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another-clive-blog · 2 months

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I voted to marry the boy, could you write him being incredibly smitten with one Emmy Altava? (I would take any Clemmy really, but Clive MUST be head over heels for her)

SORRY FOR THE DELAY !! My sincerest apologies, this week has been kicking my ass-

This was hard to write, because I'm bad at shipping and also I don't know the first thing about Emmy ? She works with Layton and is gorgeous, that's it :'D I did ask some friends who told me about a camera ?? So I tried to like. Work from there

ANYWAY !! AU where Emmy works at Clive's newspaper as a part-job on top of her adventures with Layton ! She is a photographer and 20-year-old Clive is a writer. Also this is Unwound Future Canon-compliant (kinda ? It works from Clive's perspective). This is teen, comfort no hurt, fluff, and entirely written from clive's POV

Emmy fans I apologize in advance if I didn't do your girl justice, she is gorgeous and I want to get to know her

Clive remembered that fateful day- not the day it had all started, of course, but the day his whole plan had been thrown off the rails.

It was a day just like the others- or rather, it would have been, had his article not been rejected. He had been working at the newspaper for two years now, ever since he'd graduated at age 18 : two years, and not once had one of his articles been refused. All of his work had always been met with approval at worst, congratulations at best- nothing less.

But not this time. The direction hadn't said much about this outrageous event, simply something about his article needing more work, apparently. This usually wouldn't bother Clive : failure was a part of life, and he forgave those poor souls for failing to perceive the greatness of his work.

And yet- this was a problem. Clive had asked to be granted access to informations about the Incident ever since he started working here, and his request had been denied every time. He had to prove his reliability first, they said, show them that he hadn't taken the job just to get his hands on classified files. It was annoying, truly : of course he had, but proving otherwise was tiresome.

But now, with this failure... Was his progress going to fade away ? Could he still hope to get these documents soon ? Or was this the faux pas that would cost him his prize entirely ?

Clive sighed, putting that traitorous piece of paper back on his desk : he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

What should he do now ?

"Well, that's a sad face if I've ever seen one," a voice commented in an extremely helpful way. He didn't recognize it, mostly because he couldn't be bothered to learn his colleagues' voices or names- mostly because they kept coming to annoy him at the worst possible time. Which was all the time.

"Could you please leave me alone for once or is it really too much to ask ?" Clive knew that he didn't sound very pleasant or respectful, but that was literally the last of his problems. Besides, he had isolated his desk from the rest specifically because he didn't want others to come bother him.

"Pretty sure this is the first time we meet. At least, I don't remember seeing you before. Are you new too ?" She replied, and she really wasn't leaving, was she ? Then again, if she was new here, she probably didn't know that he wasn't here to make friends.

He opened his eyes.

The first thing to catch his gaze was the odd yellow dress, a strange outfit to wear in a place like this : she looked like an adventurer, not a journalist. There wasn't any dress code to meet in order to work here, but still...

Then again, she did have a bow tie.

"I've been here for two years," he deadpanned. She seemed nice and that was good for her, really, but he wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. "Welcome to the team, I suppose."

She smiled. It wasn't bright like a sun or sweet like chocolate, but it was rather something authentic, that she had worked hard to obtain and preserve. This was the kind of smile that would inspire tons of stories and articles- at least to someone really passionate about this job.

Clive wasn't. He wasn't here to change the world or make friends, he was here to get these classified files that would hopefully help him move on.

"Thank you," she said, before putting one hand on his desk and leaning forward : Clive pushed his chair back a little. "Say, since we're a team now, do you mind telling me why I've never seen you hang out with the others ?"

Oh wow. Alright, no little mind games- just straight to the point.

That really was new.

"Well," Clive muttered, looking away, "I have work to do."

She tilted her head slightly, his answer only making her more curious. "And they don't ?"

Was this some kind of test ? Clive couldn't perceive any ill intentions behind this question, but it didn't sound all that mundane either. What was she at ?

"Of course they do," he explained himself, "But this is important to me, and-" Actually- why was he even telling her that ? She probably didn't care, he didn't care, this whole discussion was useless : he had no reason to keep it going. "And my article just got refused, so I have even more work to do." He said abruptly, hoping to end the conversation.

She didn't go away. "Oh really ? That sucks. Want me to take a look ?" She offered, as if she wasn't new here.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not sure you can help much," Clive said coldly. He wasn't in the mood for this. "I mean, you're new, and a photographer, so this may not be your-"

"Nonsense !" She put her hands on her hips, the same smile on her face. She had listened to approximately none of his reasoning. Stubborn, Clive thought. Stubborn and very confident.

"I may not write the articles, but I know how they work," she said. "Also, I have learned a thing or two from Layton."

Clive froze. Layton. The professor Layton ? The one who had saved him as a kid, the man who was his model, his inspiration, his-

"Hey, this article is about him !" Quick as a fox, she had leaned over his desk and grabbed the piece of paper : her eyes were done scanning through the first few paragraphs before Clive could even react.

"Wh- where are your manners ?!" He yelled at her, blushing furiously. Alright, that was it-

Pushing his chair back, he quickly made his way around his desk, reaching for his sorry excuse of an article.

She dodged his poor attempt at taking back his sheet of paper with no effort whatsoever. "This is pretty good," she said, talking about the paper rather than his embarrassing fight.

Clive was a clever man- that's why he decided after yet another vain attempt that he couldn't win. Somewhere in his mind, he noted that she had to truly be an adventurer of some kind : she was surprisingly strong, agile and terribly efficient, unbothered by someone like him.

He reluctantly gave up his useless fight, taking a few steps back and crossing his arms instead. "Not good enough, apparently," he spat, glaring at her. She had no shame, no hesitation, no weakness- who even was she ?!

"Yeah, I can see why," she nodded, and Clive was once again baffled by her ability to say honest things without any hard feelings behind it.

"Your article is good, but you forgot the presentation," she explained, stepping closer to better show him : this proximity made Clive agitated, although he wasn't sure why. "You talk like everyone knows Layton, but that's just not true- especially since you're dealing with his first ever adventure. You have to keep everyone in mind, not just the readers who are as knowledgeable about this subject as you are."

Clive choked. "I-I'm not-"

"Hey, I could give you a good photo of Layton !" She interrupted him with a smile. "That way, everyone would know who we're talking about."

"Yeah, about that- do you actually know the professor ?" He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her up and down. She didn't seem like the kind of person the professor would frequent, bow tie or no bow tie.

"Of course !" She said, before her voice took a challenging intonation, "What, wanna bet ?"

Clive scoffed. She was being ridiculous- this was probably all an elaborate plan to make fun of him. He could absolutely picture his colleagues telling her to prank him as some sort of initiation ritual, actually. She certainly was almost as annoying as they all were.

But she may know the professor. "Sure," he finally said. "If you can take this photo and bring it to me, I'll buy you a coffee tomorrow."

"Wow, hey, don't ruin yourself for me Tiger," she sarcastically said. Tiger ??

"Wha-"

"Alright, I'll come tomorrow by your sad and isolated desk to give you the picture," she decided. "I love proving I'm right, almost as much as I love drinking terrible coffees with rude co-workers."

"Are you serious-"

"See you!" She cut him off with a provocative grin, again, and left without listening to another word he had to say, again.

Clive watched her go in silence, furious. Who did she think she was ?! She had been here for what, a couple hours, and she just came up to him like that ? He hoped she had annoyed everyone else too : that way, she'd get fired sooner rather than later.

The thought did make him feel better, and he sat back in his chair, enjoying the calm of the small room where stood his isolated desk. If he focused hard enough, he could hear her laugh with others in the next room- but he couldn't, because he didn't care enough to pay attention.

So since he wasn't listening to the sound of her voice, it was silent. And enjoyable. And lonely- which was good, because he hated having to deal with others. Especially her -what was her name again ? Not that it mattered-, because she was so rude and straight-forward and confident. Really confident.

Nevermind.

He picked up the article, looking at it thoughtfully. He needed this article to be accepted, and he needed it to be his best work yet : it was the only way to prove he was worthy of the reputation he had built for himself, and, most importantly- the only way to get what he wanted, the Truth.

...Presentation, uh ?

-_-_-_-

Surely enough, the very next day, Emmy came back to his desk with a brand new picture.

Professor Layton, sitting at a table, enjoying a nice cup of tea. He was smiling serenely, and his face held a bit of warmth, of comfort, of home.

"There you go !" Emmy said with a very satisfied smile, one that Clive wasn't ready to see this early in the morning.

He took the photo she was handing him. It felt recent and authentic : in fact, he could see yesterday's newspaper on the table, next to Layton's hand. It was crazy. There was no way they actually knew each other.

"Are you a paparazzi ?" He asked before he could stop himself. He shouldn't throw accusations her way in case she really was close to the professor, but what else could it be ?

"What ? No !" Emmy didn't seem to get offended- on the contrary, she stood proudly, hands on her hips. "I'm his associate !"

Oh.

Clive fell silent, his gaze wandering back to the picture. The professor was facing whoever had taken the photography : he was fully aware someone was here, taking this very picture. Had she asked him to smile ? Or was he just that happy to help his associate win a stupid bet and make a name for herself at her new job ?

Why would someone like the professor choose her as an associate ?

"That's odd," Emmy said with feigned naivety. "I recall you being a real Layton fan, and yet you didn't recognize the one and only Emmy Altava, associate of the great professor Layton ? Surely someone as knowledgeable as you should know this. I mean, it'd be pretty humiliating if you didn't, right ?"

He looked up, staring at her, and she stared him down with a provocative smirk, waiting for his answer.

Somehow, he... he wasn't mad. He didn't feel like angrily answering or starting a fight, which was relatively rare : maybe this was due to the fact that he knew she could easily destroy him.

Or maybe this was due to the fact that he really wanted to know what Layton had seen in her, now. "I'm not a Layton fan, and I didn't know he had an associate."

Emmy's smirk disappeared quickly at his admission, replaced with something that was almost disappointment. She hummed, looking at him strangely. "...This is really not as satisfying as you had me believe it would be. I was looking forward to crushing your little ego under my boot."

Alright- forget that. Clive scoffed. "Don't forget I have to buy you a disgusting coffee now, so we're stuck together for a few more painful minutes."

"Ah- I had indeed forgotten about that part," She admitted, scratching the top of her head. All of the antagonizing and taunting was gone, just like that, Clive noticed : how did she move on so quickly ? He never ever missed an opportunity to rightfully put people in their places. But she was already over it ??

Emmy -she did say her name was Emmy, right ? Emmy Altava- shrugged, coming to a decision. "Disgusting coffee is better than no coffee. Lead the way, Tiger."

He groaned. "Stop calling me that."

"Wait," she paused, and he stared at her while waiting for whatever nonsense she was about to spit. "...What is your name ?"

...You know what- that was fair. He hadn't told her, after all. "I'm Clive Dove."

She snapped her fingers, that same confident grin on her lips. "Great. Lead the way, Clivey."

Clive groaned before leaving the room without a word. Emmy followed him with a satisfied grin, very proud and amused by his pointless anger.

Clive walked faster, trying to hide the blush that crept on his face.

-_-_-_-

They didn't interact much after the coffee : in fact, they didn't talk at all for the next few days.

Clive would see her sometimes, or hear her. He heard her a lot : she had a booming voice, full of life and passion. Whenever she talked to another one of their colleagues, Clive would hear her contagious laugh, listen to her stories from the loneliness of his small isolated desk.

She was a great storyteller. Managing her effects, adding plenty of details, adapting to her audience- it felt real. Clive could picture her stories, her adventures at the professor's side.

This was exactly what gave him a new idea, bright like always.

He came across her in the corridor, while she was heading to get herself a coffee. "Oh- Clivey ! It's been some time, hasn't it ?"

He gritted his teeth. This was a bright idea. He only had bright ideas. "Ignoring that first part. I wanted to tell you something."

She didn't seem all that excited, merely eyeing him up and down like they were in a box ring. "What- you want me to prove you wrong again ? Cuz I can do that-"

"No, no," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why was she always so impulsive ? "I wanted to tell you that I submitted my article again, and the direction as well as the audience were really enthusiastic this time."

She seemed to relax, smiling instead. "That's great ! I'm happy for you."

"Also I added your name to it."

She... stopped smiling. In fact, she remained uncharacteristically silent, staring at him as if she was trying to see beyond his calm expression.

It was unsettling- deeply, extremely unsettling. It felt as though she could look at him and see everything he was hiding : his dead parents, his need for answers, his plan to get these files, his... his dead parents. There was nothing else he was hiding.

And yet, he felt his face go red under her scrutinizing gaze. Stupid, embarrassing shame.

"You helped me with the photography and the structure of the article, so it's only fair," he explained in a small voice, crossing his arms. He was not going to look at her. He was not going to meet her gaze and help her find whatever she was looking for. "And that's also why I'm here. I would like to offer you to- to work on a series of articles about the professor."

Clive still refused to watch her reaction, and it took another couple of seconds for Emmy to react : but when she did, she put her hands on her hips, leaning forward with a wide grin. Clive hated when she did that, it made him feel so small compared to her. She was also closer to him, which made him feel really... uncomfortable. And hot. "You want me to work on these ? With you, I suppose ?"

"Obviously," he scoffed, shrugging nonchalantly- or so he tried.

"...Why ?" She sounded concerned- curious too. There was something in her that wasn't sure about this project, and yet there was an even bigger part of her who wanted to get more out of this, to explore all the possibilities.

Clive couldn't care less about possibilities, or colleagues, or success : there was only one success that mattered to him, and it was getting these classified informations.

Which was exactly why he wanted to work with Emmy. Her proximity with Layton and, he'll admit it, her set of skills were perfect to help him reach his own goal. "Because you know a lot about the professor, and your stories are good material. Also, you could provide with pictures and- and presentation advices, I suppose. Probably," he muttered. She was still so close- should he step back ?

No, she would probably get offended. Oh well- he just had to keep standing inches from her, then.

She seemed amused. "I thought you weren't a Layton fan. Why are you asking me to tell you about him ?"

"He's a good inspiration for articles," he said, trying to sound professional- and why was he even trying ? This was professional. It was a professional setting. "Only an idiot would let this opportunity go."

"And you're not an idiot." She thought about it for a minute, before she shrugged : "Why not ! I'm here to create articles, after all. But first I need my coffee." She stretched her back before taking a few steps away, heading for her long-awaited beverage.

Clive felt... almost disappointed to see her leaving, but the unusual joy overcame it easily. She had accepted to work with him, they were gonna be a team- which meant that he was getting closer to achieving his goal. "Wait- want me to buy you a coffee ?"

She chuckled. "Don't ruin yourself for me, Clivey."

He didn't make any comment on the name.

-_-_-_-

Getting to work with Emmy was just delightful. She was as efficient as he was, both straight-forward in their criticism, always looking for ways to improve, listening to the other's suggestions before making up their minds. They made an exceptional team with perfect cohesion and excellent results.

Of course, the direction had noticed it too. Their articles were a hit among the newspaper's audience, even bringing in new customers : everyone was curious about this duo who wrote entertaining articles about some professor. It almost felt like fiction, and people liked to read these improbable stories that stood out from the rest of the usual news coverage.

The audience wanted more, the direction wanted more, and so Emmy and Clive logically decided to make more articles : day after day, week after week, they kept creating more and more stories, to the point that they would spend most of the day together- even the sacred coffee break.

"And that's how we found out that Descole really was behind all of this," Emmy finished her story, taking her cup of coffee in one hand. "I mean, I had my suspicions- but without the professor, I never would have guessed what was truly going on."

Clive nodded, absent-mindedly scribbling a few notes. His own cup had been left completely untouched, his coffee cold by now.

This detail didn't go unnoticed. "Cold coffee won't taste better, you know," Emmy joked.

Clive stopped writing, looking at his cup in silence.

Emmy frowned. "Hey, are you okay ?"

Clive looked at her, then at his notes. They were precise and neatly written at first, like always, before suddenly going... messy. Which was weird, because Clive hated messy.

"I just thought about something," he explained.

"Oh ?" She leaned forward on the table : her curious eyes were scanning Clive's face, waiting for any piece of information. Her coffee was left forgotten- it was disgusting anyway.

Clive brought his own cup to his lips, a poor attempt at hiding the blush on his face- because he was blushing, he knew that.

After all, this was exactly the something he had been thinking about.

It had taken him weeks to realize it. But surely enough, at some point, he had stopped listening to the stories and started listening solely to the voice telling them. He had stopped seeing work as a means to an end and started to look forward to seeing her in the morning, to sharing a coffee with her day after day.

He had even stopped caring about these stupid classified files. He would never stop being curious about the truth, wanting deep down to know what truly went down- but he could also portray his life in a world where he wouldn't get to know. Maybe he could never know, and still be okay, as long as he had another source of motivation.

Emmy. His work with her- scratch that. Just Emmy. He knew it was her and not these pointless articles : even the professor, his childhood hero, seemed to pale in comparison to her, recently.

He had wondered why the professor had made her his associate : now he knew, maybe even more than Layton himself.

"I was just- just thinking," he said, before taking a sip of coffee. It was cold, and bitter, and frankly disgusting : this newspaper should be able to afford better coffees, especially with all the records in sells recently. But this disgusting coffee allowed him to share a moment with Emmy, so maybe it was a bit okay. "About stuff."

"Very specific," Emmy mocked him, "Come on, spit it out !"

Oh, there was no way he was telling her. Admitting it -partly- to himself was already a big enough challenge. "I was- well, I was wondering if the professor was okay with us writing about his life."

Emmy rose an eyebrow, settling back in her chair. It really was just a game of getting closer and away, wasn't it ? "The professor doesn't mind. He is flattered someone is that invested in his adventures. He said he'd like to meet you, one day," Emmy simply answered, looking at him funny. There it was, that scrutinizing gaze that was looking for secrets, trying to uncover everything he wasn't saying- "But really, Clivey, we've been doing that for weeks. You only wonder about that now ?"

"I guess I didn't want this to stop, in case he was bothered," he simply said.

If Emmy noticed the way he passed up the opportunity to meet Layton himself, she didn't say a thing. "Ah, right. You're not an idiot, and you're not passing up any opportunities."

"Exactly," Clive said. He wasn't blushing anymore, so he put his coffee down- it was really too disgusting, anyway.

Emmy nodded. "We have enough for our next article. We should get back to work- you know, so you keep getting opportunities." She said this with a touch of humor, and Clive chuckled at it. It wasn't even that funny, but she had a way of making him happy that only worked with her : another colleague would have him rolling his eyes and spitting a distateful comment.

"Alright- I just need to go back to my desk first," he said, standing up and gathering his stuff.

In a fraction of second, Emmy was next to him. "Go get it, Tiger," she gently punched him in the shoulder. Uh, it'd been some time since she used that one.

"And Clive ?" She added. "I'm glad we took this opportunity. Together." And with that, she winked at him.

Clive stared dumbly at her, her words taking a minute to register : when they did however, he felt his whole face heating up in a way he couldn't possibly hide.

"I- uh- I mean-" He stuttered like an idiot, unable to form any thought. What did she mean by that ? Was this a friendly remark ? Or did she- did she also-

Was she also in love with him ? Because he was in love, madly. And maybe he hoped she was too.

He didn't know what miracle happened, but she left without any comments and he remained alone, his stuff in his hands and his heartbeat racing. He must look pathetic, being so red in the face and trembling because of a single remark. He was weak, weak for her, and what was left to be done ?

Luckily -a second miracle-, he didn't see any colleagues as he rushed back to his desk : if any of them had seen him like this, a trembling blushing mess, he probably would have no choice but to kill them.

Putting his stuff on one side of the desk, he himself dropped onto his chair, palms pressed against his face. Even now, even with his eyes closed, he could still see her beautiful smile, the way she winked at him-

No. No no no- he had to stop imagining stuff. There was no way she saw him as more than a colleague -a friend, maybe, emphasis on the maybe- and he would ruin everything if he couldn't respect her feelings on the matter. He didn't- he didn't actually need to- to date her- dating her, he was thinking about dating her and it sounded so wonderful, everything he could ask for, and-

No ! No, alright ? She wasn't interested, and he respected that. And he didn't need to date her, just getting to talk to her, to see her being so vibrant and passionate and confident, a real force of nature- just that was enough. He didn't need more.

He was happy with just getting to see her.

He dropped his hands, taking a deep breath. His heartbeat was still a bit fast, but it was returning to normal : even the red on his face was gone. It was alright. He would be alright, as long as he could keep things as they were.

And if he wasn't entirely satisfied with the way things were, if he kept longing for more, then it was his problem.

He opened his eyes, only to notice a white envelope on the middle of his desk. It... hadn't been there before. Who had put this here ?

Curious if not wary, he got closer and took the sheet of paper, turning it around in his hand.

On the front, he could read "Access to classified files granted"

#And then we get Emo king Clive with 'Oh no you don't' Emmy. Toxic Yuri my friends (Alright I'm joking I'm joking dw)#Also I know the end is an angsty cliffhanger and the beginning is more comedy than shipping but. Idk I'm bad at shipping #Emmy fans I would love to know how accurate I wrote her 👀 I literally rewrote this whole thing 5 times cuz it didn't feel right #So I hope this is the right one !! Although I did wonder if she would be around canonically. Or if she would work at a newspaper #I do feel like she drinks coffee tho. And Clive is fond of beverages so we're good =)#Anyway I'm rambling a lot ??? Point is- sorry for the delay and I hope you like it !!#Now I still have to finish my Big Bang outline. It is mostly done but I'd like to add an excerpt too. So I will probably post less here #Clive dove #Emmy altava #clemmy #professor layton and the unwound future #professor layton and the lost future #My writing #Ask

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showfallmanagement · 4 months

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[ This post was made using Showfall Media Video-To-Text--now with employee-differentiating color-coding technology! If you believe there's been an error and would like to end Showfall Media Video-To-Text, please say 'End transcript' or turn your recording device off.

[The footage begins abruptly, showing concrete floors washed in a blood-red glow. All around are the muffled sounds of heavy, monstrous footsteps and metallic screeches of countless Taskmanagers, sweeping the tunnels. Manager#0’s hand rises into view, and it is covered in blood, the spikes of metal protruding from the tips of his fingers bursting from the underside of all of them like extra, jagged teeth.]

[He lets out an unsteady breath, turning to face the other side of the room. A mangled corpse lays on the floor behind him, face turned away from the camera, but evidently not all in one piece, as shown by the full lower jaw laying disconnected on the floor a few feet away. Further away, another dark lump lays shattered on the floor, and another even further back than that.]

[But it’s not enough.]

Manager#0: [Quietly.] I just need to find that Mechanic, and then- then they- they can’t be too mad. Right? Not like last- This has to be his fault. It’s always just one of them- weaseling their way into- into perfectly loyal employees heads, and- and if I could just capture him, then- then- I’ll be okay. [Deep, shaky inhale, like he doesn’t believe it.] I’ll be fine.

[The tunnel is dim, and silent, save for the mechanical screams in all the others around it.]

[Someone rounds the corner, dark blue crowbar in hand, singing the song ‘Walking on Sunshine’ to themself. A smile is visible on their face that doesn’t quite reach their eyes as they turn to face Manager#0.]

[The camera jolts up. It’s a fucking miracle.]

Manager#0: Mechanic.

[Employee identified! Mechanic#12 {Maintenance Dept.}]

Mechanic#12: Hey.

[Mechanic#12 waves, before dropping his hand back to his side, seemingly not caring about moving his limb any more than for the wave.]

Manager#0: [Through gritted teeth.] I thought you gave up.

Mechanic#12: People change.

Manager#0: Wouldn’t I know it.

[Suddenly, the camera darts forwards.]

[As this happens, there is a whoosh, and a loud crack, as Mechanic#12 swings the dark blue crowbar in his hands at Manager#0.]

[The camera shakes as Manager#0 stumbles briefly to the right, the hit having connected with his side. Mechanic#12 goes in for another hit and he stops it, grasping it so tight his knuckles turn white.]

Manager#0: I’m done with your little routine. Get in, get out, get dragged back in again. You’ve been nothing but a thorn in our side for months- [He shoves the crowbar away, sending Mechanic#12 stumbling back and hitting the wall behind him with a loud thud. His voice is ragged.] -and I will take great pleasure in watching them hang you from fucking walls.

Mechanic#12: [Coughing.] Maybe I’ll see you up there, too. Considering you just let me light three separate areas of the mall on fire. What do you think HR is going to think of that?

Manager#0: [His tone doesn’t falter, but he swallows, audibly.] They’re not going to do that. I’m not like you. I’m not something they can afford to get rid of.

Mechanic#12: You still believe that? Damn, did they remove your brain or something? You’re expendable, the same goes for everyone else in this building. You just haven’t realized it yet.

Manager#0: [Slowly, he reaches a tattered hand up, tapping it on the HALO with a few metallic clacks as he steps closer.] Thanks to this, I’m not worthless anymore. Not like you. I still have a purpose here. Whatever the consequence is, for… [His voice trails off, and he swallows again.] I’ll take it in stride. I’m not a coward. Not like you.

Mechanic#12: How easy do you think it would be for them to just rip that thing out of you? Reuse it for some other asshole? They don’t care about you, they’d do it without hesitation. A pile of scrap doesn’t make you worth more than anyone, it just makes you a little more glittery.

[Manager#0 doesn’t say anything else. He just lunges forward again, digging his hands into either of his shoulders and wrestling him to the floor as blood starts to trickle from them.]

[Mechanic#12 keeps the same smile he’s had on his face since he rounded the corner, and makes eye contact with the camera, before biting Manager#0’s arm. As he moves his head back, wires can be seen somewhat off to the side. Mechanic#12 appears slightly disappointed.]

[Manager#0 just tears his arm away, and, in one quick movement, digs his fingers metal-first into the left side of Mechanic#12’s chest.]

[Mechanic#12’s eyes widen, and the smile almost fully fades within an instant, his jaw clenches tightly, and there is a small crack heard.]

[The fingers tighten, and then twist, like they’re wrenching something apart, and a loud crunch follows a moment later. When he pulls his hand back, there is a small bloodied fragment of something in it.]

Mechanic#12: [Glancing between Manager#0 and his chest.] Jesus–

[Manager#0 tosses the shard to the side, still holding him down with one hand while taking out a now very bloodstained mask and moving to put it over Mechanic#12’s face.]

[Mechanic#12 quickly reaches up with his right arm and grabs hold of the mask, attempting to yank it out of Manager#0’s hand. Visibly, his other hand tightens its death grip on his shoulder.]

Manager#0: Stop trying to make this more difficult than it has to be.

Mechanic#12: God, fucking KILL YOURSELF.

[Mechanic#12 rips the mask out of Manager#0’s hand and brings his other arm into frame, a dark blue blur is all that is visible for a second before the crowbar comes slamming into the side of the frame. He lets out a choked, pained sound, face jolted partially to the side by the force of the blow.]

[Mechanic#12, after seeing that this actually hurt Manager#0, immediately wedges the crowbar somewhere between the HALO and Manager#0’s head, pulling lightly down on the crowbar, the smile from earlier having returned.]

[Manager#0 goes completely still, and the camera almost shakes. No.]

Manager#0: W- No, no, wait. You- You don’t know what you’re about to- EDGAR-

[Mechanic#12 clearly barely registers the words being said, the look in his eyes animalistic, his expression so bloodthirsty he may as well have had fangs. His smile grows. He yanks the crowbar downwards.]

[WARNING: TRANSCRIPTION OVERRIDE: HALO HAS TAKEN A SEVERE HIT. DAMAGE IS PROBABLE. PLEASE VISIT HR IMMEDIATELY.]

[The red light flickers something awful as Manager#0 pulls himself away, leaving a splatter of blood on the concrete as he tears his hand out of flesh, stumbles backwards, grabs at somewhere behind his head and screams.]

[He falls back against the far wall, choking out an awful, guttural sound as he shakily brings a hand away from where the HALO is attached under his hair and finds it stained red, fresh red--and, mixed with it, a sickening black. The world blinks out of focus, rights itself, and then goes dark again as the light flickers. Blood a shade too dark begins to trickle down the sides of his neck.]

[And then, all at once, the Security in all of the surrounding tunnels, on all sides except above, begin to shriek.]

[He doesn’t react. He just curls into a ball against the dead end of this darkening tunnel and gasps for air, trying to steady himself against the pain. It isn’t working. The HALO blinks.] [WARNING. REPORT TO HUMAN RESOURCES IMMEDIATELY.]

Mechanic#12: That’s what you get, you fucking monster.

Manager#0: [Breathing in shakily. His voice is a frantic sob. It hurts.] I- You’re- You’re not above that anymore! You’re not above this! You aren’t- [His voice breaks as his head drops, god, please, it hurts, he’s sorry.]

Mechanic#12: [He grins. It’s horrifying.] I know, I’m just acknowledging that we’re one and the same.

[Mechanic#12 takes a few slow steps forward, before crouching down to Manager#0’s level. His right hand moves out to the side, and a long metal tendril with a claw on the end grabs the discarded object from before, returning it to Mechanic#12, who places it gently behind where he is crouched.]

[He reaches forward with both hands, wrenching the camera slightly upward with one and reaching forward somewhere below it with the other. The camera begins to shake again, this time much more violently, like something attached to it is being tugged on, and Manager#0 makes a panicked whine of a sound as there’s something between a loud crack and a pop. Mechanic#12 takes his hand away quickly, and he breaks eye contact momentarily to inspect something in his hand, before looking back up and showing off a freshly pulled tooth. He smiles, and places it in his pocket.]

[Manager#0 chokes momentarily on his own blood, gritting his remaining teeth to steel himself against another wave of pain and failing miserably.]

Mechanic#12: I believe we’re done here. [He stands, and walks further down the tunnel, grabbing something from around a corner. A bag.]

[The camera’s gaze falls abruptly back to the ground as his head sags under the weight of the crown on his head. There is no telling where his blood starts and the rebels’ begins.]

Mechanic#12: And to think I mourned you.

[He reaches into the bag and pulls out something, turning his back and tossing it over his shoulder. As soon as it hits the ground, a horrific orange glow lights up the room with an ear shattering sound. Manager#0 shrieks and drapes his arms uselessly above his head as dust and rubble rains down from the ceiling above.]

[He sits like that, trembling, as the HALO’s light flickers and wanes and his ragged, uneven breathing turns into quiet sobs for several minutes after the sound has dissipated. Taskmanagers still tear by in the tunnels around him, but the sound is much more muffled now, far away. Distant. Too distant. Slowly, agonizingly, he lifts his head from where it rests on his now bloodstained knees.]

[The way that the mechanic fled is blocked by rubble, now.]

Manager#0: No- [Coughing. Spluttering. He rises to an unsteady stand, nearly keeling over as he stumbles towards the fallen debris. His voice is thin.] No, no. No, wait. I didn’t- [He whines, grabbing his head as it throbs like there is something trying to claw its way out of it. The HALO shifts, just slightly, and he nearly falls over.] I can still win, I can still- There's- There's a way, there has to be a way to-

[He picks up his pace and practically slams into the rubble with his shoulder. Nothing budges except a few grains of dust falling from the ceiling.]

[He pauses for a moment before letting out a scream of frustration and slamming himself into the debris again and again and again, unintelligible pleas reduced to sobs as he scrapes and claws at the new wall, finally falling to his knees and breaking down in sobs amidst the shattered concrete and shredded drywall. He couldn’t do it. He failed.]

[A distant, metallic wail echoes down the corridor, much closer than before, and maybe he’s in his office again, and maybe it’s Adeline, and maybe it’s over.]

[He failed.]

Transcript has been ended. Thank you for using Showfall Media Video-To-Text! Posting... ]

#We're sorry for the delay in upload. If you continue to have problems with lag or inconvenient transcript loading times #please contact IT. This feature is still experimental and your input is greatly appreciated. Thank you!#blood cw #violence cw #sui mention #showfall ask blog #encoreverse #encoreverse blog

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echoingkarma · 8 months

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Now that Celestial Syzygy is over I notice I'm getting more comments of people just saying they read the whole thing and enjoyed it and stuff, sometimes they have more depth to them too, describing what parts / themes they like

Makes us really happy. Thanks to everyone who reads our silly little writings and looks at our silly little drawings

#karmas clown moments #not art #personal #things have honestly been really hard lately and we're just waiting #for support on it. 1 more week and then hopefully we'll have something #but it keeps getting delayed so its been a real struggle #and just being able to joke around with people or see people go #'hey! this thing you made is cool!' is like. oddly comforting and reassuring?#especially when so much of the struggle currently is coming from #'would there be a difference if we just stopped doing anything?'#sorry this is quite dark in the tags. we try not to talk about it too much but yeah!#thanks for all the little things that make us go 'we're not making a big change but we're still taking part'#i think ill try and write tomorrow

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heffrondriving · 2 years

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okay but fr the highlight of my day was going through my notes for the video post with katelyn being kendall's worldwide girl and happily getting to read everyone's cute wholesome tags and excited screaming,,, it's like we're all in the same room and hugging each other hehe ily guys 💕

#i'm still Not Over It btw. i'll never be over it bc i adore my blonde faves forever and big time rush really said jendall rights!!! >:3 #here i thought i was being too much on my own tags so imagine how glad i was to see that we're all on the same page about this!! (*＾3＾)/～♡#also challen cates excitedly dancing and embracing kendall and her meeting the boys lives rent-free in my mind...they really are family aww #(+ apparently victoria justice was there in their show too????? holy shit legends only???!?)#this makes me so proud to be a rusher with the loveliest tumblr community even in these trying times;; rlly wish i could hug u all irl :'>#also my wrist's in so much agony from repetitive strain injury that's why i haven't been posting but this is keeping me going!! hopefully #i could get back to getting edits done vv soon.....sorry for the current delays everyone and thank u for cheering me up even if indirectly #n e way. back to the grind [lays dead on my bed watching markiplier vids and limp wristing thru the pain until my physical therapy is due]#do pretty girl don't speak #btr #big time rush #will delete

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tardis--dreams · 2 years

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Only with deutsche bahn you can arrive sort of ON TIME despite having been promised a 3 hour delay ♡

#we're just gonna make 100s of people mad and wonder wtf is going on #just to let them find out the delay that was clearly associated with their connection on our website #actually is completely unrelated to them #aren't we funny hahaha hehehe #we're db and we HATE you and we will do everything to make you know just HOW MUCH we hate you #because we know you fuckers have NO alternative to us so we can do whatever we want and you'd still get onto one of our #ugly stupid trains several times a week because you have no choice #we're gonna make your life a living hell and you have to pay us for it *evil laughter*#also only got my second connection because the train was so late the delay of the train i was in #didn't even matter #sorry db i should not have doubted you #if there is a delay there will be one even more severe that will actually save you time ♡#i will stop with the #db hate posting #for today #more to come on Sunday #don't miss it #it'll be an epic fail once again

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sydmarch · 1 year

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oughhh there's NO info out there on bandcamp genius or sacred bones about additional credits for the album like who did what instrument and shit like there was for the previous albums w the physical copies..... do you think if I emailed them they would tell me....

#like im just so autistic about having all the details it IS crucial that the lyric booklet for tms told me who played the bassoon & who did #the backing vocals on little planet pig etc etc. why have you deprived me of this info for vol 2 #they probably know me by now considering how much fuckint STUFF ive bought plus all the emails back & forth when my package was delayed #& they were nice enough to hold it while i was traveling until i emailed them letting them know i was back #im still not over thatgod like 'sorry we haven't actually sent it out yet caleb still has the shirts so we're waiting to get them from him'#like oh ok. HE actually has the shirts so like its not just coming to me from the manufacturer or whatever but from him. i feel normal #anyways #texticles

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whorekneecentral · 4 months

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The Night Before Christmas

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Warnings: snow storms, delayed flights, slight disappointment, mention of a christmas miracle, hitchhiking - don't worry andrea is there for adult supervision, incorrect ski terms and whatnot - idk I don't ski, old ladies love joris, fear of flying/small planes, oral (f!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, cuddles in bed.

Word Count: 2,225

Author's Note: so sorry for the delay in posting this, I've been in a bit of a slump lately and im trying to get back on schedule with the posting, bare with me lmao

merry smutmas series

A massive snow storm delays Charles’ flight home for the holidays and you both begin to give up hope but a Christmas miracle occurs.

Christmas was a bit of a mess this year.

December 24th and Charles Leclerc was stranded in Italy with Andrea and Joris. Charles had gone because he had a Christmas event to do with Ferrari, Joris and Andrea had accompanied him but they decided to go up north and go skiing for the remainder of the week.

They hadn't planned to push it so close to Christmas and then the snow came down; the stupid snow which blocked the roads and left them stranded in the mountains of Italy.

You were a bit disappointed when your boyfriend called to tell you that he wouldn't be able to make it home in time for Christmas. You asked him if there was anything you could do and he told you because of the snow, he wasn't exactly sure when he'd get home.

Charles could hear the disappointment in your voice, and it made him sad to know that he wasn't gonna be able to be home in time to spend Christmas with you.

It was as if Andrea could read Charles' mind; "what?"

"We have to get out of here, we need to go home."

"I know," Andrea tells him, Joris looks up from his laptop, "everything is closed, the roads, the airport, like.. we're stuck."

Charles was nothing if not determined. He made it his mission to make it home in time to spend Christmas with you - bit of a tight task considering it was 10pm on Christmas eve. Nonetheless, he and the boys rallied up - not like Joris or Andrea had a choice - and followed Charles out of the ski resort.

They made it about 2 miles down the road trudging through the snow before they finally came across a ski ranger, the man on his way down the mountain to pick up something they needed on the resort. He was kind enough to let them get in, the 3 of them squished into the back seat as the ranger drove them down. Due to the snow, it took them triple the time to go down than it took to go up but it was progress nonetheless.

Once they made it to the town, they were at crossroads again. How are they going to make it to the airport?

It was a one step at the time sort of plan, if they thought too far ahead, they'd just give up.

Joris wanders into the one place that was still open, a little bakery that was run by the older couple that lived there and they had a grandson who lived not too far off from the airport. The roads were cleared down there but they had no car.

The couple happened to be closing up for the night and on the way to their grandson's, the older woman took a liking to Joris, holding his arm as he led her over to their car.

"Charles!" Joris shouts, waving his friend over. Andrea and Charles wandering over. "Yeah?"

"This is Maria, she and her husband are on their way to grandson's, who lives like-" "He lives five minutes from the airport, let us take you."

"Are you sure?" Charles asks her, as much as he wants to get home, he wouldn't want to put a sweet old woman out of her way.

The woman pinches Charles's cheek, "yes please, I cannot leave you out in the cold. Come, come." She tells him, Andrea helps the older gentleman put all the luggage into the trunk, the 5 of them getting into the car - Charles, Joris and Andrea squished into the backseat again.

The older gentleman, Joe, was just as sweet and welcoming as his wife. They told them stories from when they moved there, how they opened their bakery and their family. As much as Charles appreciated their kind gesture, he was wondering if maybe he should have offered to drive them to the airport.

At some point, an excruciatingly long 3 hour drive - Joe drove slower than most, they made it to the airport.

Maria rolls the window down, saying goodbye to Joris. The photographer holds her hand as she calls for Charles. "Make sure you come back! And bring your girlfriend."

"We will, thank you both so much. I don't know what I can do to repay you."

"Take us to the race next year," Joe calls from next to his wife. Charles laughs, "sounds good, I'll come back and bring your passes."

The 3 of them run into the airport, the boards in front of them display only one word listed to all of the flights - canceled.

Big, bold, red letters crush Charles's heart and his chances of getting home.

Joris pats his friend's shoulder, Andrea already one step ahead of them trying to see if they were anything they could get on to make it home in time - after all, he wanted to get home to his family too.

It's an hour of Andrea bickering with the very tired and annoyed woman behind the counter before Charles joins him, asking her if there was anything they could get on to go home.

The flight to France was 2 hours, he'd manage anything at this point.

"There's one flight, a small passenger plane. I'd have to ask the pilot first."

"Please," Charles says, "I'll pay extra if I need to."

After what felt like another hour the woman finds them and tells them to follow her; she checks them in, getting their passes to them before directing them to where they'd meet the pilot for their flight.

When she said it was a small plane, Charles was expecting small but not this small.

The plane looked like those water planes you'd take from the mainland to an island - it didn't hold more than 6 people.

Charles is just clinging to his seat, counting down the minutes until he can get off that plane. He feels his ears pop, the thud as the plane meets the runway in Nice and he's thanking every god out there for that. They thank the pilot, trying to figure out if they should take the train or just drive home.

None of them have a car at the airport and thank god, it wasn't snowing.

It was Christmas morning, the airport was a madhouse and Charles didn't typically do this but he did use his F1 status to get them a rental, he signed a few autographs for the staff behind the counter and they were off again.

The sun is peeking over the Monaco pier, Andrea drove them home because Charles was too antsy to drive. They dropped him off first.

"Thank you guys, really." He says, standing on the curb with his suitcase.

"We didn't have a choice," Joris tells him jokingly, Andrea nods. "Tell y/n we said Merry Christmas."

"I will," Charles smiles, wishing his friends well before waving them off.

It was good to be home; the man made his way up to your shared apartment, the lights off as you were still sleeping - your soft snores filling his ears as he quietly made his way to the bedroom.

You're tucked away under the covers, the blanket wrapped you up and kept you warm during a lack of Charles in bed. He knew you were a deep sleeper, the fact that he had accidentally slammed the door and it hadn't woken you was sign enough.

He stripped out of his clothes, making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. At some point he thought he heard you shift, he peeked out the door way to find you still sleeping.

Charles joined you in bed shortly after, his arm snaking around your waist, the coldness from the bracelet he had on startled you. Your body responded before you could, taking a second to gather your thoughts - the fight or flight kicking in.

He presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, the smell of his cologne and toothpaste filled your surroundings. "Charles, you're home," you whispered, turning to face the man.

You couldn't fully believe it, not after his call last night, telling you that he wouldn't be making it home.

Your boyfriend smiles, kissing your forehead. "I'm here."

"How?" You mumbled, moving closer to him. Charles's hand presses to your back, rubbing the bare skin softly. "It's a long story, for another time."

You hum, not really caring for the story at the moment. All that matters is that Charles was home and he was home for Christmas. You opened your eyes slightly, peeking at your boyfriend. Both of you wore the same sleepy look - you having just woken up and Charles after a long night of traveling.

You kissed his chin, the man hummed in response. You follow the structure of his face, moving from his chin to his jaw and up to his sideburns, down his cheeks and finally to his lips. Charles pulls you flush against him, his lips holding your hostage.

It had been a long week apart and you both missed each other terribly. Andrea often says you two are like high school kids, all young and in love.

Your arms wrap over his shoulders, pulling the man on top of you. Charles settled himself between your hips. Your boyfriend pulls away from your lips, much to your dismay and finds himself moving down to your neck, along your collarbones and to your chest. Now propped up on your elbows, you watch as your boyfriend's head dips, his teeth softly grazing your stomach on his way to between your legs.

Charles glances up at you and pulls your panties to the side. He was close enough that you could feel his breath on you, your head dropping back when his tongue finally met you.

You look down at your boyfriend between your legs; the man smiling up at you as his arms hook your thighs to pull down flat on his face.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. Charles’s hand on your hip rocks you back and forth slightly, just enough that he can hear his name fall from your lips.

Your hand rests on his cheek, “I can't believe you're home.” Your eyes meet his blue ones.

“I'm right here, baby.”

You pull him back down for another kiss. Charles’ hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressed to your clit. Your back arches from the sudden touch, moaning against his lips.

Charles smiles, his heart fluttering every time knowing he’s the one that reduces you to nothing more than a whimpering mess.

“Please,” you pull on his hair, “Charles.”

“What?” He asks, rubbing circles with his thumb.

You can’t help the whimper slipping past your lips. “Fuck me, please.” You ask sweetly and how could he ever say no to you?

Charles finds himself moving to hitch your leg on his hip, lining himself up with you before pushing into you. Your back arches and he gives you a second to adjust to him before moving. You’re biting your lip so hard, you probably drew blood.

Your hand drags down his torso, pressed against his toned stomach when you speak. “You feel so good,” you whisper, knowing you can’t speak any louder.

“Yeah?” He calls, hand slipping between the two of you.

Your red nails, painted for the holidays, digging into his skin, leaving matching red marks matching the colour of your nails against his pale skin. “Fuck- please yes.”

Charles doesn’t quit; his fingers rubbing on your clit, the other hand moving your leg from his hip to rest over his shoulder. Just when his ego couldn’t get any bigger, it did. The 16 hanging off the silver chain around your neck, sitting flat against your sternum.

He can’t help but lean down and press a kiss to it, in the process pushing your leg back. The sound that left your mouth was nothing if not music to his ears.

The sudden ego boost, Charles takes his chance to ask you. “Who makes you feel this good, amour?”

You’re trying to answer him but between keeping the same position and his excruciating pace, you couldn't bring yourself to answer him.

Charles asks again. “Who makes you feel this good, amour ?”

A strangled answer slips past your swollen lips; “You, only you Charles.”

The answer satisfies his ego, his focus is making you cum. His hips hitting the back of your thighs, your boyfriend has now moved your other leg over his shoulders.

“Charles-” you call, your eyes meeting his. He can feel the way you’re clenching around him, his hand moving back to your clit.

“I know,” he hums, “me too.”

A few more sloppy thrusts and both of you fall over the edge, one after the other. Charles kisses by your ankle before letting your legs down, settling against you between your legs still.

Passing a hand through his hair, you smile at your boyfriend; his eyes all droopy and a sleepy smile on his face.

"You're here," you whispered, he nodded and his stubble scratched against your bare skin. "I'm here."

You hum quietly, the sun shining through the curtains in the room, the two of you cuddled up in each other's arms.

"Shall we open gifts?" Charles asks and you shake your head, "they're not going anywhere, let's stay in bed for a bit longer."

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your soft skin. "I like that idea."

taglist: @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

#merry smutmas xoxo #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smut

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tarjapearce · 8 months

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An Angst/ Fluff Miguel O’Hara fic. The reader is giving birth and runs into a bit of complications that he freaks out a bit and gets taken out of the hospital room, so Miguel has to choose between his wife or baby. By a miracle they both live, but the reader is kinda in coma state for the meantime. Miguel meets their baby and he tells their baby the wonderful things they can do at the same time begs the reader to wake up because their baby wants to see their mommy. She later wakes up and they cry in each other’s arms of happiness.

Angst undercut ~ Sorry for the feeeels and the delay :<

Your hand squeezed his with so much force you thought that you'd break it, but he was unbothered by it. Miguel was there, his voice whispering the sweetest things as you pushed and pushed.

The excruciating pain spreaded through you body as dread bit your skin.

"I can't... Miguel..."

"You can do it hermosa, one more push, ok?" He kissed your paling knuckles as you stared at him, teary eyed and exhausted

"I feel so tired" You'd mumble between pants, strength slowly leaving you. Sweat etched to your skin.

"C'mon mamma, one more push!" The nurses massaged your thighs soothingly. Miguel cradled your head and kissed your forehead.

"Tu puedes, hermosa." (You can do it)

But truth was, you weren't sure. You felt dizzy, overwhelmed, but you had to see it through. Your baby was nearly out. Even with the doctor's help it was proving to be a tricky delivering.

You pushed. And it felt wrong.

Even Miguel frowned at the sudden cry you gave.

The baby didn't cry.

"M-Miguel?"

His chest thumped hard with every passing beat, you were paling faster than the doctors wanted to admit. All he could see was bright, crimson red on their hands.

His head snapped to the baby, the nurses were rubbing tiny shoulders frantically, giving firm pats on the back, introducing little suction devices through the baby's nose, as the doctor and another nurse focused on you.

Hemorrhage.

Your hand was limp and cold on his.

"M-Mi amor?"

He wasn't one for stuttering, but seeing life itself escaping your body, tugged his chest painfully.

"So cold, Mig..." You struggled to speak. Your eyes struggled to keep themselves open.

Against all protest, and a close call to security, Miguel was dragged out the room. A room where chaos was ensured.

All he could do was to watch as nurses paraded in an out your room. Some carrying blood stained cloths, as other brought in more. It seemed endless. And every time he approached anyone he'd receive the same response.

"We're trying our best"

Trying wasn't enough. Best wasn't enough. He needed answers.

He was about to barge in the room when the loud cry of a baby echoed in the other side.

His muscles went rigid, before he exhaled, a bit more relieved. He'd never want to choose between your life or the baby. And he never would because he knew all to well, that a choice like that would be too harrowing and heartbreaking for him to make.

And still, the balance of life seemed to favor his child.

----

Much to his comfort he was allowed to hold his baby. A little girl. She was quiet, deep in sleep, comfortable. Alive.

You on the other hand were drained out of color, an oxygen mask hooked on your face. Tiny, little breaths, almost imperceptible, flew through the mask. The constant beeping of the monitor was the only thing that indicated you were still in this world.

He should've have listened to you. You told him that you couldn't do it. Yet, he pressured and pressured until you could no more.

Your fault

His mind had been berating itself for the past couple of hours as he held your unconscious hand. You had barely made it.

And still, your body refused to awake.

-----

Three days. Three days without your voice, without sleep, without you in his arms. Without your warmth. Without you.

The nurses were kind enough to handle the baby when she'd get too fussy, to at least try and give him a bit of sleep. His body ached, his lids begged for at least some minutes of sleep.

But what if in those minutes of sleep you'd be gone? No. He couldn't risk it. He refused.

He fetched the baby, and sat before you.

A tiny bundle on his arms.

"You want Mama back too?" His eyes glossed. Desperate tears disguised as exhaustion.

The baby stirred in his arms, he rocked her as he got close to your bed.

"Mama would be crying if she saw you, princesita." His voice broke despite him trying to keep himself together.

"So so beautiful."

He'd spend hours talking about the future plans he had for the three of you.

----

Four days, of him silently waiting. You had given a blood transfusion, vitamins pumped through your system, earning a bit more of color in your cheeks. You had hope.

But fear was consuming him. Doctor had to sedate him to get some sleep, only to be contained by the doctor. His words filling his chest just a little more with hope.

"She's stable."

But again, it wasn't enough. He didn't need you stable. He needed you awake, in his arms, cradling your child, feeding her as he'd bask you in affection.

Your body had gone through a severe Post-partum Haemorrhage, since your uterus had gone through trauma. The screaming you had done still echoed in his mind.

His head pounded, yet he had asked for the baby. He'd never resent his child for your current state, no. He could never.

A little groan.

His eyes snapped at your form.

His little girl cried, panic rose through his chest as your fingers spasmed.

"Hermosa?" Miguel cupped your cheeks softly. The baby cried harder, as if begging for you.

His breath hitched as your eyes, fluttered although weakly, open.

"Hey" The knot on his throat only tightened. Shaky hands cradled you so tenderly he'd though you'd disappear again.

You were alive and awake.

His fingers wiped his eyes to then bring your little girl closer to you.

"She's beautiful isn't she?"

You nodded and smiled softly. Genuine, but exhausted. Your body was waking up from the numbness that had settled on your bones. He kissed you, your forehead, your face, pampering you in affection.

"No vuelvas a asustarme así, por favor." ( Don't scare me like that again, please)

"I'm sorry" You'd whisper but he just shook his head.

"Though I'd lost you for good"

Your hand caressed the baby, that instantly quieted down.

He'd just stay there, happy, silently thanking whoever above that you were finally awake and that his family was complete again.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Angst #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara angst #t writes✨

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writingwithcolor · 6 months

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Hey folks!

It has been a while! Well, we wanted to announce some big things coming your way!

WWC Askbox: Soft Re-Opening

Wednesday, Nov 1, 2023 to Thursday, Nov 30, 2023

In light of the recent attention WWC has received by the writeblr community, and the reception to our Guide to Academic Research—the mods have decided that we will temporarily reopen to your questions and test some important changes to the site! As you may have noticed, we've taken a much-needed break to catch up on our personal lives and restore our inspiration to answer the hundreds of Q&A that we receive.

Once the submission window is up on Nov 30, we will evaluate how our new system is going, tinker some more, and reopen once again once the construction dust clears.

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showfallmanagement · 5 months

Text

[The footage begins, bright fluorescent lights reflecting off the tiling as the camera travels down a large hallway. The sounds of tapping footsteps and Manager#0 humming idly to himself echo off the walls. It pans towards the left side of the hallway, a door covered in multicolor Post-It notes scrawled with messages unintelligible from here coming into frame. Another room to its right is lit up with a soft white glow, the red logos of Showfall Media on its windows also reflecting on the floor. The camera pans to the other side of the hallway and comes to a stop outside this room.]

[Shattered windows frame the thick darkness beyond them, a stark contrast to the illuminated Heart now behind him. The sign hanging above the entrance, though slightly scratched and no longer lit up, reads “Forever 21”.]

Manager#0: [Muttering.] Nowhere left to run, Editor.

[He approaches the entrance, which has been obstructed by several display shelves. With a bit of a struggle, he manages to shove one of them backwards, metal groaning and then slamming against the floor with a reverberating crash. Manager#0 makes a small sound of pleasant surprise before stepping over the shelf and into the darkness.]

[The store is littered with fallen ceiling panels and old shelves, long ransacked, filled only with dust and the occasional leftover item. Old clothing racks are positioned in neat lines around the room, like gravestones. A rustling sound is heard, distant enough the location in the store can't be identified. But close enough to be picked up by the mic.]

[The camera snaps in the direction of the sound, pausing momentarily before starting forward, pace now slowed considerably. There’s a sound of glass crunching as he calls out.]

Manager#0: I know you’re in here, Editor! Don’t try to hide from your responsibilities.

?: [Distant.] Showfall isn't my responsibility, asshole!

Manager#0: Oh, you poor thing. Your judgement’s been clouded from how long you were out there. Let us set you back on the right path!

?: [Distant.] What, me becoming a stupid Editor again? Is that the right path? How about you eat a fucking shoe asshole.

Manager#0: There’s no escaping your role, Editor. And I must say your job is on the line here. [The camera darts around the next room as Manager#0 ventures into the back part of the store.] I’m not keen on letting you go with a slap on the wrist, but it’s your only option, unfortunately--unless you want to be fired.

?: [Distant.] I quit in June, you bitch! Can't fire me if I QUIT!

Manager#0: [Dry laugh.] Oh, that’s what I thought, too. Thought if it got too stressful I could just opt out. But I’m still useful here. And you would be too, if you didn’t cause so much trouble.

?: [Distant.] I HAVEN'T BEEN HERE! I have been hiding in an apartment since June! or well July I think. How am I causing trouble? You dipfucks ruined my life!

Manager#0: Oh, please. Life isn’t fair, Editor. You just have to accept what comes your way. Struggling will only prolong your suffering. [Sigh.] I was hoping you’d end up being less childish than that sister of yours--what was her name, Ruby?--but here we are.

?: [Still distant, but sounding slightly closer than before.] Don't. Say. Her. Fucking. Name. She's dead because of this hellhole.

Manager#0: We both know that isn’t really true. Checking her file, she’s still around here somewhere! Security department, what a fulfilling job. Come with me willingly and maybe the two of you could have a reunion of sorts before you’re fired!

?: [Closer.] For a cheery motherfucker, you sure don't value your life, do you!

[More shuffling, as if someone was moving away from a spot.]

[The camera focuses in on the direction of the sound. There’s a somewhat large potted plant next to some shelves, the leaves of which are still swaying as if disturbed by a sudden movement.]

Manager#0: My main priority is the company, something I imagine you wouldn’t know anything about.

[He stalks towards the plant carefully, before suddenly kicking it over backwards. It lands with a loud thud and a rustling of leaves. The camera turns back to the rest of the store, scanning the abandoned display cases.]

?: [Closer.] Not there. Try again stupidass!

[The light from the HALO reflects in the cracked glass of a jewelry display, making what remains of the necklaces and bracelets sparkle. The camera pauses for a moment on the scene, as if preoccupied.]

?: [Whispered.] Fuck, he is way closer than I'd like.

[The camera jolts in the direction of the voice.]

Manager#0: What, do you think I can’t hear you? [The camera darts towards the shelf the voice came from behind.]

?: Yeah… kinda.

[The camera tilts as Manager#0 leans around the corner of the shelf, coming face to face with an unmasked employee in a brown jacket, curls of brunette hair poking out from their hood. Bloodied bandages partially obscure their face, and they clutch a gun to their chest. Their visible eye widens, shining in the light from the HALO as the scene is suddenly washed in red.]

[Employee identified! Editor#721 (Rose Henderson)]

Manager#0: Surprise!

R: Fuck-

[Rose stuffs the gun in one of her pockets before turning and quickly skittering away, darting away behind a shelf a ways ahead. There’s miscellaneous crashing sounds from somewhere further into the store.

R: [Distantly again.] Still fast as fuck moron! Remember when I ran out of here with a plant on my back?

Manager#0: [Sighing in frustration as he begins in the direction Rose fled, red lighting turning the wall and back of the shelf on either side of him a light pink.] A plant??

R: [Closer.] Yeah! I stole a plant just to prove Showfall is fucking pathetic! Honestly, if I was sooooooo useful, how come everytime y'all have tried to get me back in my role, you dipshits failed! That's not counting the two times a member of PR tried to kill me! Honestly, if I'm so important, Manager, I'd expect more! You gave Edgar two fucking shows when y'all got him back!

Manager#0: [Nearly cutting her off, dryly.] Oh, woe is me. A single plant. Whatever will the company do without a single plant. [The camera jolts as he suddenly pokes his head around a corner created by one of the shelves, slowly turning back towards its original path as he’s met with nothing.] And I’m not going to sugarcoat it, Editor, you are extremely replaceable, but once you’ve caught the company’s eye, you’re not getting out of it. Why do you think the Mechanic got his shows? There’s no escaping us, not in any way that matters.

R: First. Not the point, I know you fuckers don't care. The point of stealing the plant was to show I could have an actual fucking target on my back and still get out! And hey! I managed to escape Showfall once--again, I haven't technically been here since June! Second, you contradicted yourself. Third, oh, I escaped once. I'll just do it again you son of a bitch!

Manager#0: Security’s gotten tighter since your last escape, I wouldn’t be naive. [He casually shoves over a shorter display, and it falls with a crash.] And I haven’t contradicted anything. Your role here is important, but once you’ve finally been fired, we’ll just hire someone new to take it up. [Slight pause.] If you were willing to comply, then maybe I’d put in a good word for you, but, well. I do what the company wills.

R: [A laugh.] Can I be honest? Twenty-seven fucking times I tried to escape the mall. Do you know what it's like to die that many times? I'm not going to give up, I've seen what the outside is like. It is a wonderful fucking thing. I'm not going to give up, until I am dead and fucking gone you piece of shit. If I have to go through you, Squig, Iris--HELL, FUCKING HETCH!--I will. I am getting out of here again.

[There’s a pause, neither party saying anything as the camera comes back out into the open, debris crunching underfoot.]

[Suddenly, there’s a deafening crack of sound. The camera pitches forward slightly.]

[The camera steadies again, and then pans down, slowly, red light illuminating a hole in the fabric of Manager#0’s suit jacket. Wiring slowly begins to spill from the wound.]

Manager#0: [Quietly.] No. Wait, no- No- [The camera sinks towards the floor as Manager#0 clutches his abdomen, letting out a loud cry of pain.] No, this- this can’t be happening!

R: I… I fucking did it. [She begins laughing.] I DID IT! I SHOT SOMEONE! IT TOOK TWO FUCKING TRIES BUT I DID IT!

Manager#0: [Whining.] It’s all going dark… the pain…

[Rose pokes her head out, holding the gun close. A smile is draped across her face.]

R: Cry about it bitchboy, you dead yet?

[The camera snaps immediately in her direction.]

[Manager#0’s quiet sounds of pain suddenly disappear entirely, camera rising from the floor as he begins to snicker. He reaches his hand up from clutching the wound to re-adjust his glasses.]

Manager#0: Just kidding! [He chuckles as the camera tips to the side with his head.] Don’t feel a thing.

[The camera begins to stalk towards her, lighting her and the wall behind her in a ruby glow.]

Manager#0: [The smile in his voice is audible.] Nowhere left to run, Editor.

R: That’s where you're wrong, there's a lot of area to run! Oh--and gotcha!

[Before Manager#0 can reply, Rose ducks back behind the shelf, which, with a groan of metal, begins to tip forwards. Manager#0 lets out a small gasp, backing up, but not enough to get fully out of its reach before the shelf is crashing down onto him.]

R: HAHA, GET FUCKED, ASSHOLE! SPARROW, COME ON, TIME TO RUN! Or… roll, in your case.

?: [From somewhere further in the store.] Hm. Right.

[The sound of tires on tile is heard, as well as rapid footsteps, as the two people flee, seemingly going in different directions. Before they get too far, there’s a loud thunk as something hits the edge of the camera, bouncing off of it and falling out of frame.]

[The camera, which has been stuck looking at the ceiling, slowly gets back up, Manager#0 groaning as the HALO’s light flickers slightly, but stays on. His legs are revealed to be trapped under the metal. He glances to the side, and a metal soup can is still rolling on the floor. The logo reads “Aunt Claire’s Homestyle Chicken Noodle”.]

[Manager#0 sighs deeply, his hands momentarily coming up and covering the camera. The footage goes dark for a moment before he removes his hands and begins trying to lift the shelf off. The lighting slowly fades back to its usual unblinking white.]

[As he manages to get one leg free, his hand goes back up to the camera.]

Transcript has been ended. Thank you for using Showfall Media Video-To-Text! Posting... ]

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leclercsbunny · 7 months

Text

maybe if you loved me ♡ c. sainz

part five ♡ masterlist

anasainzvdec posted a story 12m ago

blanca watches you convene with ana animatedly, nodding and laughing along with the both of you as per usual, though she held an air of reservation and restraint, being deep in thought.

"sorry, i have an urge to use the restroom again." you sheepishly cut through her story.

"again? your bladder's gotten small or something?" ana comments amusedly.

"let me go with you." blanca stands up from her seat, making a face. "i think the oj got to me aswell." you gestured towards her smugly, as if to tell ana; look, i'm not alone in my struggles.

"fine, but hurry back." she playfully rolls her eyes.

blanca hooks her arm around yours, and you both depart to the restroom. you made small talk on the way, and went to do your business separately.

when you left the stall to wash your hands, blanca was already there. she looked as if she was... waiting for you. she looked serious, and somehow, bothered.

"is everything alright?" you ask her, feeling your heart drop.

"i say this out of the love i have for you and carlos." blanca utters slowly, watching your expression change. "but does he know?"

"i don't know what you're talking about, blanca." you wave her off, suddenly turning defensive.

"i'm sorry if i'm overstepping... but i cannot help but notice all these, very subtle tells." she says softly, not wanting you to get agitated. "you're suddenly queasy when it comes to certain foods, and you're drawn to sweets. like, crazy partial to them. you use the bathroom often, your waist is just.." she measures it with her hand. "and i think we've cultivated a friendship comfortable enough for a brazen comment about the evident size of your... nether regions."

"blanca," you hiss, feeling your cheeks warm with both embarassment and indignance, as you cover your body from her all knowing gaze. "i don't like what you're implying."

"and you didn't drink coffee. you need your coffee, you're like a.." she sniffles, suddenly finding it difficult to maintain her own composure, "fish when you drink those latte's."

"why are you crying?" you push her shoulders, feeling your own nose itch from the buildup of emotions threatening to just spill and topple the both of you. "this is your own freaking fault that we're having this conversation. be woman enough to finish it."

"you're pregnant." she said it with certainty, eyes welling up with tears, she didn't know wether from happiness or sadness. maybe both. it was supposed to be a joyful moment, one which had been your dream for such a long time. but instead your eyes were both red from the complexities of your current emotions, the information tainted with the knowledge of your current realities. "how far long?" she asks.

"still not sure." you rectify with a broken voice, wiping your tears away. "i took some pt, but i've been delaying the blood tests."

"makes sense," blanca reaches out to grasp your shaky hands, "what do you plan to do?"

"i don't know." you reply honestly. "i can only ever think about matteo, and.. and..." you shake your head resolutely, "i don't want anything to change with him."

"things are going to change, but it doesn't always mean a bad one." she tells you, "i know you're at odds with carlos, but— will you tell him?"

you shake your head, "he doesn't need to know." yet even you found it hard to believe.

"he's the father, y/n." blanca reminds you softly, "i know he's done something horrible, and there's no reason to his actions.... but it will crush him."

"he has a very fickle sense of loyalty, and i'm tired of waiting for him to change." you reply. "i don't need his wavering devotion in my baby's life. please understand me, blanca." you tell her pleadingly.

f1chai the carlos-yn-daniel drama bubbles over with more controversy as yn is embroiled in a shocking pregnancy scandal. spanish news outlets broke the news over the weekend, claiming the spaniard's long time, now ex girlfriend, has secretly been seeing one of the best child-rearing physician in madrid— neither carlos, nor daniel have been accompanying her, but one of the sainz' sister was discreetly pictured on one of her visits. this led many to speculate that yn is indeed with child, and have been for some time. the question of wether it is sainz's or ricciardo's have yet to be answered. the parties involved had declined to comment on this matter.

username what the fuck

username IS CARLOS A SHARP HITTER OR SOMETHING ?!?

username am not believing this until further notice

username LIES !! character defaming ones !! SUE EVERYONE !!

username LAWSUIT LAWSUIT LAWSUIT

username seriously why the fuck are people following her anyways...

username right !! she's a normal citizen and these people are all up in her business 🙄

username seriously. let the girl breathe fs

username wrong on so many levels

username this is better than any telenovalas 😭😭

username who's the daddy ? 🤨

username MAMMA MIA ??

username are we even doubting carlos... that man has a whole ass son

username just why? yn already had it good 😭😭😭

username she was running then tripped

username on sainz's lap...

username have to give it to him. well done !!

username get the bag i guess !!

username yeah 😭😭 atleast her baby daddy isn't some brokie 😭😭

username he's a cheater though

username **serial cheater

username 😭😭😭😭

#f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x y/n #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #f1 smau #f1 fluff #f1 social media au #f1 x female reader #f1

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miam0re · 8 months

Note

*waves at you*

Kafka messaging reader when she asks where are you and Blade for the past few hours and reader replied with "he's fucking me." and Kafka just replies with like "oh? is that so?" And the reader dropped her phone while Blade just keeps splitting us open for hours, and he just thrust up and bounces us up and down on his dick until we're screaming.. IT MAKES ME DROOL AND MY HORN-NKEE SIDE GO WILD IM SORRY IF IT SOUNDS WEIRD (this came out because I had a dream of it and i woke up like this feeling like this-)

THANKS-.🫶

Screaming along with you ahhhhhhhhhh

i don't even know what to title this lmao uhhhh

He's Fucking Me | Blade

NSFW, Fem!Reader, slight punishing, cock riding(because we're all whores for Blade), orgasm denial if you squint.

Just hours and hours of you spending your day bouncing on Blade’s cock because how often do you get to spend the day having your brains blown out by his massive girth? Not often with either Kafka or Silver always with you guys. What cockblocks. Even today, your phones had been buzzing and going off with messages and calls from the gal, so eager to meet you. But with how Blade was splitting you open, pumping you full of load after load till you had your tongue lolling out with moans flying from your lips…you really didn’t want any distractions.

"Where are you and Blade????"

“He’s fucking me.”

A quick response to her texts before your phone slips from your hand and Blade has your wrists pinned behind your back, mouth sucking hickies on your breasts and neck.

“How bold of you to take your mind off my cock for even a second. I don’t take well to being disrespected like that.”

He stills his movements, leaving you helpless and grinding on his cock with no leverage but the circling of your hips. You whine and pull against his grip, wanting to sink your nails into his shoulder and get some real good fucking, but he wasn’t having it. All he does is glances at your twitching clit, eying the way you try to fuck yourself on his dick. It pleased him how desperately you tried to move, screaming and crying and whining and apologising. He smirk slyly, red eyes burning with passion through his bangs. A single thrust to the warm walls of your cunt…just to show what you’re missing. He knew you wanted it, but delaying your pleasure and watching you squirm like this was so enticing.

“Fuck yourself on my cock till you make me cum. Then perhaps I’ll consider flipping you over and fucking you hard.”

Yeah Kafka’s further messages teasing and asking for ‘details’ were left unanswered for the rest of the day.

taglist: @stygianoir

#mia.mail #mia.smut #mia.writes #mia.anon #blade smut #honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #star rail smut #honkai star rail blade #blade x reader

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moonydustx · 6 days

Note

Hii, i was wondering if you would like to write something about zoro being jealous? Just that haha :) btw i love your writing!

Hi Hi Hi! First, thank you for the request and the compliment, they really make my day. And second, sorry for the delay in writing, I ended up getting stuck with some work deadlines. I loved the idea and although our little greenie has a tough exterior, I think he would be one of those jealous people who refuses to admit it, you know? I think I ended up going on a more protective side with this one, but I hope you like it.

A not so friendly friend

Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader Warnings: Zoro is jealous and a little protective of his girl, he and F!Reader have a kind of secret relationship. A little smut at the end, nothing super explicit. Summary: The Straw Hats arrive on one of the islands where you lived for many years and, to your delight, you meet a long-time friend. Someone in the crew doesn't seem that happy.

requests open | one piece masterlist

It was almost impossible to keep your euphoria contained within your body. You hadn't set foot on that island in years and finally, you could spend a few days there - even if it was just long enough to record the Log Pose.

"Someone seems anxious to me." Usopp leaned next to you as the Sunny finished docking in the small port.

"Right after I left my home island, I spent a few years here, I believe I can still find some friends."

"I hope they're nice people."

"They sure are!" the two of you quickly turned your attention to Luffy, who was shouting that everything was ready to disembark. The two quickly walked towards the group, this time Franky would be responsible for taking care of the ship.

"We're finally here!" Robin joined the two of you. "From what you told me, there's a big library around here."

"Yes, I'll take you there, we also have great restaurants…" you listed. "Wait, how are we going to split up?"

"Well, from what you told me, it's five days until Log Pose finishes recording and since it seems to be an important island for you, we can do most of the things together." Nami explained and waited for the others to agree. "We've already distributed everyone's money, but today we're going after…"

"Food!" Luffy interrupted her and immediately felt Nami's hand slap him. "But you promised to take me out for that delicious pie." he turned to you.

"Yes, we will. Let's go down first, shall we?" you asked and everyone immediately agreed.

Like many other times, you watched Zoro go down first and almost automatically stretch out his hand for you to support yourself and go down. That gesture didn't go unnoticed by your crewmates, but they knew your personality well enough not to question it.

The group continues calmly to the island's central square. New stores, old schools, even some salespeople were the same and seemed to have recognized you when you waved, your cheeks already hurt from the fixed smile.

"I remember in that bar over there one time…" you commented and heard something in the background.

"Kitten?"

Everyone immediately turned towards the voice that called you as they watched you become a figure as you ran towards the blonde haired boy.

"Leo!" recognizing your former friend immediately, you threw yourself into his arms, allowing the man to lift you off the ground.

"Seems like she's well liked here." Robin chuckled as he watched you practically spin around.

"Is he also a pirate?" Brook analyzed him. "What do you think."

"He seems like a nice guy." Chopper replied smiling

"Kitten?" Zoro practically groaned when he heard the nickname, muttering under his breath.

Even with the man's hands on your waist, squeezing you tightly and your laugh being heard from afar, the way the word had come out of the other guy's mouth made it clear that Zoro wouldn't like his stay there in that city.

"Guys, I need to introduce him to you…" you pulled the man by the hand, bringing him closer to the gang. "This is Leo, he was one of the best friends I had here."

"I went?"

"Still one of the best friends." you laughed, being pulled into a side hug by the man. "Let me introduce my friends, Straw Hats."

You made a point of introducing each friend one by one and again that seemed to bother Zoro. Friend? His little rationality reminded him that you had never made anything clear about the implicit situations between the two of you, but the small bad feeling - which he refused to name - bothered him.

"Come on, I'll take you to our base." the man continued holding hands with you and guided the others.

"Wow, how different you look." "So, how has it been exploring the sea?" "I bet you haven't found anyone as good as me."

Every time the man opened his mouth to praise you, Zoro felt his hand grip tighter against the sword in his sheath. Just one of the three and he would do all the damage that crossed his mind. It was a strange feeling, watching you there with someone else, even if they were talking. Something that stirred any butterfly that might exist in his stomach, that made his eyes turn red, his hands itch to get him out and take that Leo's place. Zoro hated this new feeling that came over him.

"Hey Zoro." your voice woke him up from his trance. "Did you know that Leo is also a swordsman?"

"Interesting." His tone of voice was almost cynical, going unnoticed by you.

"This one is the executor." Leo pointed to the sword in his sheath. "It was supposed to have another name." the man turned suggestively to you.

"I would never let you use my name for that thing." you grumbled, turning back to Zoro. "He's one of the best swordsmen on the island."

"What's your bounty?" the provocation was implicit in the cynical smile that adorned Zoro's lips and this time, it had reached your eyes.

"I don't have one." the man replied calmly, reassuring you.

"Interesting." Zoro repeated and followed in silence.

The others seemed distracted, talking amongst themselves, but your eyes started to turn around a few times, following the green-haired man who started to walk further behind the group.

The afternoon passed quickly on the island. You met up with some other friends who didn't seem to be as close as Leo and when night fell, everyone decided to go to a bar. Everyone except one person.

"Zoro, can we talk?" you asked, moving away from the group that entered the place full of drinks and noise. "What is happening?"

"About what?"

"You barely spoke to me today and now you're refusing to drink?" you stood on your tiptoes, to touch his forehead. "Are you sure you don't want me to call Chopper to make sure you're not sick?"

"Everything is fine." he responded directly, even if he wasn't harsh, his eyes made it clear that something was wrong. "I'm going to go back to Sunny, take advantage of the free time to train."

"Greenie, please." the nickname you used so much to irritate him came out sweeter than he expected from your lips. That made it even harder for him to deny any of your requests.

"It's okay sweetie." his hand touched yours and the memories of watching you all day arm in arm with Leo made him pull away. "Your friends are waiting for you, go."

You watched him leave and even though your body almost involuntarily wanted to follow him, you let Zoro return to the ship.

The remaining four days felt like an eternity to Zoro. Something told him not to move away from you and on the other hand, with every laugh you gave Leo's direction, it was as if he was hurting himself. Why did he have to feel this way? It was just a friendship, wasn't it?

He managed to control himself, many times he managed to control himself. Seeing you have lunch next to him, watching the man carry you from one place to another, the stupid gifts he insisted on giving you and even Leo daring to say he could train you with swords.

Zoro didn't know if there was a god or something, but he thanked the heavens when the last night began to fall. The next morning, you would set sail and he would no longer be forced to share his attention with the idiot who called himself your friend.

The tall bonfire at the edge of the small forest was surrounded by members of the Straw Hats, Leo and some other friends. Drinks and food piled up, as did stories and songs that Brook made a point of singing. Your lips no longer smiled so much, especially when your favorite swordsman met your gaze. He was distant, it had been five days since you had barely been able to speak to him and when you did, he seemed to be as dry as the Alabasta desert. On the other hand, these days you had met a much clingier version of Leo, even uncomfortable and you didn't know how to get away - and apparently the person who could help you with this, didn't seem to be so worried.

"Kitten?" Leo bent down, stopping at your ear level. "Can we talk alone real quick?"

"Why?" you asked, seeing him find the question strange.

"We need more booze!" the man ignored what you said and said it out loud. Pretending he wasn't already talking to you, he nudged you. "Come on, help me, kitten."

Zoro watched the man say something to you and your expression changed, sulking. Leo repeated the gesture again, ignoring that he had already spoken to you. Something possessive took over Zoro - something was wrong and he wouldn't sit still until he found out what it was. Leaving the sake aside, the swordsman stood up and, following a more hidden path than yours, accompanied you to the back of the warehouse - which was the supposed base that Leo had presented a few days ago.

"What is this, Leo?" you stopped in front of him, seeing that they had taken a different direction than you expected.

"I know you're leaving tomorrow, but… Why wouldn't you stay here?" he asked and you immediately shook your head, before your lips could even say it.

"They're my family now. I still adore you, everyone here, but I'm going back to the sea." Your answer seemed to disappoint him. "You know it's always been my dream."

"I know it's selfish of me." the man approached, holding your wrists and, more gently than you expected, he guided you against the wall. "I like you, I always have. If you want, we can go to the sea together, we can form a family, we can…"

"I have a boyfriend." Leo laughed in disbelief, still keeping your arms tied to his, in an even tighter grip. "Leo, you've always been my best friend. Let's not ruin that."

"Friends? You've been missing for years!" he growled, slamming your fists against the wall.

For a few seconds Zoro chose to just watch, hatred was in his eyes and if it weren't for your presence there, Leo would already be just a memory in this world. He knew you weren't a lady in distress and that if you wanted to get out of there, you would get out easily. But there was something written in your eyes, something he saw very few times in battle - fear.

Before the man repeated the gesture, you watched Leo's face get closer and when he was millimeters away, he stopped. His eyes immediately widened and before you understood what the glow was on the side of his neck, you saw a small trickle of blood appear on the man's jugular vein.

"Get your filthy hands off my girlfriend…" Zoro's low tone was even more threatening than if he had been shouting. "Before I take them out of your arms."

"So it's him." Leo muttered, frustration clear in his voice. "I should have suspected."

"I'm sorry." you whispered, without even understanding why you were apologizing.

"I could kill you right now and believe me, I'm still debating whether to do it." Zoro approached, now allowing Leo's entire neck to be covered by the blade. "But I'd hate to ruin the banquet."

"Don't worry about that." Leo threatened to pull his sword, but this time it was you who held his hand.

"Just go back there Leo, let's pretend this didn't happen." you asked and Zoro could now notice how stressed you looked, but at the same time relief appeared on your face.

"She's right." Zoro muttered, moving even closer to the man. "Let's pretend none of this happened and maybe tomorrow you won't wake up just to choke on your blood and die."

"Zoro!" Your voice sounded like a warning to him, who lowered his sword and let the man leave.

For a few seconds, the two of you just watched each other. It was good to be able to have your boyfriend there, finally within walking distance of you.

"How are you feeling?" Zoro took the initiative and held your hands, as if analyzing where the man touched you. When you felt them trembling, he placed a quick kiss between your fingers. "Did he do anything else?"

"No, he just wanted me to stay here." you let your body lean against the cold wall. "Why just now?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"All week I've been trying to reach you, bring you with me, integrate you with my friends here." you huffed, feeling Zoro get even closer to your body.

"I wanted to give you space." he lied and saw you laugh. The sound - which this time was exclusively for him - made Zoro's ego inflate.

"I didn't know you were the jealous type." a moan of relief almost escaped you when you felt his arms wrap around your waist.

"Not jealous, just protective."

"What's your bounty?" you imitated him, laughing again. "Isn't that jealousy?"

"No, kitten." this time, he let a soft laugh escape his lips.

"I am sorry dear." you sank into his chest, letting his hands slide down your back. "I was excited to see everything again and I didn't understand Leo's real intentions."

"And why didn't you defend yourself?" your eyes met his and then Zoro realized his mistake. "I mean, I'll always defend you, but I've seen you get out of worse situations."

"I know." Again you cuddled up, the cold wind sent shivers through your body. "It's just that he was a friend, you know? He saved me many times and I guess I didn't expect to have to fight with him. He was never a threat." The sound of Zoro's heart against your ear was comforting, it was like going back to any of the crows nest nights, where you would stay tangled up for hours. "I found his behavior strange, he was never like that, clingy. But I didn't know who to ask for help."

"I imagine it would be difficult." Zoro murmured, letting his lips touch the top of your head. "Sorry I didn't show up sooner, kitten." he teased you, getting another laugh from you.

"Time to stop this kitten."

"Are you sure, kitten?" he said again, but Zoro's voice came out a few octaves lower, his provocation took a new turn.

His hands that had been caressing your back found themselves on your waist and pressed you against the wall. One of them went up to your chin and held you steady, looking into his eyes, but not for long. Eliciting a moan, Zoro took your lips intensely. No time for little kisses, or any affection that could come first. His lips brought longing and the taste of sake, mixed with the sweetness of your lips.

One of his legs fit between your thighs, the hands that held your waist forced you against the fabric of his pants, moving you like an incentive. While the assault on your lips didn't stop, the heat in your intimacy began to accumulate and form a knot.

"Zoro, please." a strangled moan left your lips, trying hard to contain the noise and not attract the attention of anyone nearby.

"I'm here, love. I got you, just give it to me." his lips that bordered the sensitive spot below your ear took your lips and held all your moans just for him.

Zoro held you there for some time, sweat accumulated on your face as you were still panting. It was a version that didn't appear that often, but you loved it when Zoro lost himself caressing your face, letting his lips slide delicately across your skin.

"Zo, I think we should go back." despite yourself, you moved away from him a little. "By now, Leo should already have contact for everyone."

"Great, at least for one good thing this good-for-nothing will do." upon noticing your lost look, Zoro continued. "I was tired of hiding it."

"Are you sure?" his hands cupped your face, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

"I love you woman, how can I not be sure of that?" the confession brought a huge smile to your lips.

"I love you more greenie."

Zoro took the lead and with his hand tied in yours, he guided you back to the fire. It was as if nothing had happened, everyone was still talking and drinking. Still feeling your legs weak from the little time you and Zoro had, you sat down and let him go get drinks.

Upon returning to his place, Zoro saw that even without saying anything, Leo was still staring at you, practically on the other side of the fire. With his chest puffed out in ego and relieved to finally have you back in his arms, Zoro sat behind you, so that you were between his legs and when he handed you your drink, he placed a kiss and a light bite on your neck. You were his and from now on that would be very clear.

"It can't be! It's too bad luck all at once!" Sanji's tearful voice attracted the attention of both of you and made you laugh out loud when you saw that the blonde was complaining precisely about the little scene between you two. "What does this mosshead have that I don't?"

"I knew!" Nami screamed and ripped Chopper's hat off. "You can go give me your money, you idiots."

"You guys bet on us?" you asked indignantly and to Nami, Usopp and Franky's joy, apparently they were the two winners.

"This world needs to end…" you laughed even harder when you saw Sanji handing the money to the navigator.

"That's it, now there are two idiots wanting what's mine." Zoro pulled you even closer to his body. "Only mine."

#reader insert #fiction #no use of y/n #requests open #zoro x you #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece fic

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atlafan · 4 months

Note

Yes yes plz!! What about a holiday blurb of doctorry and patient y/n during the holidays? He is her doctor on Xmas or NYE 🧐 thoughts?

I sort of missed answering prompts???? Thanks for sending this in, I hope you like it! I ended up going with NYE

Warnings: mentions of blood, clumsiness, and smut!

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Y/N isn't normally one to complain. Any time she thinks to, "Kim, there are people that are dying", swarms through her head.

The night started off so promising. Y/N was headed to a friend's part for NYE. Her friend's apartment has a great view of the fireworks. She was also excited because her friend said a very cute guy that Y/N should definitely meet would be attending. Not that Y/N is shallow, but when her friend said the man in question was a doctor, well, Y/N got a little giddy.

She was all dressed up and ready to go. A sequin dress, dark tights, and heels accompanied with a bold red lipstick. She was feeling good. A few friends thought it would be fun to pregame before going to the party. Just a few shots with the girlies, nothing crazy. Y/N was nervous to meet the doctor, so she had no qualms with pregaming.

Except, on the way to the party, since she was a little tipsy, Y/N stripped and fell on the sidewalk. Why they didn't just take an Uber, she'll never know. Her friends laughed until they saw Y/N's face. Her lips busted open and it's bleeding, her tights ripped at her knees, and one of them was gushing blood. And on top of all that, one of her heels broke. Her friends scooped her up, ordered an Uber, and took her to the emergency room.

Her knees were stinging, her lip was throbbing, and she;s just noticing how scraped up her palms are. She's trying to keep cool in front of her friends. This is a huge delay in their plans, and she feels terrible that it's because of her. Not to mention, what if the cute doctor guy ends up talking to some other girl because Y/N is stuck at the hospital.

One of the nurses gave her a compress to keep against the knee that was heavily bleeding while one of her friends helped fill out some forms.

"Guys, go on ahead to the party," she told them, "I'll be fine."

"We're not leaving you, Y/N. It's not even 9PM, we have plenty of time to get to Francesca's." One of her friends said.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" A nurse says her name blandly, no urgency, just annoyance in her tone.

"That's me." Y/N says, and stands up. One of her friends is ready to go with her, but the nurse holds up her hand.

"Just the patient, unless you're family. We still have some COVID procedures here."

Y/N followed the nurse into a small room where she took her vitals. Y/N was still actively bleeding from her knee and lip, but the nurse didn't seem to care, or think it was that big of a deal.

"Alright, the doctor should be in shortly." The nurse and leaves the room before Y/N can ask any questions.

It takes ten minutes until she hears a knock on the door and the doctor comes in.

"Hi, sorry. I was halfway out the door when they asked me to stay, so I had to get back into my scrubs and..." The doctor looks at Y/N who is now sobbing. She's been silently crying for about five minutes, but now the floodgates are open. "You must be in a lot of pain." He sits on the stool and scoots over to her. "Let's take a look at that knee."

"I'm s-sorry." She cries. "I ruined my own night, my friends' night, and now yours." She hiccups, then hisses when the doctor takes the compress off her knee.

"You didn't ruin my night, don't worry." He gets up and puts some gloves on, then grabs the necessary items needed to clean the wound. "This'll sting a little. Feel free to grab my shoulder or something if you need something to hold onto."

"Do you think I'll need stitch-ow!" Out of instinct, she presses his chest with her foot and pushes him back. "What the hell?!"

"I told you it would sting." He looks down at his scrubs that now have a wet footprint on it. "Where are your shoes?"

"In the lobby with my friends. One of my heels broke, so I just walked without them. And that was more than a sting! That was, like, a bee sting, much worse than a regular sting."

"Your skin's probably just raw. What even happened, how did you get like this?"

"I tripped and fell. Ah!" This time she grabs onto his hair and tugs hard as he continues to clean up her knee.

The doctor takes a deep breath and removes Y/N's hand from his head. "I said you could grab my shoulder."

"It hurts!"

"I have to cut your stockings a bit so I can get a look at your entire knee." He scoots back, grabs scissors, then scoots back to her. "I hope you weren't attached to these."

"They're ruined anyways. Go on, cut away."

"So, what'd you trip on?"

"Myself." She groans. "We were leaving a pregame before heading to a party at my friend's apartment."

"Ah, been there." He stretches the material until it tares. He can see how swollen Y/N's knee is. "This swelled up like a cantaloupe, no wonder it hurts so much. Did you land right on the cap?"

"Yeah, and then I skidded." She wipes under her eyes and pouts. "I must look like a racoon."

"You don't." He looks up at her briefly. "You won't need stitches, but you need some skin glue and a bandage. I'll take care of this first, then we can take care of your lip. It looks like it's clotted, so you're not bleeding now."

"Okay." She sighs and slumps a little. "You never told me your name."

"Oh! Sorry." He squeezes the glue onto his gloved finger and puts it on the wound. "I'm Dr. Styles."

"Styles? Is...is your first name Harry?"

"Yeah." He's busy concentrating on closing her wound, so he doesn't see the horrified look on her face. He puts the bandage over it and presses it firmly.

"This wasn't how I was supposed to meet you." She slides her hands down her face.

"We were supposed to meet?" He looks up at her, confused.

"Yes, I'm Y/N Y/L/N...my friend, who's having the party I was going to, was supposed to set us up tonight."

"Your Francesca's friend Y/N?" He smiles. "That's crazy. I was on my way to the party when they told me to stay and help you. Guess it was fate, one way or another."

"I'm a mess..."

"You had an accident." He chuckles and stands up once her knee is secure. He grips her chin to get a better look at her lip. "Top lip's the one that's busted. You're swollen here too. I'll give you some ice in a bit."

"Does it need a stitch?"

"Nope, but I'll put some glue on it so it can heal a little faster. I'm gonna clean this up. It shouldn't hurt like your knee, but it'll still sting." He gets a cotton pad wet with some alcohol, "Now that I know we were technically supposed to be on a blind date tonight, feel free to tug at my hair all you want." He smirks, and Y/N's cheeks redden.

"Jesus!" She hisses as he cleans up her lip.

"You're kind of a baby." He dabs at her lip a few more times, then gets some glue onto his gloved finger. "What do you do for work?"

"I am a baby, I'll admit it. I have a very low tolerance for pain. I'm in IT, I work for that Norton company, the one that protects your computer from malware."

"Wow, that's a huge company. Good for you. Do you, like, code, or...?"

"Sort of. I basically figure out how hackers hack so I can build a stronger code that hackers can't hack."

"You know, while you were talking, I finished taking care of your lip. Guess you're someone that needs a distraction."

"Yeah, guess so. Um, thank you."

"You're welcome." He sits back down on the stool and just looks at her. "I have a sort of wild idea. You're pretty banged up and don't have shoes, and I'm honestly not a fan of huge parties. So, what if I take you home so you can change into something more comfortable, I'll order us some takeout, then we can go back to mine to watch the fireworks. I have a decent view, might even be better than Francesca's."

"I kicked you, screamed, and almost ripped your hair out, and you still want to spend the night together?"

"Y/N, I'm gonna be completely honest, if we weren't at my place of work, I'd lock the door and rip your tights open in a much more private area."

"Oh." Her heart starts racing. "Well, uh, considering that I won't be able to get on my knees tonight, I guess you'll have to."

Harry grins and stands up. "I'm gonna let the nurse know you're all set so you can check out. Wait for me out front in the lobby. I just need to change and grab my stuff. I'm parking in the hospital's garage."

"Alright."

Once Y/N is back with her friends, she tells them everything and lets them know they can leave and that she'll check in throughout the night.

Harry drives Y/N home in a comfortable silence. She was grateful Harry wasn't talking her ear off. She just wanted to focus on pressing the ice pack he gave her to her knee.

"I'd offer to go up with you, but I really want to make it to my place." He tells her.

"No worries. I won't be long. I'm just gonna grab a different pair of shoes and throw some sweats into a bag. I can just change when we get there."

"Works for me."

Y/N goes as quickly as she can to get up to her apartment, grab what she needs, and get back down to Harry's care. In reality, it was barely ten minutes.

Harry pulls up to his building about twenty minutes later, and hands his keys to the valet.

"Oh, so you're like, rich, rich." Y/N jokes.

"You live in a nice building too." Harry laughs. "I like knowing my car is safe in the building's garage, and it's so easy to hand the keys to the valet. "Our takeout will be brought up to my door. I got tons of different Chinese food. Does that work?"

"Chinese food is perfect."

They head into the elevator and ride up to Harry's floor. He leads her into his condo and gets her a glass of water.

"This is a great place." She tells him.

"Thanks, I like it a lot."

"And there's your view, your couch is in the perfect spot." Y/N goes over to it and sits down. Harry sits down next to her. He puts his arm around her shoulders.

"Is this okay?" He asks softly.

"Yeah." Her eyes flit to his lips. "How am I supposed to kiss you with my busted lip?"

"Your bottom lip isn't busted." He reaches with his free hand and presses his thumb into it. "Wanna give it a try?"

"Yes." She nods and lets her eyes flutter closed.

Harry's lips gently takes Y/N's bottom lip between them. The tip of his tongue swipes over it before giving it a little suck. He pulls back to look at her. "Okay?"

"Yeah, do it again." She slides her arms around his neck and pulls him close.

Y/N parts her lips and licks into Harry's mouth. He moans softly against her and grips her jaw. They both sink into it a little more, but Y/N whimpers and pulls back.

"This is so annoying." She frowns. "It hurts too much."

"How's your neck feel?"

"Fine, why?"

"Can I kiss you there?"

"Yes." She nods. "And I work from home, so you can leave marks."

"You get better by the second." He grinned and leaned forward to start kissing on her neck.

He licks up the side and nips at the spot just under her earlobe. Y/N slides her fingers into Harry's hair and moans as his teeth graze her skin.

"Can't handle an alcohol wipe to a wound, but you're panting like a dog from getting your neck bitten." He smirks. "Interesting."

"I'm a very complex person."

"I can see that." He looks down between them, then back up at her. "Can I go down on you?"

"What?!" She laughs. "Why, so you can do it for two seconds and pretend like you did me a huge favor just to get your dick wet?"

"Um, no, because I like it and I want to taste you and make you feel good."

"Be serious."

"I am." He puts his hand on her shoulder and lays her down. "Let me prove it."

"Be my guest." She opens her legs. "Rip them like you said you would have."

Harry rucks up the skirt of Y/N's dress and gets a grip on the crotch of her tights. He rips them easily and is delighted to see her bare cunt. He spits down onto it and puts his mouth on her, sucking his spit back in, then spitting it into her. He drags his tongue up her clit and swirls the tip of his tongue around it. He spreads her legs wider, pressing his large hands into her thighs. He moans as he sucks on her clit, and moans harder when he feels her fingers suddenly tugging at his roots.

He brings his tongue back down to her opening and licks inside, sucking on her entire pussy. Y/N moans and writhes under him, feeling squirmy and hot and good. His tongue curls up against her spongey front wall and he brings his thumb to her clit to rub on.

"Oh, shit." She gasps and arches her back. "Fuck, just like that, don't stop." Her head moves from side to side and her hips roll towards Harry's mouth. She tugs on his hair and pushes his face harder against her. He moans and chuckles lowly into her, eating her sloppily without a care in the world. "I'm getting close." She mewls. "Please, don't stop. Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, dddddohhhhhh my god!" She comes around his tongue in waves, grinding herself down against him.

Harry pulls back just a touch, licking and sucking over Y/N's folds, then brings himself to hover over her. He pecks her lips. His nose squishes to her and they both smile. The doorbell rings and they both sit up.

"That's the food." Harry says.

"Great. I bet it's piping hot."

"Definitely."

"So, it'll need time to cool down." She stands up with him. "Maybe we could continue this in your bedroom to pass the time?"

And that's how Y/N ended up missing the fireworks at Francesca's party. She missed them at Harry's as well, but that was only because he was fucking into her so deeply that he was able to give her a vaginal orgasm. 2024 is going to be a great year, she can feel it.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #doctor!h #doctorry

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ruh--roh-raggy · 3 months

Text

The Bunny and Her Big Scary Dog (Punk! William Afton x Fem! Reader)

Hello hello! More punk Will is finally here! I was having such bad writers block getting this update out, so sorry if it seems a bit staggered pacing wise and as I'm sure many of you know unfortunately time does not stop just because I want to sit down and write, so apologies for the delay. BUT! Now we have a new story with the big strong man, it's gunna be fluffy, it's gunna be sweet, we're going to get more scary metal man Will being an absolute SIMP for reader, it's gunna be great. I hope you enjoy, if you would like to be added to my rage list, please let me know!

WARNINGS: Some swearing, age gap (Reader is in her 20's Will is in his 50's), all fluff

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 2,745

“This definitely isn't what I thought you meant when you asked me to bring you home but I’m definitely not complaining.” Will smiles, leaning down to capture your lips in a chaste kiss. You laid in a mess of tangled limbs in bed, Will’s arm wrapped around your waist as your head laid against his strong chest. You smiled as you listened to the steady beating of his heart, your fingers absentmindedly tracing over the intricate lines of his tattoos that wound their way around his forearm. Will had noticed that as your weed fueled make out session on the hood of your car had died down your unwavering confidence was slowly replaced with anxious fidgeting. “What's on your mind, bunny?” He asks softly. “I can see something kicking around in that pretty little head of yours.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, hesitating to respond. Embarrassment burned in your chest as you finally spoke up, “I know I act all tough and confident, but I… can we take things slow?” You whisper into the deafening stillness. His large hand was warm against your lower back, his thumb stroking the space soothingly. You were honestly a bit ashamed over the fact you asked to slow down, especially since you were the one who initiated the intimate moment between the two of you. Will was experienced, he knew what he wanted, you were still in the process of figuring that all out. Before your mind had the chance to wander about how you would somehow manage to mess this all up, how he wouldn't want to wait for you, he spoke up.

“Of course rabbit. We can move as fast or as slow as you want.” You rest your chin on his chest so you can look up at him, Will smiles at the way your eyes sparkle in the soft light. He cradles your head in his hand, his thumb tracing over the shell of your ear making you shiver. “Are you sure you're comfortable spending the night?” He asks softly. “We have all the time in the world, there's no rush.”

You nod, “I want to be with you, Will.” Your voice trembles as you speak. He carefully guides you upwards, letting your lips linger over his as his eyes scan over your face.

“How did I manage to win over such a pretty little thing like you?” You giggle, nuzzling your face against his neck to try and hide your flustered expression.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed Will, but, this?” You make a vague gesture to his entirety. “Hot as fuck.” He chuckles, you smile in return, resting your cheek against his chest so you could still look up at him. “Not to mention you’re sweet, charming, funny, and honestly one of the most amazing guys I’ve ever met.”

“You know I still could be a murderer.” You laugh, rolling off of him, bouncing off the mattress slightly as you fall onto the bed. “I am just some random man you met at a metal show.” He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his side. He places a soft kiss to your lips, you let out a content hum as your hands trail over the vast expanse of coarse hair that covers his broad chest.

“Coming from the man that holds me like I’m made of glass?” You tease with a wink.

“How could I not?” His large hand trails down your thigh, hiking your leg over his waist. Your face grew warm at the sheer difference in size between his body and yours. “You’re like a little doll, I’d hate to break something so small and fragile.” He smirks at your flustered state as he holds you close, your chin held between his thumb and finger as his warm breath bounces off your lips. You whimper softly as his thumb strokes along your jaw. He chuckles, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Get some sleep rabbit.” He cradles your head to his chest, the steady beating of his heart and the warmth of being pressed so tightly against him quickly lulling you to sleep.

You woke up the next morning cuddling a pillow to your chest, your face buried against it and you couldn’t help but smile as you inhaled the scent of Will’s cologne. You hear the sound of his footsteps padding up the hallway, the smell of breakfast food slowly filling the room. You sat up and stretched, a sleepy smirk spreading across your lips at the sight of Will carrying in two plates piled high with bacon, toast, eggs, and home fries. “Good morning rabbit.” You shiver at the sound of his gravelly morning voice.

“Good morning handsome.” You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you look at him hungrily. Will’s shirtless form, sweatpants sitting low on his hips showing off his burly, muscular body. He hums as he pulls you into a kiss, smiling against your lips.

“I could definitely get used to this.” He chuckles against your lips, your arms wrapping around his strong shoulders as he effortlessly maneuvers you into his lap. “How did you sleep, sweet girl?”

“That was the best night's sleep I’ve gotten in a long time.” You giggle, letting him cradle you in his arms, dipping you back slightly as he trails kisses along your jawline. “You even went through all the trouble of making breakfast.”

“Well, I’ve been told before that I fall into the category of… oh, what are you guys calling it these days, a DILF?” You choked on your sip of coffee, sputtering and coughing through laughter as you set it down on the nightstand. “It only makes sense for me to cook breakfast for my girl.” He winks.

“Thank you regardless.” You share a laugh. After breakfast Will left you to shower, you smiled as you padded back into the room to find a set of fresh clothes laid out on the bed waiting for you. The thick, soft T-shirt was warm against your freshly washed skin. You pulled in the pair of too long lounge pants, rolling them at the waist to shorten them but even then they pooled at your ankles. You wandered down the hall, your brows furrowing slightly as the sound of music met your ears. You headed downstairs, standing in the middle of the living room. Bright sunlight filtered through sheer cream curtains that hung in the windows, a warm breeze drifting in from the outside. Following the sound you made your way through the kitchen to stumble across a door that was left open by a crack. Pushing through it you found Will, sitting on one of his work benches in the garage, a small amp at his side and a sleek black bass perched in his lap. You leaned against the door frame, watching him with a small smile. He was too lost in his playing to even realize you were there, a deep, rumbly riff rattling its way through your ribcage.

“You really are full of surprises, huh?” His eyes snap up to you when you suddenly speak up.

“I guess you could say that.” He greets you softly, beckoning you over. He sets the base down, hopping off of his seat. He wraps his arms around you once you're within reach, your hands sliding over his chest as he rocks you side to side for a moment. “You know, my guitar could use some new strings. Would you want to take a ride into town with me today?”

You beam up at him as he asks, “I would love to.” You squealed as he scooped you up in his arms, carrying you back into the house to finish getting ready before you climbed into the passenger seat of his car. Will wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him as his lips find yours with ease. You let out a flustered giggle as he pulls away. Will slotted a cassette tape into the player of the old car, The Misfits blaring to life through the speakers. The entire way to your destination Will had you laughing, the goofier side of his personality shining through as he recounted his time as a gangly, awkward twenty-something year old in college.

“They had this pale, string bean with dark circles under his eyes and box dyed black hair, face full of metal, the whole nine.” You rested your forehead against his shoulder, attempting to cover up your laughing fit. “The judges were probably like what the fuck is this? What cemetery did they find this dumbass moping around in?” He chuckles along with you for a moment. “Then I went on to kick all their asses and that's how I became the ‘Collegiate Robotics Champion of Utah’ or whatever bullshit title it was.” He glances down at you briefly, a smile playing on his lips. “I can't get over how pretty you are.” Your cheeks warmed at his compliment.

“Oh, um, thank- thank you Will.” You stutter bashfully. You hesitantly mean forward, your lips pressing softly against his scruffy cheek. You pulled into the lot, a small strip mall of shops with the music store at the center. Will wraps an arm around your waist once you stand from the car, pulling you to him and placing a kiss to your head before taking your head and leading you towards the door. You trail closely behind him as you enter the music store, your eyes wandering the racks of different guitars that lined the walls.

“Mr. Afton!” The twenty something year old behind the counter calls out, giving the older man a casual wave. His blond hair curled out from underneath his beanie, an old Dead Kennedy’s T-shirt hanging loosely off his scrawny frame. “Got a new eight string that might interest you, pretty sexy, pretty cool.” He rambles off as the two of you approach. He shoots you a flirtatious smile once he notices you're at his side. “And who might this pretty little lady be? Your daughter?”

“That’s my girlfriend, chief.” The cashier pales at the realization. His mouth falls open to hurry out an apology but Will just waves him off. “Guess I don't look too bad for my age.” He jokes with a laugh. Will goes on to ask him for a couple packs of strings and to see that eight string he mentioned. “I thought he was going to throw up.” He remarks as he turns to you, making you laugh.

“You don't seem to realize how scary you are.” You giggle in response. “He just called you old and tried to hit on your girlfriend in one move, I'd probably throw up too.”

“I guess you have a point, sweetheart.” He chuckles. He lets out a long whistle as the employee carries out the guitar from the back.

“She is a beauty.” He remarks excitedly as he passes the instrument over the counter to Wil. Your cheeks grow warm as you watch his massive hand wrap around the extra wide fretboard with ease.

“How much?” The two chat while Will idly strums the guitar, even without being plugged into an amp you didn't miss the soft melodic tune he effortlessly played. “Fuck it, you sold me, I'll take it.” The case is retrieved from the back, the guitar safely tucked away for transport. Will shoots a wave over his shoulder as the two of you walk out. He slides the guitar into the back seat of his car before taking your hand and pulling you along to the other stores. You wandered around, laughing at all of Will’s jokes, both of you growing slightly flustered whenever he would steal a chaste kiss from your lips. You paused at one of the racks in the clothing store you had wandered into. Your fingers running over the deep blue fabric of a denim jacket that had caught your attention.

“How long have you had your battle jacket?” You ask as you look up at him.

“Since college, maybe even a little earlier.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder, glancing down at the jacket before his eyes trail back up to you. “Why, want one of your own?” He asks with a smile.

“Well I can't keep stealing yours.” You wink.

“I don't know bunny, I'm hoping I get to see you in only my battle jacket one of these days.” He smirks down at you, chuckling at your flustered expression. “But if you want one of your own I'd love to help, I think I have some patches at the house you can steal.”

You sat on the floor across from Will, a shoebox full of old patches sat between you. “Oh, can I use this one?” You ask, pulling out a large black square with fat, red block letters that read ‘PUNCH MORE NAZIS’.

William beamed at your choice, “that's my girl.” His hand falls to rest on the top of your head. “Excellent choice, and I told you, use whatever you want.” He chuckles. Will holds a couple pins between his teeth, helping you orientate the patch how you want it before securing it in place to sew. “What's that look for?” He asks when he notices you studying him, a small smile on your lips.

“I just like watching you work, you're a lot better at this than I am.” You giggle.

“Well, I'm sure I've had a lot more practice.” He grins. “Come here, let me teach you a trick.” He situated you in between his legs, your back resting comfortably against his chest as he worked with the sewing needle in front of you. He makes a circle with the thread, wrapping it around the needle a few times before pulling it through, the thread eventually gathering into a perfect knot at the end. He walks you through his process for sewing on patches, carefully explaining to you the best way to stitch so you wouldn't stab your fingers, how to get through really thick patches, and how to secure your stitches without having to deal with all of the obnoxious knotting. He held you close, making you laugh, occasionally kissing your cheek in the middle of his explanation. “Damn, your jacket’s going to be even cooler than mine soon.” He chuckles. His face suddenly lights up as he gets an idea. “Wait here, there's something I want to give you.” He steals a kiss as he stands before jogging into the other room, he comes back a few moments later with his own battle jacket in hand. He smiles at you, hooking one finger behind a loose section of a patch and ripping it clean off. He hands it over to you, your fingers run over the dried paint, this was obviously a patch he made himself.

“Only posers die.” You read with a smile, your thumb tracing over the rabbit silhouette at the bottom. “I love it.”

“Now you can have a little piece of me wherever you go.” He winks, pulling you back into his arms as he returns to his position behind you.

“You're acting like I'm not going to use my big scary dog privileges everywhere I go.” You giggle, squealing as Will nuzzles his face against the side of your neck, his beard tickling your skin.

“Oh, I'm your big scary dog, now am I?” He responds with a laugh, the emphasis on the fact that he was yours bringing a smile to his face. “Well, I’m glad to know that I make my little bunny feel safe.” You lean up, capturing his lips with your own before turning back to the task at hand

You slid your arms into the too big sleeves, the new denim still stiff from lack of wear. You stood in front of a full body mirror, smiling as you turned slowly, seeing all the patches and progress you and Will had made on your battle jacket in just one day. “Do you like it?” You bound over to him, your body thudding against his as you slip into his arms.

“I love it, thank you for all your help.” He cups your cheek gently, his thumb running over your warm skin.

“Bunny?” He asks softly. You hum in response, your eyes glimmering with happiness as you gazed up at him. “Would you like to stay another night?”

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