Hi Usagi! Didn’t know you were here!” He cheerfully greeted his friend.

Quickly the Japanese boy pulled away to clear his throat, then picked his arm up that was draped over Leo to wave at Mikey’s direction and greeted him back “Hi Mikey!”

Donnie was next to poke their head into Leo’s room and their eyes immediately zeroed in on the entangled and hugging form of their brother and his boyfriend.

“Oh, the unofficial resident is here. Don’t you ever have something to do at your own home?” They asked rhetorically and monotonously with a sassy quirk to their filled-in eyebrow.

Leo, annoyed with his siblings for barging into his room and not immediately leaving him and his boyfriend alone, shouted “Shut up Donnie! Maybe we should replace you with Yui since he doesn’t stay up late and rage over a game in the middle of the night for all of us to hear for your Twitch streams!”

Donatello glared at their twin’s back and with crossed arms, let out an offended scoff as they bit back “Preposterous! I’ve lived here my whole life and I’m not going anywhere!”

Seriously, couldn’t they read a room and see he wanted to be alone with Yuichi and go back to the sweet kissing action he was just receiving a few moments ago?! “Ugggh, whatever! Just get out of my room, both of you, now! We’ll be out in a minute!”

Mikey let out a snicker as he turned around and dragged a judging Donnie with him back to the kitchen so their brother can have a moment longer alone with their guest before they steal him from Leo for the rest of his visit.

Leo let out an exaggerated sigh as he buried his face into the crook of Yuichi’s neck.

“Oh my god, no one prepares you for your lack of privacy in a household with three siblings, not including the other one who doesn’t even live here.” Leo whined.

Yuichi snickered at his boyfriend’s reaction but held him tighter and kissed his forehead.

“I don’t know how anyone could but ya’know, maybe I should just move over here, permanently, since I am here pretty often.” He teased with a shit-eating grin.

Leo’s heart rate spiked as he picked his head up to stare at Yuichi with a flustered and faux-annoyed look as he dried out “Oh ha-ha, real jokester huh. Shut up and let’s just go before they come back in here with Raph and Pops.”

Before Leo could get up from the bed, Yuichi placed his hand on Leo’s cheek to plant a loving kiss to his plush lips, to which Leo instinctively reciprocated.

“Aishiteru, dārin” He sweetly told the other.

Leo’s chest felt full of warm love as he shyly grumbled “Yeah, I love you too cariño.”

With one last shared kiss they untangle themselves from each other and got up from the bed content. They shared a smile with each other before leaving the room and joining the rest of Leo’s family who were already eating and debating on which movie they should watch after eating and April joins them once her classes finish.

#rise leonardo #yuichi usagi #rottmnt #rise tmnt #samurai rabbit #leoichi #leochi #rise leosagi #my writting #my work #human au #rise leo #usagi yuichi #riseleoichi #drabble

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mae-falling-in-may · 2 years

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Save Your Tears | The Darkling x Reader

Hum, hi :') It's been a while... I'm sorry !! I've been so demotivated on writing and just couldn't get my mind on Tumblr. So, before you can read what I finished after years, just know that I won't be publishing first on Tumblr if I write anything, I'll prioritize Ao3 for further OS and eventual series (I'm working on one rn). So now you know !! Now enjoy :))

Pairing : The Darkling x Reader

Warnings : Angst, mention of breaking up, Aleksander is a coward

Summary : He sees you at the ball after breaking your heart, but he can’t handle seeing your tears dropping down your face.

This is a song fic based on Save Your Tears by The Weeknd.

Words : 2k

This was another ball at the Little Palace. Even though he did not want to waste his precious time on a foolish event like this one, he had to attend, to show to his people that everything was okay. Sighing, Aleksander put on the black kefta he usually used for events like these. It framed him perfectly, knowing that black was only his to wear. The embroidery on it was sophisticated, as always. He observed his reflection in the mirror, firstly satisfied with the aura he gave off. But when he looked at his face, it hit him, he was exhausted. The man had barely slept for the past few weeks. All the previous events had broken him little by little, and it was his fault.

Sighing once again, he called Genya with a very strict tone. She arrived quickly after that, he asked her to fix his face, not wanting to look dreadful. Knowing that she would ask him to sit on a chair, he did already so he would not be hearing her soft voice, as he felt like it would overwhelm him too much. He let Genya arrange his features, making him look less tired, cheeks less deep, and his skin a bit more colored. When she finished, she let out a small "It's done General." He thanked her quietly before standing up and told her to enjoy the evening, then left the room.

The corridors were much brighter than Aleksander's liking, he usually liked more settled lighting. Walking through the Little Palace, directing himself to the reception room, he started to feel anxious. Yes, the great General, a Shadow Summoner, anxious. Because his mind drifted off, and he started thinking of you. He knew you were going to be there, you had no choice after all, this reception was so important for everyone. He anticipated this night so much, after all he did to you, after breaking your heart. He was such a fool, how dare he, making you feel worthless when you were his everything.

He got closer to the room, stopping himself right before the entrance. A few people greeted him, wishing him a good night. He sent back the same wishes too, politely. He took a big breath, quite discreetly, before entering the room. A few looks turned to him, but he did not take note of them. He looked through the whole room, then his gaze stopped. You were here.

I saw you dancing in a crowded room

You were here. And you were dancing with one of the guests. His hands and jaw clenched. Seeing you with someone else, felt like a dagger through his heart. You were so graceful, your hair was embellishing your features. Your eyes were so full of life while you were dancing, your lips looked so soft, the outfit you chose fitted you perfectly. But oh, how he wished you wore black. Just to show everyone that you were his.

You look so happy when I'm not with you

He could not lift his gaze off of you for one second. Luckily for him, anyone barely spoke to him, they were just enjoying the soirée. He took a glass of the nearest alcohol he could find and drank half of it. He needed to feel more relaxed to be able to go through this night, really. You were still dancing so beautifully in the center of the room, before the music stopped. You bowed before your dance partner, while they kissed politely the back of your hand. This was when you spotted him.

But then you saw me, caught you by surprise

Both of your eyes met each other. It felt completely ethereal, it was as if you were meant to be in each other's arms. This moment felt like time completely stopped, like everyone in the room disappeared. Looking into your eyes, Aleksander felt his heart drop, he had not seen you for so long. He missed you, he missed drawing his hand on your cheek, he missed being close to you. Losing himself to the thoughts of you and him, he got startled when he noticed that you were crying.

A single teardrop falling from your eye

One teardrop, he didn’t know why it startled him so much, seeing you cry was the worst thing he ever saw. Seeing you cry because of him, made the man feel so guilty. Something had gotten stuck into his throat, maybe guilt, regret, love, he didn’t know. He cleared his throat while watching you cry more freely. Your dance partner was obviously worried about you, and they asked how you were feeling. They offered you their handkerchief to dry your tears, and you did use it, muttering a small thanks.

I don't know why I run away

I'll make you cry when I run away

The fact is, he was a coward. Despite the both of you being so in love with each other, he wanted to run away. It’s been so long since he last loved someone, dared to let down his mask and shield with someone. But he hated it, he felt so vulnerable, so the more you saw each other, the more he was conscious, thinking of leaving you to protect you, and him.

You could've asked me why I broke your heart

You were walking towards the General, after giving back the tissue your dance partner handed you. You tried to be as emotionless as possible after some of the guests and especially The Darkling had spotted you like that. You hated the fact that your heart was still calling him. After everything happened. You hated the fact that you still find him so handsome, that you still could fall asleep in his arms.

You could've told me that you fell apart

Despite being not able to read minds, Aleksander knew that you were fighting with dangerous thoughts in your head. But you were silent. You broke the eye contact that lasted for so long as if it was hours, while walking towards him. You took a glass of alcohol from one of the servants, smiled politely to thank them, and drank a lot of it. You were dangerously approaching him, and it made him tense up a bit.

But you walked past me like I wasn't there

And just pretended like you didn't care

You left the room, without a word. Without another look towards him. When he felt your presence leaving, he felt like falling apart. How could he get hurt so much just by having you leave like that ? He didn't know, but the overwhelming feeling of guilt has started to make him sick. He fought the urge to follow you, and try to talk to you, to apologize. But he knew, deep down in his heart, even though you loved him so much, you could not forgive him, ever.

I don't know why I run away

I'll make you cry when I run away

He was getting more and more distant everyday, thinking that you would not notice. But of course you were too smart for that, you let him know that he was worrying you. He told lies after lies to make you feel better, and to be honest, to make him feel better too. Alas, being far from you was killing him. Not being able to have you in his arms, to kiss the top of your head, your cheeks and his favorite spot, your lips, was strangling him day after day. He knew you cried a lot these times, and he regretted making you feel that way, he didn’t deserve you.

Take me back 'cause I wanna stay

He wished he could be back into your life. He wished to change everything he said to you that night. He wanted to be with you, to tell you how much he loved you. Oh, he wanted to stay with you so much. He wanted you to get him back. Instead of leaving, he wanted you to take his hand, look at him with your beautiful eyes and pull him back into your arms. But the only thing he could have from you were the tears you liberated when you saw him.

Save your tears for another

Save your tears for another day

He hated seeing you cry. He hated the feeling that it gave him, the way you looked up at him, with your wet and sparkly eyes, he wished he could dry them up. He didn’t want you to let them roll down your cheeks because of him. He wished he could tell you to keep your tears.

So, I made you think that I would always stay

He was so scared of losing you, after many years of loneliness, finding you was a relief. The way you could make his heart and head spin just by smiling at him, the way you could make him stutter just by locking your eyes to his dark and weary gaze. He wanted to stay with you forever, and he told you so many times he would. But he lied, as much as he wanted to have you, he was terrified.

I said some things that I should never say

You looked at him in pure shock. The words that left his mouth ringing in your head made you shiver and shake.

“I hate you !” He said, looking down at his feet. He pressed his lips together before looking at you with tears in his eyes. You didn’t know that it was possible to see The Darkling crying, but today was the first and the last time you could see that. He took a step forward, approaching you with his powerful presence and body, while you got scared and got your back touching the wall.

Yeah, I broke your heart like someone did to mine

“I hate how you make me feel, I hate that you have so much power over me. I love you but I can not do this anymore. Everytime I look at you, I feel weak, when everyone thinks I'm the most powerful Grisha in this world. I feel that way because I’m constantly scared that someone is going to kill you, or take you away from me. So today I decided that I’ll be the one taking you away from me, I want you safe, but I can’t love you anymore if I want this.”

Tears were rolling down in both of your eyes. You felt your heart shatter, how could he tell you that after all this time ? You clenched your fists, letting a heavy silence in the room, before slapping him with all of your strength. He expected you to scream at him, run away from him, but definitely not the slap. Even though he knew you were strong, the ache on his cheek was not as severe as the pain in his heart when he shared these cruel words. Not being able to say anything, he saw you leave the room hastily, without a word, he knew he couldn’t have you back, it was his biggest mistake.

And now you won't love me for a second time

He left the room, wanting to go back to his quarters, but he decided to go outside for a bit, before locking himself in his room. After leaving the tall walls of the Little Palace, he saw your shadow walking towards the near forest of the building. He imagined rushing towards you, yelling your name, trying to find the best excuses of the world to have you back, but he just couldn’t. He already broke your heart, he was sure that he would do it again if you accepted his apology. So he just looked at you going far away from him. His mask broke, tears were rolling down his pale cheeks, he closed his eyes and tried to dry them, in vain. He wished you could love him again.

I don't know why I run away, oh, girl

Said I'll make you cry when I run away

Girl, take me back 'cause I wanna stay

Save your tears for another

I realize that I'm much too late

And you deserve someone better

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #reader insert #the darkling x reader #the darkling #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #aleksander kirigan #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #shadow and bone x reader

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theonewholivesinthemovies · 8 months

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So in vigilantes, I love the banter that aizawa and present mic have. I wanna try and write what aizawa’s first day as a teacher was like.

————————————————————

Aizawa: “I didn’t apply because you asked me. Nezu asked me.”Mic:

“mmmHHHHMMMMmmmmm And who else has been asking you for years?? Hmmmm?? C’mon aren’t you EXCITED to work with me?” Mic taunted

I dread my productivity rates with you being around constantly. Quite simply not rational.

Mic: “Not rational cuz I’m gonna be distracting you ?” He fluttered his eyes. Putting both of his hands under his chin, his yellow shades sliding down slightly to look down at Aizawa’s slump.

yeah because you never shut up”

NOPE! BECAUSEEEEE you are gonna see me all the time and realize how much ya love meee and teeeaching and Midnight and Vlad and -

His Apple Watch started ringing. “OOP! Gotta run can’t be late on your first day there, Teach!”

Hizashi poked his finger at his shoulder. “Can’t make that impression with your class!”

Before Aizawa could follow up his confused reaction by asking “who was vlad” and then resolving it wasn’t worth the effort to ask, Present Mic had dashed out towards the door, hair hitting the frame of the threshold on the way. Aizawa looked at the clock.

Dammit, he was right.

Mic: “gotta go dash!” He said, a stupid wide grin on his face. (He’s trying to say gotta go fast as a sonic meme but not quite landing it)

Mic was right. He had to go or else he would be 10 minutes late to being early by 15 minutes. Hizashi knew this. He knew this from when they roamed these same halls together. Dammit. “He DOES know we aren’t attached at the hip right?” Aizawa thought to himself. Too much work to focus on something so irrational.

And loud.

Why did it matter who convinced him to work at UA anyway.

It’s simply makes sense to teach the next generation to carry on efficient work. As much as he did at night, he knew better than most that one man cannot solve everything. Not even all might. Working with the same colleagues he has worked in battle with was strategic planning, efficient, and effective. Teaching was just like a fight.

“Yeah” he muttered under his breath, convincing himself.

Getting to the point of the lesson and knowing good team work. Trimming the excess was something he was good at. Regarding teamwork, Aizawa recognized he was garbage at English, (part of the reason he hated press conferences) which is where Mic shines, and even as annoying as vlad king is, he makes a great coach for driving results. He didn’t know press work like Midnight.

He started to feel small. Tunnel vision started suffocating him. This feeling choked him and made him feel useless, especially being so reliant on his eyes. He looked around from side to side to try to steady but to no avail. What was he doing here? Teaching? Working with kids? Was he worth anything to guide students?

In 2 -3 - 4 hold 2 - 4 - 6 -7 Out 2 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8.

He stopped and caught his breath, like his mandated therapist from the agency suggested. The only thing that stuck. It was the quickest was to the parasympathetic nervous system and logically can shut down these unproductive thoughts.

The thoughts just like…

Like…Before oboro convinced him he really had a place here among the heroes.

He sniffed and shook he head, shaking out the past and emotions from this fight and hoisted the wrap around his neck to cover to his chin.

“Only rational to work as a team, just like they taught me. I have my strong suits, Mic has his.”

He thought.

He added, almost correcting himself subconsciously, “Err- everyone has their strong suit to teach at UA. You have to in order to work here. The primary objective is to make the best students into the best heroes to protect the future. Even though he preferred individual work, there was value in team effort, and this school called nothing but the best display of understanding your team and pairups.”

“Just rational.” His thoughts continued. “Nothing else. Even if I prefer to work alone, I can excel in teaching these kids that. Teach kids how to know themselves best so they can make a team even more powerful.” He smiled as he walked in to HIS classroom. Nobody could see that smile of course.

The classroom was already set up. He’d been in days before to make sure everything was spotless, seating tags in place, stocked supplies, including his sleeping bag and training clothes. He was nervous to break it out on the first day in case Nezu were to walk by, probably not a good look first day, but packed it before the shift tonight.

He walked around to inspect everything, and read through his class chart at the podium. He glanced at the clock on the wall.

15 minutes.

He turned on the police radio under the podium he had placed so he could spend a few minutes relaxing and planning his route for the night shift. That was much easier than what was about to come. After a few moments, when he turned to sit around at the desk, he noticed a sticky note on top of a pink retangle piece of rubber:

Hey Eraser,

You are gonna do GREAT!

If you want to, we can meet after your first day to talk?

-Zashi

His tired eyes flung open and burned from the sudden wind.

He flipped over the eraser and squinted to study it. There was an address on the back. A local coffee shop. His favorite local coffee shop, actually.

It wasn’t the invite to hang that was weird. This felt….genuine. Not over the top. Preplanned, not spontaneous. Zashi. Not Mic. Friend, not coworker.

They hadn’t been “friends” in so long. It pained him to admit it. Zashi had always tried to keep the friendship open but he…

He…struggled to reach out.

He worked late, woke up early to plan stings, worked out, was on call for police, and had 3 rescue cats and cactus at home.

He barely ate more than coffee, cigarettes, protein drinks, and takeaway.

Maybe Mic - Zashi, knew that? He wanted to reflect back on their relationship. He was taken aback by this small act. He felt perceived about his nerves despite…being himself.

How could he expect to attend to a friendship or relationship? That’s not what this job is -

He stopped himself. He had to remind himself of several lessons that were beaten into him on the significance of teamwork. That line of thinking was not going to get him anywhere.

He sighed.

There was no excuse. Zashi had always tried to keep the line open. Aizawa was the one who never followed up.

Maybe, this job would be good for him. Maybe he wasn’t as stable as he thought~

The door slid open

Ah. My first student.

#shouta aizawa #erasermic #aizawa shouta #bnha manga spoilers #mha vigilantes #hizashi yamada #mha fanfiction #mha spoilers #part 1 #part 1/2 #yamada hizashi #my hero academia

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justatinycollector · 6 months

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Thank you for the tag, @wyrd-syster!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Five! I'm a newbie.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

A humble 35,362.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I've only uploaded for The Rings of Power. A very, very, VERY long time ago, I started one crossover work between two other fandoms.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

#1: "swimming in the shallows"

#2: "if you're gonna play the game, you've got to learn to play it right"

#3: "crimson headache, aching blush"

#4: "exit light, enter night"

#5: "we could just kiss, like real people do"

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Try as I might, I can't seem to stop replying to virtually every comment I receive. It's a problem. I just...get so flattered that I want to thank people for spending any second of time reading words I strung together.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Angstiest? That's a tough call, considering the route my stories usually take. I'll say "exit light, enter night" because that one is by far the darkest.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I haven't written much with what you'd call a happy ending so far - my uploaded works tend to be on the darker side. But I'd say the happiest one would be "if you're gonna play the game, you've got to learn to play it right".

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've been fortunate enough to not receive any hateful comments on my work so far.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes! Not well, but yes. I usually write it with some darker elements thrown in. My beloved @thecoziestbean has told me that my smut perpetually leaves her in the following state:

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

My one and only (unfinished) crossover from LONG ago was a crossover. I am far too embarrassed to reveal what both fandoms were but...it was bad.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I have not. I think the AUs I write are either so specific that it's hard to lift detail or so general that I can't claim the details within them.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have not!

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No, but I have plans to co-write one with the lovely @bad-surprise.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Oh this is TOUGH. Not including Haladriel because it seems like a copout. I...really loved Dean/Lisa from Supernatural. Me and my doomed ships, I suppose.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

"crimson headache, aching blush" is one that I get so excited about but can't seem to nail down. The other one would be the musician AU that will most likely never see the light of day in full, though I have posted it in some promptfills on Twitter.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Sometimes, when I hone in on the right details, I can make those details come to life in a fairly compelling way. I also have been told that I can create an atmosphere of dread fairly well.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

There are so many I could name. I cannot, for the life of me, keep a concept alive for more than one chapter, so I've confined myself to one-shots. I linger too much on the wrong details frequently. My paragraphs aren't long enough; I separate my dialogue and supporting sentences too much. I reuse phrases and details and motifs like my work is my recycling bin. My dialogue is...boring? I think my work is fairly bland. I could go on.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Speaking just for my own writing, I'm not fluent in any other languages and therefore don't feel comfortable writing in a language other than English. In other works, I very much enjoy seeing other languages represented. I just don't feel that I currently have the ability to use other languages well in my own work. I hope that changes soon!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Okay, OKAY. I'll reveal ONE of the above fandoms. It was the Jumper fandom (originally a novel written by Stephen Gould, adapted into a 2008 film starring Hayden Christensen). You won't catch me dead revealing the other one, though.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

It's a tie between "swimming in the shallows" and "exit light, enter night". "swimming" is my first fic, and by far my best. Nothing I write ever seems to top it. It sings in all the right spots and just...works. "exit light" is not loved widely, but it is loved deeply, especially by me. I am so proud of it, of the ways that the translation from the original video game to a Haladriel AU worked so well and of the few, small details I was able to add that make it mine.

tagging @alicuntisms @bad-surprise @thecoziestbean @formerlyir @mostlydriedmango @sawdustandstardust @pursuitseternal and anyone else who wants to play! Please, understand how much I love reading these from every single author.

#hmm the fear of being perceived is real today

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lovesosweeet · 6 months

Text

better left unsaid // cth

chapter twenty three

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

september 4, 2018 los angeles, california orion

Being alive right now is exhausting. If I could, I’d sleep 10 hours every night, but the fact is, I wake up every few hours to throw up or with intense body aches that make it impossible to lay comfortably. It’s not comfortable to do anything, but it’s far too uncomfortable to sleep.

My body is at war with itself, or, I guess, with the chemotherapy drugs coursing through my veins. Just like I’m fighting for my life, my body itself is at battle, too. It’s an awful feeling to know that even my organs are working against me now, on top of dealing with being in a temporary long distance relationship. The blood coursing through my veins contains the evidence of my impending death, and the poison mixing with it is there to make my life just a little bit longer, but far more painful.

Sometimes I wonder if going through with treatment even matters.

Leukemia is a death sentence. There’s no way to sugarcoat it. Is it worth feeling like pure shit every day until I die? How much better is my life if all that I’m doing to extend it is also making me feel worse?

My mind is at war with itself too.

I can’t figure out whether I’m excited for or dreading the day that Calum and I reunite in San Diego. I am looking forward to having him as a support system in everything after dealing with this without him for over a month now. I am looking forward to getting to spend time with my favorite human being on this planet. I am looking forward to seeing his smile and smelling his cologne and holding his hand and watching him perform and hugging him as tight as I can.

I’m not looking forward to crushing him with the fact that I’ve been lying to him, by omission, about my life. I dread the look on his face when I tell him that I have cancer. I dread having to hear him fall apart while the fact that I’m dying settles in. Calum is going to be devastated, just like everyone else in my life has been. He’s going to be generally upset with me for not telling him. He’s going to wish I’d told him as soon as I’d found out and he’s going to go into recluse mode, mulling all the facts over in silence and battling all of his feelings about the news.

There’s still a piece of me that wants to call him right now and beg him to come home. What wouldn’t I give to have him here right now? In some alternate universe, he’d be taking care of me 24/7, coming with me to every chemo appointment and bringing me fresh water whenever I ask. He’d be up with me at all hours, holding my hair back while I vomit for the twelfth time each day. He’d have saltine crackers on autoship to arrive every few days. I wouldn’t have to do anything for myself and I wouldn’t have to do anything alone.

That’s one of the worst parts. While I’m in emotional turmoil with my choice not to tell Calum and him on tour and my body is processing both cancer and poison, I feel so alone.

Emelia helps. My family helps. Macy helps. People are showing up for me constantly, consistently, but the majority of my time is still alone. I wish I could talk about everything and have someone with me just to keep me company, but I can’t. I’m alone. I’m lonely. I’m dying. I’m depressed. I feel awful, mentally and physically. All I want is Calum, but everything I’ve done for the past month has been putting space between myself and him.

I’ve fucked myself over, plain and simple.

Today is my final round of chemo for this cycle, and while I know I’ll still feel like pure shit for a few weeks, it’s nice to have reached this mile marker.

I take my shower before I get ready to head to the hospital. I woke up at 5 am, puking a few times before giving up on trying to go back to bed. I took a long shower, standing under the near-boiling hot water for almost an hour. It was nice to feel something, even if it was the sensation of almost burning my skin with water.

Then my heart felt like the most fragile scrap of paper when I got dressed.

I’d gone to Calum’s side of the closet, as I have almost every day since he left, to grab a hoodie. It’s a random Liverpool football hoodie that he’s probably worn a grand total of two times in my presence, but it’s clean and it’s thick and cozy, so it meets my criteria. It doesn't smell like him, but it's not hard to imagine that it does. I can pretend it smells of faint cigarettes, coffee, pine needles, and honey: everything that reminds me of him.

As I grab the hoodie from his shelf of things, a piece of paper falls to the floor. Apparently it was hidden in the folds of the worn-out green cotton. I recognize Calum’s favorite blue pen scribbled on a scrap of notebook paper and pick up the note instantly.

O,I guess you’ve worked your way down the stack of hoodies. I don’t know how long it’s taken you to get to this point, but know that that means we’re that much closer to being able to be skin to skin, hand in hand, eye to eye, and heart to heart.

I know it’s hard to believe, since I’m writing this before I leave, but I swear to you: I miss you so much. I haven’t even left and I already miss you.

Fuck, how pathetic am I? Do you see my tearstains?

I am irrevocably and inconsolably in love with you. I will miss you any second of any minute we spend apart. I can only imagine — dread — how much I will be missing you by the time you read this.

I know hardly any of this will be news to you, but I can’t leave without having pieces of my love for you buried around our home. I’m guessing this will be the first you find, but hopefully you’ll find the others soon.

Can’t promise the others won’t be as sappy as this. Just need you to know just how much I miss you.

I am infinitely yours. With all my goddamn love,Cal.

next chapter

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #calum hood #fanfiction #ashton irwin #michael clifford #5sosfam #fanfic #imagine #calum x fem!oc #calum x ofc #calum fic #calum hood fic #calum hood fanfic #angst

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percabeths-blue-cookies · 5 months

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In My Heart Is a Christmas Tree Farm

Here’s the ao3 link

Summary:

Annabeth, Conner, and Travis plan on going home for the holidays, but Annabeth dreads having to face her parents and their opinions on her relationships, work, and just life in general. She intends on getting someone to go with her for the trip to pretend to be her boyfriend so she won’t have to suffer all Christmas vacation listening to her parents complain. That’s when she meets Percy…

-chapter 7

Annabeth wakes up the next morning still wrapped in Percy’s arms. She slowly grabs his arm and gets up. Setting his own arm back on his own body. She grabs her phone to look at the time. It says eight sixteen so she decides to let him sleep a bit longer.

She goes into the bathroom and brushes her teeth and showers. Once she gets done in the bathroom she exits back into the room and sees Percy getting out of bed.

“Morning sleepy head.” She says walking over to her suitcase

“Sleepy head? It’s only eight o’clock.” He says smiling

As he’s walking to the bathroom he grabs her arm and pulls her into a hug.

“You ok?” He says softly as she hugs him back

“Yeah I will be” she says remembering last night. “Thank you. For last night I mean. You really helped” she says looking up at him.

“Do you want to get out of the house this morning? Like get breakfast or something?” He says detaching him self from her.

“Yes please. I don’t think I can deal with any more of Susan’s annoying voice for the rest of my life.” She says laughing

“Okie dokie.” He says walking into the bathroom.

“Should we invite Conner and Travis?” Percy asks as he brushes his teeth.

“Yea I’ll call Conner” she says pulling out her phone.

She tells Conner and Travis to meet them at the diner in thirty minutes.

Annabeth puts on jeans and a black sweater.

Percy and Annabeth head down stairs. Percy grabs Annabeth’s jacket for her and his own then they walk out of the door.

As Percy and Annabeth walk through town it begins to snow again. Annabeth face is read from the cold and her hands are freezing. She puts them into her pockets and starts shivering.

They start walking faster so they can get out of the cold.

Eventually they get to the diner. It was pretty warm and cozy in there but Annabeth was still cold from outside.

As Percy and Annabeth sit down at a booth Percy wraps his own jacket around Annabeth’s shoulders.

She smiles a thanks. They order their drinks and wait for Conner and Travis to come.

They end up getting their drinks just as Conner and Travis come in. They sit down and order their drinks.

“Annabeth remember the last time we came here?” Conner says laughing

“Oh gosh don’t even remind me.” Annabeth says as she remembers.

“Wait what happened?” Percy says interested

“Well Annabeth-“ Conner starts

“Conner! No! It’s embarrassing!” she says laughing

“Annabeth was drinking chocolate milk, and then Lu-“ Conner starts to say again

“Then nothing, Conner. Nothing happened.” Annabeth says suddenly serious.

They sit in an awkward silence for a few seconds until the waiter comes to get their order.

After the waiter walks off, Percy grabs her hand under the table, feeling her anxiety.

Annabeth meets his eye to reassure him that she’s okay then turns her attention to her phone.

She opened Instagram and sees a poster that says “50% off of all items” for a sale at the local mall.

She shows Percy it and says “Wanna go? Maybe we could get some Christmas presents.”

“Sure. As long as you let me buy you something.” He says

“No, you already spent money on your flight over here, and you volunteered to come down here in the first place. Really Percy you’ve done enough.” She says

“Annabeth I didn’t even pay for my flight.” Percy says

“Who did?” She says confused

“My dad.”

“Oh. You never talk about him.” Annabeth realizes.

“There’s not much to talk about. He left before I was born. Only showed up when he wanted to. He turns out to be rich. And to make up for all the years he hasn’t seen me, he gives me money.” Percy says

“That’s terrible Percy. Why didn’t you tell me sooner.” She says suddenly realizing that she’s made this whole trip about her.

“Because you had your own shit going on and I didn’t wanna bother you about it. Plus it’s better with him and me not talking.” He says reassuringly

Annabeth doesn’t know what to say to that so she grabs her drink. Then she remembers that they have an audience.

“What’s been going on Annabeth?” Conner says confused.

“Dad and Susan.” Annabeth says

“Oh, duh.” Conner said

“Anyways me and Percy are going to the mall later if you two wanna come.” She offers

“Well I have a report I have to get done today so it’s a no for me.” Travis says.

“Yeah. And I’ve already done all my Christmas shopping. If I go to the mall I would end up spending too much money on nonsense.” Conner says

Then the waiter appears with their food and they dig in.

Finally they all finish their food and head their separate ways.

“so I figured we could start from left to right sides of the mall.” Annabeth says as they walk into the doors to the mall

“Orrr we could just go with the flow.” Percy says, grabbing her arm and pulling her along to a random store.

They shop around for a while. Running from store to store with arms full of bags, sounds way less fun than it actually is.

Eventually they get hungry and head to the food courts. As they wait in line they talk about what other stores they want to go to.

Halfway through the line Annabeth sees something hanging about her and looks up.

Of course out of all the other Christmas decorations in the whole place, they had to be standing here.

Right above them, was mistletoe.

“Hey look, it’s mistletoe. Percy says looking up too.

Annabeth can feel the heat rise into her face.

Somehow the space seems so much smaller than it was moments ago.

Annabeth knew that she wanted to kiss him. It’s just that she couldn’t. Especially not after what happened last time.

Percy slowly inches towards her. Annabeth looks over his shoulder and sees the line scoot up.

“Oh look it’s almost our turn.” Annabeth says quickly moving up.

She tries avoids Percy’s gaze the rest of the time.

They make it to a small jewelry shop on the corner. Percy pulls her into it and starts looking around. Eventually he stops. Looking over his shoulder she searches for what he’s looking at.

She follows his gaze and sees a beautiful coral pendent necklace.

“Can I see that necklace please?” Percy asks the man working at the shop.

When the man brings the necklace out, Annabeth gets a better look.

“That’s beautiful.” Annabeth says amazed.

“You like it?” Percy asks her

“Obviously someone would have to be blind not to like it.” Annabeth says obviously.

“How much?” Percy asks the man

“$150 if you pay right now.” The man says

“I’ll take it.” Percy says

After Percy pays they walk out of the store.

“Hang on a sec” Percy says setting his bags on a bench.

“Yeah?”Annabeth asks

“Come here.” He’s says

She walks towards him and sees what he has in his hands. It’s the coral necklace.

“Turn around” he says unclasping the necklace.

“Percy no. I thought that was for your mom or something. I refuse to let you spend that much money on me.” She says stubbornly

“Annabeth I insist. It’ll look really good on you. Plus didn’t you say it was beautiful?” He says with a smile.

She opens her mouth to refuse, but then Percy shuts her up. With his mouth.

Annabeth is shocked at what’s happening. They’re kissing. Like actually kissing.

As there mouths move against eachother, all her worries fade away. Eventually he pulls away. But only by a few inches. He’s still close enough for Annabeth to feel his breath.

“That’s what I thought wise girl” he says with a smile. Reaching around her to clasp the necklace behind her neck.

She can feel herself growing red. Then she comes back to her senses and rememebers that they are in a fully public place, she should not be acting like this.

“Whatever” she says to Percy smiling. They pick up their bags and walk to another store.

Eventually they finish their shopping trip and head home. Annabeth makes sure not to mention the kiss at all.

When they get to the house they set all the bags down in their room and unload everything.

Annabeth goes and finds the wrapping paper to wrap the gifts.

Once she comes back into the room Percy has all of his gifts and her gifts unloaded.

They start to wrap stuff. Then about halfway through Percy throws a price of scrap paper at Annabeth. Annabeth

“Hey!” She says throwing the paper back at him.

They throw paper back and forth and it turns into an all out dodgeball match on the floor of their bedroom.

Eventually they settle back down and start wrapping gifts again. Annabeth stomach growls and Percy notices.

“You hungry?” He says.

“Kinda.” She says setting down the gift she was wrapping

“I’ll be right back.” Percy says exiting the room.

Minutes later he enters back in with two cups of hot chocolate, a full plate of chicken nuggets with ketchup. And a tub of ice cream from the freezer.

“Thanks Percy” she says digging in.

They share the food and eventually make their way to the tub of ice cream. they eat so much of it that their stomachs hurt.

“Okay remind me never to eat an entire tub of icecream again.” Annabeth says laying on her back on the floor

“I’ll have to remind myself that first.” Percy says laying beside her

They put up all the wrapping paper and get ready for bed. Once they were both in bed Annabeth turns towards Percy, just like the last two nights. She didn’t know what to say to him so she waits for him to say something.

“Annabeth, why didn’t you want to kiss me under the mistletoe?” He says.

“Oh believe me, I wanted to. I just couldn’t” she says embarrassed

“What do you mean. You couldn’t?” He says confused.

“Um it’s really hard for me to talk about, but I guess I can try.” She says.

Percy nods for her to go on.

“Um a few years ago, when I lived here in town, I was good friends with this guy name Luke.” She says starting out slowly.

“He seemed like a really good guy. Something about him made me want to make him proud of me. I don’t know what it was.” She continues.

“He always seemed more into me than he did to anyone else. But it just wasn’t enough. So one day at this party I was flirting with him. I guess at some point he um-“ she says with her voice breaking. She realizes that she’s tearing up and she shakes her head.

Percy wipes a tear from her face and says “hey it’s ok. If you don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to push you.” Gently

“No it’s ok. I’m anyways, I guess at some point he slipped something in my drink. Because the next thing I know I was waking up in his bedroom.” She says slowly.

“I don’t remember going to his room or even leaving the party at all. To be honest I barely remember that night at all.” She says shaking her head

“He must have done something to me because the next day he couldn’t even look at me. Every time I tried to talk to him he shut me down.” She meets Percy’s eyes

“I realized too late what he had done and there was nothing I could do.” She says finally. A single tear escaping her eyes.

“Hey it’ll be ok.” Percy says pulling her against him and holding her tight.

Annabeth is so overcome by emotion that she can seem to move. They stay like that for seconds, maybe minutes, maybe hours. But somehow Annabeth falls asleep.

#in my heart is a christmas tree farm #percy jackson #pjo #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv #percabeth #percy jackon and the olympians #rick riordan #walker scobell

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lolamarlowe65 · 1 year

Text

𝓘𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 //James Hetfield

“The house next door was just sold, i hope the new neighbour will be nice.”

part five of ? part four

disclaimers : smut, age gap (modern day james), slow burn shit, cursing, smoking, drugs (legal where she is), probably drinking, big girls shit baby dni

Wattpad link

࿓ 𓋪・𖧹 𖤐

Chapter 5 - The package

I woke up early this morning.

I was supposed to work but Pamela called me telling me she will not open the pharmacy today. Apparently, she got some personal problems. Well, it's cool, it gives me more time to take care of my grandmother.

When I see my half naked body under the blanket I remind myself about the sudden act of lust that came over me last night. I couldn't control it. I needed it. I was meant to do it. James has bewitched me in a way. I never had such sexual desire.

Opening my curtains, I remind myself about what I saw last night. His back, his tattoos, his arms. All of which led to this lewd moment of mine. It's so toxic of me to have watched him like that. A little more and I would have seen him completely exposed. I'm not like that. But I did it anyway. And I kind of regret not seeing more. Fuck.

Still, I want more. I want him. Completely. I don't know if i can leave this being a lingering thought in my mind. I shouldn't do anything about it. But I want to.

I get back to my mind and go to take a quick shower. I dress in some flare pants and a rolling stone shirt. When I got back to my room I heard some loud noises coming from outside. I hope my grandmother is not still sleeping, I would be mad if her sleep was disturbed. James or not.

I looked out the window. The workers were still here moving stuff in. I stayed at my window a little more hoping to see James. I notice the garage on the side of the house is open. I can't see clearly because it's a little bit far but there he is. I froze. He was in those usual beautiful black jeans. In a tight black motörhead shirt. The morning sun was creeping on him and made the outline of his biceps so obvious.

Those arms.

Lust or love. I don't know. I truly don't. But I can't keep away. Every inch of him, all of which makes me feral.

He is working on his Camaro. I wish I was a Camaro.

"- Ann! Sweetheart!" my grandma yelled.

I snapped out of my thoughts and got downstairs to my grandmother's room. She was not here.

"- Grandma?!" i yelled back.

"- I'm in the kitchen my love." she replied.

I got to the kitchen and saw her.

"- Grandma! Hey!" i said, reassured.

"- Can you make me some coffee sweetheart? My leg hurts me too much I can't stand up." she asked sweetly.

"- Of course grandma. Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

"- You seem to sleep so much better these last few days darling. I want you to get as much as you can." she replied.

I know why I sleep better. My mind is occupied with James so much, the sadness that fills me generally due to my mother's death has slowed down. I still feel the worst. I miss her so much. But I see a little bit of light and peace thinking about him. My interest in him gives me hope for myself and for seeing more of this life I've been leading blindly the past few years.

I go and make coffee for my grandmother. I also prepared some oatmeal for her.

While the coffee is warming up I go and hug my grandmother from the back. I take her shoulders between my arms and I look over the journal she's reading.

"- A war. Inflation. Economy is falling apart. Our army is killing people in the middle east. Jimi Hendrix is still dead. The usual." i say. "How can you read such dreadful words?"

"- It reminds me to live every minute fully and to never think too much about anything sweetheart." she replies, grabbing my arms sweetly. "Which is something you should learn. If there is one thing you should get out of the last few years, it is that life is too short and you should do just what you want to do my dear." she added.

"- But what if i what i want to do is badly seen, or badly interpreted?" i say, doubtedly.

"- Well, to hell with everybody's mind. You and the people you are doing that with are the only ones that know what is going on sweetheart."

She takes my hand and I understand she will not change her mind about this. She seems like a sweet old lady but don't fuck with her. She'll beat you up. But I know deep down that she's right. I just don't know how to proceed it.

I let out of my grandmother's grip and got her coffee on the table.

"- The noise of the neighbour didn't bother you?" i ask.

"- No. Everything's good, it's normal to make noise when you move in darling." my grandma answers.

We eat some breakfast together and my grandmother then say.

"- Sweetheart, my birthday is coming up soon. Me and Stacy invited all my friends, I also invited Pamela and her husband. I think we should invite James too." said my grandmother excitedly.

James? Huh yes, no. I don't know.

"- Do you think he might want to come over? Such a nice gentleman, I would love him to be there." she continued.

"- I'll ask him when I have the time, grandma." i replied.

I was paralysed at the idea of seeing James again. Mostly to invite him to my home.

"- Oh honey, I feel that he is exactly how I remind him. A sweet, nice young man." she said.

Young man? He is way younger than my grandmother, that's for sure. She could be his mom. But to me he is a middle aged man. He is in his late 50s if I remember. You would think it is a good enough reason for me to back down from my dirty and romantic thoughts about him. But no. If so, it makes it more exciting. I don't know what I would have felt if I met James when he was younger. But something in me tells me I would have had the same reaction. That it's not about his age but who he is.

"- Well, i'll ask him when i see him." i tell my grandma.

"- I'll ask him too if i see him." she replied.

Now I'm sure he will be invited.

After breakfast, my grandmother asked me to help her get to the backyard. She wanted to go take care of her flowers. My grandma settled herself in the yard and started gardening. I sat down on a chair next to her. I light a cigarette. I need it. The noises from earlier were not here anymore. Perhaps the workers finished moving in James's stuff. I wonder if he is still working in his garage.

"- These flowers are so gorgeous sweetheart. Those dahlias remind me of your mother. Oh. And those hydrangeas remind me of your grandfather. And you. You are a dandelion. A beautiful bright dandelion my love." she said sweetly.

The dahlias did remind me of my mother. They were her favourites. They also were the last flowers I gave her before she died. Every time I go to her grave I put on dahlias. I'll get a tattoo of a dahlia one day. I take a drag of my cigarette, those thoughts making me more sad than anything.

A voice approached behind me.

"- You have a beautiful garden France."

I turned around and knew it was James. His voice was just too mesmerising to be forgotten. He was holding a package in hands. He smiled at me.

"- Hello Anna."

"- Hey... Mr Hetfield."

It was of use to use his last name since he decided to drive me crazy calling me by my full first name.

You could access our garden by a little path on the side of the house, not only by the inside. James probably heard us in the garden and came by the path.

"- A package for you was delivered at my place, the number of the house is badly written, they must have thought it was for me." continued James.

My grandma turned around.

"- Oh that is so sweet of you. You can put it on the porch. Ann will take it in a minute. Thank you." she said to James, happily.

The light was still doing a wonderful work on his biceps and his shirt still shaped his shoulders so beautifully. He put the package on the porch and came back to the conversation.

I helped my grandma get up from her flower patch. I'm pretty sure she wants to ask him about her birthday party.

"- Anna, you remind me of those beautiful dandelions your grandmother has right here." he said.

I froze. I was red. How did he know? Or why was I making him think of dandelions? And did he just call me beautiful? And again, my name.

"- And France, you are as bright as those peonies." he laughed lightly.

"- Oh James dear, don't make me blush." my grandma laughed. "How is the moving going?" she then asked.

"- Pretty well. I was just tidying up my garage. The car needed some work." he replied.

"- This beautiful Camaro?"

"- Yes. I've always loved this car." he continued.

"- You were just a little thing when this was made James. But me. I saw it when it was just out. Oh, one of my ex-boyfriends had one. A gold coloured one. He was an ass but i loved his car." she reminded.

James smiled at my grandma, loving her story.

I haven't said a word. But James gives me some quick looks and smiles here and there while talking to my grandma. I do too. I don't know why he does it but I know why I do it. Because he looks so magnetising. I feel like a teenage girl having her first crush.

"- Oh yes. James. My birthday is coming up soon. I would like to invite you and your wife over. I am organising a little gathering." my grandma exclaimed.

I know my grandmother just said wife because she wanted to know more about his situation. What did Stacy tell me already? Argh I don't remember. But he must be seeing somebody. There's no way he is single.

"- Well actually I'm single. I don't have a wife. Not even a girlfriend." James replied, passing a hand in his hair.

Oh my god. This doesn't make it easy for me at all. What do you mean he doesn't have somebody in his life??! A man looking like him. With such a charming aura? I smiled shyly at James trying to proceed with everything my heart was telling me to do that my morals were not loving. He noticed it and smiled back. I hate this game of cat and mouse, mostly when I don't know which one of them I am. I hope deep down that he catches me.

"- But I do have time in the next few weeks before the big rush with the band. I'll come gladly. Do you need me to bring anything?" he then asked.

"- Just bring your handsome face James that's all!" my grandma replied with a smile.

My grandmother talks to him like she would talk to a little boy. I mean he could be her son but it startles me a little. She doesn't have her daughter anymore, I guess she misses those kinds of light talk she could have with my mom.

He laughed.

"- Alright, I'll do my best." he then said. "Well ladies, I need to get back. I've got a studio session with the boys."

"- I'm glad you are doing well with your music Mr. Hetfield. I hope Lars is not as childish as before." she added.

"- How do you know that France?" James replied, chuckling.

"- Well, you came into the store I was working in when you all were younger. In 84? I think. You were as nice as a gentleman as before and Cliff and Kirk were just sweethearts. But Lars looked like an hyperactive kid your mom obliged you to take out." she laughed. "I always wondered if he was into some kind of drug or if he was just naturally like this." she smiled.

I was so out of the conversation. Who the fuck were Cliff, Kirk and Lars? Probably his band members, yes, but who does what in this fucking band? I don't know.

"- I should have remembered such a nice lady like you ma'am!" James said nicely. "But unfortunately Lars is always like this. I'm sorry you had to see that." he laughed.

This Lars seems like a grandiloquent character for sure.

"- Have a good day France." he waved at her goodbye.

His eyes locked into mine.

"- Beautiful day to you too." he suspended. "Anna."

"- Bye Mr. Hetfield." i reply.

I'll call him Mr. Hetfield until he stops calling me Anna. Actually I don't know if I want him to stop. And I truly love his last name, so I don't think I want to stop either. He smiled at me one last time. I thought he was cute.

We got back inside the house. I took the package on the porch. I didn't notice at first but on the package for my grandmother was another little one with just written "Anna" on it. I knew it was from James. I put it away quickly in my room before going back down to open the one for my grandmother. It was some gardening tools for her flowers. She needed new ones and couldn't walk too much to get to the store so I decided it was better to just order them. She was ravished. She used them the whole afternoon and made sure her flowers were in good shape. We then ate dinner and she got to bed early. I wanted to get to my room and listen to music and clean up a little. My grandmother's bedroom is on the first floor. The walls of this house are thick so I can listen to music without bothering her. On the second floor there was only a bathroom, my room and my mother's but nobody was allowed in it except me and my grandma.

I got to my room and saw the package from James on my bed. I open it and get a cassette out of it. It's a cassette of the Doors. L.A Woman. With an autograph of Jim Morrison on the front. A little word was left in the package.

"To Anna : "I found this in my music collection, I thought a Doors type of girl could have better use of it than me. I hope it will give you one of those beautiful smiles you have the secret of." - James."

Fuck. I lay back on my bed with the cassette and the word in my hand that I hold above my head. I'm blushing so hard. So he did call me beautiful earlier. What is going on? Why does he make me feel so confused? Why does it look that he is having as much of a hard time as me to hold this tension between us. If so, he seems to manage it less well. Am I giving myself ideas? No. Yes. Fuck this shit man. I want so much of him. But I mostly want to know him more, in every field. I'm all flustered and blushing. As much as when I humped my pillow thinking about him last night.

I put the word on my nightstand and I got up to get to the cupboard in the corridor. It's where my grandma keeps some of the stuff she used when she was younger. I know there is a cassette player from the early 70s in here. I'm sure the cassette will fit in there.

Got it. I go back to my room and play the cassette. It starts playing and the sound is old and cracky. Just like I want it to be. I decided that i wanted to smoke weed, i know i've got a joint left in my nightstand's drawer. I get it and light it. "Love Her Madly" my favourite song, starts playing and I can't help but dance incoherently in my room. It's like the world disappeared. I dance while smoking and the only thought that came to me was James. Him holding me by my waist while I dance would be the perfect addition to my little party. I wish someone would love me as madly as Jim describes in this song sometimes. When my mom was alive I thought so much more of romance. Today I didn't. Nobody picked my interest. Until James.

I picked up the cassette packaging with Jim's autograph on it. That's the most thoughtful gift we've ever made me. Jim Morrison truly is my favourite artist. I never thought I would touch something that he also touched. It's such an important piece of memorabilia, and James gave it to me so easily.

I think that my mom would love to see me all flustered and blushing like that. I think where she is she loves to see me smile. But mom I'm sorry, I don't know if you'd love the person for whom I smile. Actually, she probably would.

James lingered in my thoughts for so long. And I kept on dancing. Until the last second of this cassette. I am a bit high but I'm still conscious about what I'm doing. It's like my whole world has ended but I just kept on dancing.

I get up and put the cassette in a place where I can see it all the time. I go to close my curtains. If James wanted to watch me have my little party, he could have. They're is a dim light in his room. I wish he was here in front of me, like yesterday.

"- Goodnight James, I loved your gift." i said to myself, smiling while closing the curtain.

࿓ 𓋪・𖧹 𖤐

A/N : I want james to call me a dandelion. Chapter 6 is ready, this is where it starts getting interesting. ;) XOXO <33

#james hetfield #james hetfield fanfiction #james hetfield smut #metallica #metallica fanfiction #metallica smut

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