#this might be too much too early in the morning | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zepskies · 15 hours ago

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Oooh yay!! I'm so excited to dive into your thoughts, friend! 😜💜

I LOVE that you have notes! You spoil me. 🥰

Controlled breathing was necessary. But also, I feel like there were some great layers here. Dean allowing himself to feel good? And not just for one night. Admitting it and actually pursuing more? Yessssss. He deserves that.

*breath in, breathe out* loll

Aww thank you for that observation! Dean's finally acknowledging and breaking down those barriers within himself for "something good." 💗

Him sleeping better with her next to him--a classic. Never gets old. <3

Exactly, that's how I feel! 🥹 (We both know I'm a sap lol)

This whole paragraph was beautiful. Also, it was a moment where, if someone simply handed it to me with no other context, I would know it was yours. It felt like you.

The way you just gripped my heart tight and gave me the warm fuzzies. 🥹🥹 "It felt like you." What an amazing compliment! Thank you, my friend. 💕

Her rings being such an identifier was a great detail that fit so well with the reveal at the end. Smart, smart writing!

Aw I'm glad you liked that! That came over from Maybe More Than Enough. I just like the idea of her having silver rings as a fashion statement, a habit, and a good hunter tidbit all in one. 💜

Loved this! Definitely have had something similar in my head while daydreaming. A little sassy, but mostly lovingly concerned. (Again, so very you.)

It's his grouchy little face -- you just wanna smooth out those frowny lines. 😂😂 Aww thank you! Sassy, but mostly lovingly concerned is how I feel like I'd try to be with him. 💗

My stomach was doing something different this time. LMAO. The end of the first section--how he still had questions but just decided to trust her and her judgment. Brilliant. And proved that he really is ready for more.

LMAO I do not blame you on that one. 🤣

Aw Dean. It's mostly that he trusts her, but I feel like it's also a little bit of him "not wanting to look needy," asking too many questions about where she's been. Even if it's both, it's still a sign that he cares and he wants to be there for her regardless.

And in that first section, I simply could not figure out what she was off doing or what it meant for them. The reveal was as satisfying as the guessing. That might actually be my favorite part of this piece--the fact that I could not figure out where it was going. But also, she spent her early morning baking him a pie? My heart got gooier than its filling! =']

Ahaha honestly I feel accomplished that I managed to stump you at first! I threw in a couple of really tiny hints, but I hoped that the reveal would be surprising and satisfying enough, so I'm very glad you think so! She really did spend half the night and the early morning prepping that damn pie for him! 😂

And it just got better from there. He forgot his own birthday? OUCH. His emotion over her gesture? Love, love, love. And their use of touch? So tender and sweet. So, yeah, I was a fan of this one. xD<3

He really did in this one! Like, I feel like the brothers don't make a big deal about birthdays as well as holidays, so with everything they always have going on, HC that Dean forgets his own birthday half the time in the later seasons. I felt like her doing this for him would be a small but significant way of her showing that she's "all in."

Thank you again SO much for your lovely comments and observations!! You totally made my day, Larrs. 💕💕

It's not his birthday yet IRL, but we're celebrating it a bit early in this story. 😂

Restless Nights

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: After a tryst you instigated in the backseat of his Baby, you and Dean have started something new. He’s just not sure that you’re as “all in” as you claimed to be.

AN: As promised, here's a bonus one-shot to follow Maybe More Than Enough, though it can be read as a stand-alone. This is based on a request from @lacilou, one of my lovely Patreon members!

Bonus! It fulfills the @spnfanficpond monthly prompt. (Can’t give it away until the end though!)

Request: A Dean story based on the song “I Remember You” by Skid Row.

Word Count: 1.2K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, fluff, implied mentions of sex, bit of a twist ending…

Dean woke to the sound of pouring rain hitting the roof of the bunker.

It must’ve been some torrential downpour, because it took a lot for him to hear anything of the outside world from inside this place. Good thing the old heaters kept out the January cold, too. Nothing worse than frigid rain.

Blearily he cracked his eyes open, unearthed an arm from where it was tucked under his pillow, and carefully raised his phone to check the time, trying not to let the light from the screen burn his retinas in the still dark room.

4:00 a.m.

He groaned. Goddamn it.

He turned over onto his other side to face where you should’ve been lying next to him. He frowned when he saw nothing but the sheets pulled back and a dented, empty pillow.

No matter how he fought it down, a small tinge of worry, and the beginnings of disappointment churned in his gut. His brows furrowed.

Did you regret it already?

After his first make out session with you (turned more session) in the backseat of his Baby, you two struck a tentative agreement to figure what this could be—more than hunting partners, allies, and friends. Despite the fact that you kissed him first (a fact he didn’t easily let you forget), afterwards, you’d been a little hesitant about what came next.

“We take it day by day,” he’d told you, with a sizzling kiss that stole your breath. “All I know is…this feels good.”

It felt right. You had definitely agreed with that.

Dean sighed through his nose, turning back onto his other side. It wasn’t unusual for him to be a light (restless) sleeper, but the handful of times you’d joined him in his bed had been beginning to make his nights calmer. He was actually starting to sleep through until morning.

What’s more, after years of looking into your eyes and seeing all the possibilities of what if, he was finally getting to make those images solid, and real. He could touch them, taste them, feel them under his calloused hands. He finally had you for real.

He looked past your empty spot in his bed and didn’t see your phone, or any of your rings on the nightstand. They were the first things you put on in the morning, and the last things you took off at night.

If those were gone…

His disappointment was settling high in his chest now; an ache approaching pain.

Until he heard the light sound of bare feet padding back toward the bed. Your hand slid gently up his arm, and after the surprise wore off, the corners of his lips tugged upwards. Your hair was a bit wild and frizzy. It tickled his neck and shoulder when you leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“What’s this?” you whispered, swiping two fingers between the crunch in his brows. Dean relaxed with a small smile.

“Nothin’,” he claimed. His voice was deep and rough with sleep. “Had an appointment to get to or something?”

You smiled and settled into bed, embracing him from behind. He turned onto his back and welcomed you over, with an arm curling around your waist. He rested his hand on yours when it smoothed across his chest.

Subtly glancing down, he didn’t find any of the silver you wore on the daily, including the ring with a small turquoise stone he’d bought you a couple weeks ago, on a hunt in Denver. That one, you now almost never took off.

“I put them away in a drawer,” you said, wiggling your fingers under his hand. Your hand felt dry, and a little like you'd been handling something dusty. Had you been up reading in the library again, lost track of time? “When I woke up, I saw one fell off the nightstand. Have a feeling it had something to do with the bedframe knocking against it.”

At that, Dean couldn’t contain his lazy smirk.

“My bad,” he said, sounding anything but sorry.

You laughed, shaking your head. You still laid a kiss below his shoulder before you settled back down. He gave your waist a gentle squeeze, pressing a kiss of his own to your forehead. A deep breath fell from between his lips, and his eyes closed.

A question was on the tip of his tongue. Where you were, why you got up. Was it something he could help with? Or was it one of those moments you needed to have alone, not unlike the times you gave him to settle with his thoughts, after a hunt gone sideways. If it was important, you’d level with him, wouldn’t you?

So he let it be.

In the morning, you somehow once again managed to get out of bed without him feeling it. He didn’t hear you either. Curiosity led him down the hall and glancing inside the cracked door of Sam’s room. It was empty, his running shoes gone from the side of his bed. Dean rolled his eyes.

All right, Lance.

Oh, wait, that was biking. …Whatever.

Dean’s next path inevitably took him down to the kitchen. His stomach was already percolating—in need of good coffee and (hopefully) good food.

The smell wafting from the kitchen surprised him, however. Cinnamon apples?

He turned the corner, and there he found you.

The fuck?

You looked a bit of a mess. Your hair was thrown up into a haphazard bun, and you’d stolen his apron. Though in his eyes, you made it look better, the white fabric hugging around your curves like you were Rachel Ray or something. You were frazzled when he came downstairs, but happy to see him. You beckoned him over and sat him down at the small kitchen table.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on here?” he asked, eying you curiously.

“Just stay there!” you called from the kitchen. He heard you opening the oven, cursing when you nearly dropped something.

What the hell were you doing baking before 9:00 a.m.?

He turned to ask you what was going on (and if you needed help), but before the words could come out of his mouth, you came over and carefully set down the pie in front of him. The rich aroma, the golden flaky crust, the flecks of cinnamon and glossy apples peeking out from the divots in said crust—it all had Dean’s mouth watering, and his shocked gaze fixed on the shiny pastry.

He startled a little when he felt your hands on his shoulders, sliding part of the way down his arms. You kissed the side of his head.

“Thought I wouldn’t remember, did you?” you teased. “Happy Birthday, baby.”

Dean’s throat constricted. He tried not to show it, but your gaze gentled when he finally met yours, like you were seeing through all his layers anyway. He realized then what you were probably working on last night, and he really couldn’t fucking believe it.

He’d forgotten his own birthday. Couldn’t see much use in celebrating, when year after crappy year…

But he closed a hand over yours on his shoulder, and he brought your hand to his lips.

Every word he couldn’t yet say to you was etched in that single gesture.

AN: Short and angsty sweet! lol And the monthly prompt was "pie!" 🥧 For Dean of course. 😂

Hope you guys enjoy this one! 💜

Join Patreon 🌟 For early access to new stories, bonus content, first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

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nadvs · 11 hours ago

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hard to ignore (two-shot) (part two)

pairing singledad! zach maclaren x nanny! female reader

summary when you’re offered a job as a nanny, you can tell right away that you’ll grow fond of the little girl you’re taking care of. things are easy to manage until you realize you’re falling for her dad.

content warning parental abandonment

» part one

» masterlist

Zach gets you and his daughter box seats for his next home game.

It happens to be on your first day back at work after his family leaves and he jokes that sooner is better than later, not only because his team might get knocked out of the playoffs, but also because Ella could change her mind about wanting to come.

The private space overlooking the stadium is small, only a handful of other people there, as the late afternoon sun shines over the rich green field.

You learned that Zach is a major league soccer player minutes into meeting him. You knew he had an unusual life and a certain level of notoriety as a professional athlete. But seeing the crowds filling the seats below you makes it real to you.

The music and the announcer’s voice boom through the stadium, fireworks going off as players rush the field. All this craziness doesn’t match the man you know. Zach is kind and humble and beneath his silly sense of humor, he has a gentleness to him that you’d never expect from someone whose last name is sprawled over fans’ jerseys, who’s getting cheered for so loudly that it’s deafening.

Ella excitedly claps when her father appears on the stadium screen, his face hard as he jogs under the bright lights. You gaze ahead in awe, unable to believe that this is the world he lives in when he’s not at the house, running around with his daughter, thanking you for everything you do.

After the game ends in a draw, you take Ella home in time for dinner. As you drive, wipers cleaning away the drizzle that just started to fall, she excitedly rambles about the experience from the backseat. You smile to yourself, glad that she enjoyed herself and proud that you’re the reason she went.

As usual, Ella slips out of her chair with a mouthful of food when she hears the front door open halfway into dinner. You watch her dart out of the dining room, listening to the huff Zach lets out every time his daughter roughly launches herself into his arms.

“That was so cool!” you overhear.

“Really?” he says. “You didn’t get bored?”

“Um, it was kind of too long,” she says, “but I had pictures to color.”

“Appreciate your honesty,” Zach replies with a laugh.

They round the corner to enter the dining room and when Zach’s eyes land on you, your heart does a somersault.

“Hey,” he says to you, nervous.

“Hi,” you reply. “Thanks for the fancy seats.”

“They were alright?”

“Good enough for two princesses,” you tease.

“Princess ballerinas,” Ella corrects you as she sits down again.

“Right,” you say. “Sorry. I keep forgetting that we’re princess ballerinas now.”

Zach mirrors your smile, loving the feeling of sharing a moment like this with you. You stand to clean your plate and it reminds him of what his mother said a couple of nights ago. That you look at him the same way he looks at you.

He hopes that it’s true, because he can’t take his eyes off of you. He’s a little embarrassed that you saw him in a match. He’s always loved soccer, but he never liked how much attention is on him as a major league player.

“Maybe you should wait out the rain,” Zach says to you. “It started coming down hard on my drive home.”

“Good idea,” you say, happy to spend more time with him.

The rest of dinner consists of Ella happily chattering with you and Zach. As she clears her plate, Zach’s phone buzzes on the table top. His lips purse in worry at the notification, and then he shows you the severe thunderstorm warning message on his screen.

“That looks bad,” you say. “How long is it supposed to go on for?”

“It says into the early morning,” Zach answers. “Do you want to crash here?”

“I’m sure I could make it home,” you say. “I’ll just drive slowly.”

Zach’s lips part, and then he closes his mouth, simply nodding.

“What?” you chuckle. His eyes dart away.

“Just worried about you,” he admits. You huff an endeared laugh.

“Fine. I’ll sleep here,” you decide.

He sighs a breath of relief and says, “Thanks.”

Zach takes Ella to bed and you settle on the couch, glad you already have everything you’ll need in your overnight bag in the guest room. You eventually hear his footsteps coming down the stairs over the sounds of the television and the rain hammering down on the roof.

He sits on the other end of the couch next to you, so far that a person could easily sit between you. It’s typical Zach, never getting too close to you. The only time he’s ever touched you is when he shook your hand before your interview half a year ago.

“She fell asleep while I was explaining what offside means,” he says with an adorably puzzled expression. “Trying not to be offended.”

“I can’t believe she’s actually interested in soccer,” you say.

“Ouch.” Zach puts his hand over his heart. “Okay, I’m offended now.”

“I mean because you said she never cared before,” you laugh.

“I asked her so many times if she’d want to come to a game,” he huffs. “But you suggest it once and she’s immediately in. She always listens to you.”

“Not when I’m trying to convince her to leave the park,” you say. He chuckles. “Can you believe she’s starting kindergarten soon?”

Admittedly, Zach’s concerned about it. In less than a month, Ella will be going to school and he never was one to have much anxiety before he became a father, but all he does now is worry. He doesn’t want any teachers or kids to be harsh with his little girl. She’s already been through enough.

“She’ll be okay,” you say.

“What?”

“You have that worried look on your face,” you tell him. “She’ll love school. I’m sure of it.”

“You can read me pretty well,” he says, smiling. You shrug timidly, thinking back to how quickly he’d noticed something was bothering you on the night of Ella’s birthday.

“What?” he asks.

“It goes both ways,” you admit. “You saw right through me after the party.”

Zach’s jaw tightens, the playfulness between you replaced by a fragile air. He takes a breath before speaking. He knows he needs to have this conversation with you.

“Do you feel better about what she said?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply. Now that you’ve had some time to process, you’re okay. “How about you?”

“Well,” he begins, nerves tightening in his stomach, “it wasn’t easy to hear. Ella shouldn’t have to wish she had a different mom. Jade should be here for her.”

He’s never said her name. He’s never looked like this before, his eyes avoiding yours, hand trembling a bit as he scratches his jaw. You can tell this is hard for him to talk about. But he’s choosing to do it with you.

“You said ex-wife that night, but she was never my wife,” Zach admits.

“Oh. Sorry. I just assumed.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I know I haven’t told you much. When we talked that night, it reminded me of just how much you don’t know about it. I just… I hope you know that you’re… you’re so much more than Ella’s nanny. You’re our friend. And you’re obviously a mother figure to her. And it feels weird that you don’t know what happened.”

His words sink into you, every syllable having an effect on your heartbeat.

“What happened?”

“Ella was a surprise,” he tells you. “Jade and I were dating in our senior year of college when we found out she was pregnant. And then I got drafted into the league and we graduated and everything was happening so fast, but we were happy and… I stayed happy and she didn’t.”

You nibble on your bottom lip, looking at him as his eyes stay trained off of yours.

“We broke up a few months after Ella was born. But we were both sure we could handle co-parenting. She stayed at home while I worked. I could see she didn’t like it, though. She wasn’t a bad mother or anything. She just wasn’t very… affectionate with Ella.”

Your chest tightens. It’s painful to imagine Ella wanting love and not getting it.

“I don’t know. I thought she’d eventually feel how I feel about being a parent. I tried everything,” Zach says, remembering how he’d encouraged Jade to go to therapy or take time away or work while they hired help. It was like she was stuck in her unhappiness. “But then she left and… that was it.”

He finally looks at you and the tenderness in your eyes gives him a breath of fresh air. It’s what you do. Just by being you, you give him the push to stay hopeful that he and his daughter will be okay.

“We weren’t in a good place when you came. But you made things so much better,” he says. “You do an amazing job taking care of her. I really appreciate it.”

Your eyes light up, the smile on your face gentle.

“Thank you for saying that,” you say. “And thank you for telling me the full story. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Zach sighs now that the weight of reliving it is gone.

“I really do love her. I meant it when I said it.” At this point, you’re sure you love him, too, but you wouldn’t dare say it out loud. “And I feel lucky to get to watch her grow up. This doesn’t even feel like a job to me anymore.”

“So, what I’m hearing is, you don’t want the pay?” he says. You find relief in his joke, tossing your head back with a laugh. “Seriously, though, let me know if you need me to keep things the same while you’re part-time during the school year. I don’t mind.”

“Wait, are you offering to pay me for hours I’m not even working?” you chuckle. “Zach, no. I’m good. I have other things lined up. But thank you.”

“What? Everyone knows you should always accept free money.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say. “How do you even have the energy to joke around right now? I just watched you run around for ninety minutes.”

Like always, Zach blushes when you bring up his job. He’s intense and focused on the pitch, but he’s different when he’s at ease at home.

“There’s a break in the middle,” he replies.

“I stand corrected,” you say. “So, how’d you get into soccer?”

Your conversation quickly and easily drifts into topics you hadn’t explored before, the storm raging outside as you learn more about him and he learns more about you. He’s still on the other end of the couch, but soon, his arm is resting against the back of it, his hand inches away from you as you sink into the soft cushions, beaming at each other as you talk.

You don’t want to stop, but eventually you can’t stifle your yawn, prompting Zach to check his watch.

“Jeez,” he says. “Ella went down three hours ago.”

“Are you serious?” You sit up. “That flew by.”

Zach knew that the more he learned about you, the more of a goner he’d be. It feels like he just went on the best date of his life and all he did was sit on his couch and talk.

There’s something between you and he hopes that it’s not just his infatuation misguiding him.

────୨ৎ────

You were right. He had nothing to worry about. Ella’s more than happy at school. It’s only a week into the year and she’s already naming all her new friends when Zach picks her up Friday afternoon.

Her first dance recital is tonight and he’s looking forward to seeing you and his family there. Ella had even mentioned that her other grandparents could come. They were elated to get the invitation.

And of course, when he arrives at the studio that evening, you’re already there, reliable and steady like you always are. You greet him and his family warmly and introduce yourself to Jade’s parents.

It feels wrong to hear you refer to yourself as Ella’s nanny. You’ve been in his life for eight months now and you’ve nestled your way into his soul so deeply that he knows you’ll stay with him forever.

He’s been grappling with this since he first realized he had feelings for you; this bothersome sense of wrong. He can’t pursue you. Technically, no matter how much it doesn’t feel like it, he is your boss. He pays you to take care of his child. If things went sideways, it could push you to leave.

Although he’s never felt this much love for a woman in his life, it’d be selfish. He can’t do it to Ella. He didn’t even want to date other women when Jade was still around simply because it could confuse his daughter.

But you’re different.

His thoughts are interrupted when you look at him, pulling him out of his haze.

“I saved us seats,” you tell him.

Zach’s sitting between you and his father when the recital starts. Eventually, Ella drifts across the middle of the floor between the other dancers.

“This is the part she’s nervous about,” you whisper to him, recalling how she’d told you that this part in the choreography makes her trip sometimes.

You watch her hop sideways, focused as the music grows faster. You’re so on edge that you don’t realize your hand slips into Zach’s, squeezing nervously. She lands her last skip and rejoins the group. You let out a sigh of relief. Then, you look down, seeing your fingers wrapped around Zach’s.

“Sorry,” you say, trying to laugh it off as you pull your hand back. “I think I’m taking a five-year-old’s dance recital a little too seriously.”

Zach can only offer a tight smile. His team’s inching closer to advancing to the championship semi-finals and the pressure has never been heavier, but even that hasn’t affected him like the tension he’s feeling right now. His whole body is on fire from your touch, and it won’t go away.

When the recital comes to an end, Zach leans closer to you to murmur over the applause surrounding you.

“You going out to dinner with us?” he asks.

“Do I have to?” you quip.

“What, you got a date or something?” He worries that the joke was too much. Too flirty.

But you laugh and say, “I haven’t had a date or something in forever. Yeah, I’ll come.” Although it’s hard to believe that a woman like you is single, he’s glad you are.

The eight of you sit in the busy restaurant, making conversation. As Zach expected, Ella insisted she sit next to you. You have endless patience for her, listening to her talk, answering her questions, letting her pick off your plate. He would move mountains for his child. He can tell you’d do the same.

Zach picks up the bill and you all say your goodbyes to Jade’s parents, who insisted they didn’t need to stay the night. Before you head out, you tell his family it was nice to see them again. He can tell you’re a little surprised when his mother pulls you in for a hug, but you kindly return it.

Connie obviously appreciates everything you’ve done for her son and granddaughter. Zach tries not to daydream too much, but he likes imagining being your boyfriend and telling you that his mom called that you’d become something one day.

When you say bye to Zach, your gazes meet like you’ve been waiting for a private moment for ages. Things changed on the night you stayed over. You went from friends to a gray area of something more, neither of you acting on it but knowing it’s there.

Only an hour after Ella falls asleep, Zach’s parents and sister turn in for the night, tired from their drive in. Zach is too wired, silently sitting in his living room, his tea not having its usual effect of soothing him.

He goes through his camera roll, wishing he could go for a drive to relax, but not wanting to leave his daughter in case she needs him. He stares at a photo his mother took of you and him and Ella earlier tonight after the recital, Ella’s hair frizzy from all the jumping around she did.

His smile is wide and so is yours and you look like more than just someone he hired to help take care of his daughter. You look like a family.

He opens your conversation and sends you the photo. It’s nearing 10 p.m. and he’s not sure if you’re already asleep, but you respond a minute later: Aw I love this. Thanks :) How’s your night going?

Zach responds: Good… but everyone’s asleep and I’m still wide awake. Yours?

You reply: Is your tea not working?

He smiles to himself and texts back: Not this time.

You text: I’m kind of wired, too.

How come?

Not sure.

He replies with a joke: Could be Ella’s fault. I saw her eat a lot of your dinner. It’s probably hunger keeping you awake.

Once again, his mind drifts to the way your palm felt against the back of his hand tonight. Then, he hears a door open upstairs. In case it’s Ella, he quietly rushes up the stairs to run into his mom, who’s leaving the bathroom.

“Sorry,” he whispers when he startles her. “I thought Ella woke up and I didn’t want her to think I was gone.”

“I’m sure she’ll be deep asleep until the morning,” Connie says. She notices he’s still in the clothes he wore to the recital. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I’d go for a drive, but I–”

“If she wakes up, I’m here and if she needs you, I’ll call. Go. You need to take care of yourself, too.”

“I’m fine.”

“Go for a drive,” his mother insists. “She’s okay. I promise.”

Zach considers it. With work and Ella and you, his mind has been sort of chaotic. A drive, even a short one, will give him some relief.

“Thanks,” he finally says, giving his mom a grateful smile.

The streetlights plunge him in and out of darkness as he drives through town. When he got in the car, the impulse to go see you seemed ridiculous. With every minute that passes, it feels less and less silly.

Zach eventually pulls over and looks at his phone, staring at the text message he sent you ten minutes ago. How could he even ask to come over without coming on too strong or crossing a boundary?

He’s not sure if he believed in signs from the universe before, but when you text him right when he’s considering if he should text you, he takes it as his answer.

Nothing is ever her fault. But now I’m having a midnight snack lol. Are you still awake?

He replies: Yes. Just driving around. Do you want company?

He’s nervous as he waits. But then you send him your address.

Minutes later, you open your door to gentle knocks, heart skipping when you see him. At this point, being apart from Zach is starting to hurt. You lied when you texted him. You know exactly why you’re wired. It’s because he won’t leave your mind.

“Hi,” he says, a pink hue on his cheeks. “Kind of crazy that you’ve been to my house a million times, but I have no idea what your place looks like.”

“Is that why you’re here?” you ask. “You need to see it that bad?”

“I think it’s what’s keeping me awake.”

You laugh, stepping back, inviting him in. Zach’s eyes travel over your apartment, taking in every little piece that you’ve put into it. Being here is more intimate than he expected. And then you shut the door behind him, thickening the tension, both of you now sharing complete privacy in a way you never have before.

“Is that an Ella original?” he says, pointing to a drawing stuck on your fridge.

“Yup. That’s me and her and the castle we live in,” you tell him. You lead him into the kitchen as you gaze at the bright crayon marking the paper. “And that’s her horse. She was very adamant about it being her horse. But I can pet it if I ask nicely.”

He laughs and gazes at the drawing, touched that you’d keep something his daughter made up on display. Even when you’re not at the house, you want to be reminded of her.

“Where am I?” he asks in mock offense.

“I’m sure she meant to include you, but the horse took up too much space,” you explain, looking over your shoulder up at him. He’s inches away from you, towering above you. You’re so close to him that you can see the stubble growing over his jaw.

“The tutus are a nice touch,” he says, pointing to the pink skirts drawn on both of you. You laugh and turn to face him all the way. You clear your throat, smitten that he’s really here.

“She was great tonight, huh?” you ask.

“She was.” Zach’s smile is bright, the same way it always is whenever he talks about her. “And she wanted all the grandparents there.”

“I think that’s progress.”

“Me, too.” He exhales. “It was an almost perfect night.”

“Almost?”

“My hand still hurts,” he mumbles, face pinching as he looks down at his hand.

“Listen…” you say with a bashful smile. “I’m sorry, okay? I was stressed.” Zach laughs and it takes everything in him not to hug you. “Was it really that bad?”

“So bad,” he teases, flexing his hand. “You’re too reckless.”

“Reckless? Is that what you think of me?”

Zach cocks his head, staring down at you with a look that burns through you, and soberly says, “No. It’s not.”

His gaze drifts over your face, taking you in slowly. You think back to the first time you saw those eyes, sad and distant. Comparing the way he looked that morning to how he’s gazing at you right now is like comparing black and white.

The light atmosphere has quickly been replaced by a somberness hanging over both of you. Your heart is thumping against your chest. Hard.

“What, then?” you ask.

How can he even find the words to describe how you make him feel? You fit perfectly in every way. You settled into his life like there was always a place waiting just for you. Even tonight, when you grabbed his hand for only a moment, it felt like he was born to be touched by you.

You’ve brought light to his life. He always looked forward to coming home to his daughter, and now he looks forward to coming home to you, too. And having to continue to live like this, acting like his heart isn’t completely yours, is torture.

“I think you’re…” Zach’s tone is low, lids dropping as he looks at your lips before he speaks again. “Perfect.”

Your breath catches. You’ve been able to keep yourself away from him for what feels like ages. You’re not sure you’ll have the strength for much longer. This is the moment where everything can change. You know you both feel it.

“Should I not be here?” he says quietly.

It’s his way of making sure you’re okay. That you want him to be here as badly as he wants to be here. That even though maybe this shouldn’t be happening, you have faith that it will only bring you both joy, and you don’t need to consider the risks because you’ll never have to face them.

He looks so painfully unsure that you long to comfort him. Your hand finds his and he laces his warm fingers between yours the instant he feels you. He exhales slowly, never having felt so vulnerable before.

Too much is on the line. He’s only thinking of himself right now. He shouldn’t have come here, he shouldn’t have given in, he shouldn’t have–

“Stay,” you whisper. Your simple word untangles the knot in his chest. You step closer to seal the distance that remains between you. His eyes finally drift back up to find yours.

“I can’t help how I feel about you,” Zach murmurs. “I don’t want to mess up how good things are, but I just…”

He trails off into silence, sighing shakily.

“I know,” you say. “Me, too.”

“Tell me to leave,” he says with a note of pity. You breathe a sad chuckle.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you here.”

Zach’s grip on your hand tightens, his heart feeling like it’s just been put together after being fractured for years. His lips part and while he doesn’t know how to say how much your words mean to him, he knows how to show it.

He leans closer, cupping your face, capturing your lips with a soft and impatient kiss. You dissolve into bliss, eyelids fluttering closed as his hot mouth presses against yours, head swimming, body buzzing.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, eyelashes overlapping as you kiss deeply, hungrily tasting each other in adoration. His arms circle around you and surround you in warmth.

He lets out a short, almost silent moan against your lips, relieved and assured and grateful that you want him this badly, too. Everything about this feels right. He’s where he’s supposed to be, standing here, kissing you, baring his soul.

You’re breathless when you eventually pull away, eyes slowly opening as he tilts to plant a lazy kiss on your forehead, thumbs stroking your cheeks.

“I kept telling myself that I can’t like you,” he says against your skin. “Do you have any idea how impossible that is?”

You exhale a contented sigh, afraid that you did actually doze off and that this is all just a dream.

“I think I do,” you reply.

Zach’s laugh is breathy, leaning back just enough to look at you. He’s in awe, his lips tender from pressing against yours, his knees weak as he holds your face in his hands. Now that he doesn’t have to hide it or force himself not to stare, he lets himself drown in your eyes.

He brushes his lips against yours again and you smile under the kiss, placing your palm over his hand.

“Is this the hand I hurt?” you tease, gently squeezing.

“Ow,” he playfully winces, making you laugh. You nuzzle your cheek against his palm and smile up at him.

“You sure you like me?” you say. He’s sure he loves you, but it’s too much, too soon to say at this moment. “You know you can’t afford any injuries right now.”

“Worth it,” Zach plays along.

“I keep wanting to ask you about work,” you say. He hasn’t spoken much about playoffs, but you did a little research on his team’s standings. “How has it been? Are you stressed?”

“Pressure’s on, but I’m fine,” he says simply. Your words won’t find you at first. It’s sort of unbelievable how he doesn’t ever flaunt his success, not even a little bit.

“That’s it?” you laugh.

“What?”

“Your team could go to the finals and you’re just fine?” you say.

“How’d you know that?” he says, his heart warming.

“Had to look it up. Not like you’ll tell me,” you quip, pulling away, his hands falling off of you. Zach chuckles, following you into your living room.

“Are we fighting already?” he asks.

“We won’t be if you tell me why you get all cute and shy whenever you talk about your job,” you say, settling on the couch.

He sits to face you, his knee bumping yours. You love that he’s as close as you want him to be, instead of keeping a distance like before. He finds your hands, holding them in his.

“Just a second,” Zach mumbles. “I need to process that you called me cute.”

You giggle, leaning forward to nuzzle against his chest.

“I’m serious,” you say, your voice muffled by his shirt. “We talk about my job all the time.”

“Oh, come on. Because we have to. That’s the whole deal.”

“Is it?”

Zach sighs, kissing the top of your head, loving the way your body slightly shakes with your laughter. You sit up again, looking down as you interlace your fingers with his, playing with his hands as you wait for him to speak.

“I love soccer,” he says, “but I never expected I’d be good enough to go pro. And somehow, I did and all the attention that comes with it is just… it’s not me. I’ve never been the loudest guy in the room. Never wanted to be.”

You nod. You could tell soon after meeting him that while he’s confident and loves to joke around, he’s not one to demand the spotlight.

“And now the more attention I get,” he continues, “the more people might want to know about me and I’d rather keep Ella safe and give her a normal life.”

He scratches his cheek, uncertainty flashing on his face.

“And… I’m not exactly proud that I’m not working a normal job. I’m always thinking that maybe it’d be better for Ella if I had a nine to five, but the pay is great and I can’t play forever, so I just want to save up as much as I can for her. Then I’ll find something more steady.”

You're sure you’ve never met a person this humble. It’s nice to know what goes on in his head after having wondered for so long.

“Will you still even need a nanny then?” you ask lightheartedly. Zach purses his lips as he nods.

“I will if she’s you.” You smile as he pulls you in, holding you as your cheek rests against his shoulder.

“I don’t think there’s anything that you shouldn’t be proud of,” you tell him. “You’re an amazing father.”

“You don’t know how nice it is to hear you say that,” he admits. The worries that he’s being selfish have been gnawing at him for a long time. He’s always concerned he’s making the wrong choices for his daughter.

“I think it every time I see you with her. I know you said she was a surprise, but you treat her like being her dad is all you’ve ever wanted.”

Zach leans to kiss your forehead over and over again, palm gently pressed on your cheek, like he’s making up for all the times he wanted to kiss you but couldn’t. You start to giggle under all the kisses, hugging him tighter.

“Speaking of,” you say, “I’m sure you’re thinking it, too, but we should keep acting like we’re just friends when we’re around our boss.”

He breathes a chuckle, nodding as he looks down at you lovingly.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “We’ll take it slow. She’ll be so happy when we tell her.”

“You think so?” you say, your heart blooming from the certainty in his words, from the way he unabashedly intends on being with you and telling his daughter.

“She’s always asking me if I like you.” Truthfully, Ella asks if he loves you, but again, he doesn’t want to use that word until he’s sure you’re comfortable with it.

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “She actually asks if I like you yet. It’s like she knows it’s inevitable.”

You realize that the way you’re wrapped up in each other does feel like it was always inevitable. You know that your heart would never have been able to resist him. You’re glad he feels the same way about you.

────୨ৎ────

A week after the night in your apartment is the semi-final. You’re sitting in the living room playing with Ella with the game on in the background. She’s partly interested, whereas you can’t ignore the ball of nerves sitting deep in your stomach.

Zach’s been opening up more about his job when you get time alone, admitting that the pressure can give him tunnel-vision sometimes. You’ve taken on the workload as much as you can so that he’s not too stressed.

You’ve kept things the same when you’re around Ella and you’ve already determined that if she asks why you’re so invested in what’s on tv, you’ll simply say you grew an interest in soccer after the home game you both attended. But she’s too busy playing with clay to care.

The first half ends with no goals scored. You set up an afternoon snack for Ella, letting her help, your mind elsewhere as you imagine Zach in the locker room, wondering what his coach is telling him and what he’s thinking about at this moment.

Five minutes after half-time, the opponents score. Your heart sinks. Twenty minutes later, Zach scores. You have to stifle how loudly you want to cheer.

Then, the game goes to penalty shoot-outs. Zach had told you how much he hates when a game comes down to that. It’s a nail-biting few minutes, but Zach’s team wins, securing their spot in the finals. In his next game, his team could take the cup.

Right before dinner, you and Ella change into the jerseys you’d secretly bought a few days ago. Zach already told you that even if his team wants to celebrate a win together, he’d prefer to see you two, so you know he’s coming straight home.

He steps through the front door to see you in his team’s jerseys, rushing to give him a hug. Your arms are around his shoulders while Ella’s are around his hips, both of you excitedly cheering. Zach’s heart has never felt so full.

“So, I take it you watched it?” he mumbles into your hair, reveling in the familiar aroma of your shampoo. It takes everything in you not to kiss him when you pull back.

“You did amazing,” you tell him.

“Daddy, do cats ever come to your games?” Ella asks.

Zach looks at you, puzzled.

“There was a commercial with clips of animals crashing soccer games,” you explain, laughing. “It’s a valid question.”

“I haven’t seen any,” he tells her, kneeling to meet her eyeline. “But I hope we get one so I can tell you all about it.”

“Could we keep it?” she asks.

“If a cat comes onto our field and it doesn’t have an owner, sure, we can keep it,” he says. She jumps excitedly, then runs off to play. Zach stands up again, grinning at you.

“Don’t let her watch any more matches,” he says. “If a cat shows up, I’m done for.” You laugh, crossing your arms simply to keep yourself from touching him.

“Congratulations,” you say. “I know you don’t like the attention, but you deserve it.”

“Thanks.” He looks down at your jersey. “It looks great on you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, turning to show him the back. It’s his last name and number. He almost can’t believe this is really happening, that he met someone like you who cares about him this much.

“Better on you, I think,” you say.

“Impossible.”

You face him and he gazes at your lips in the way you know means he wants to kiss you. In the few private moments you’ve had since you confessed your feelings for each other, you’ve shared warm hugs and sweet kisses. You can’t wait until you don’t have to hide your love for him anymore.

“Dinner in twenty,” you tell him. “I bet you worked up an appetite.”

Zach’s legs are heavy as he trudges up the stairs, partly from fatigue, but mostly because the last thing his body wants to do is be away from you.

────୨ৎ────

Zach’s family drives in to watch the championship game at the house. You weren’t all that nervous around them before, but now that you and Zach are privately dating, you’re eager to impress them.

He had mentioned to you that he hadn’t told them about you yet, but he’s hoping to the next time he sees them. He also told you how his mom had a suspicion about you two, which makes you hope you’re not too obvious.

It’s only been a couple of weeks since you decided to date, but every moment you get alone with Zach isn’t long enough. You knew he was kind-hearted, but now that he’s not holding back, he showers you with affection and compliments, reminding you of how much he appreciates you every day.

Just like it is with Zach, it’s easy with his family. You talk and snack and take turns playing with Ella while you watch the game. The game starts off as promising, but unfortunately, the final ends with a loss for his team.

“He did tell me they were kind of the underdogs,” you say to his family sadly, watching the screen. “I still think it’s great that he got this far.”

The stadium he’s playing in is hours away and he won’t be getting home until after midnight. You spend the rest of the evening with Zach’s family, wishing you could see him and give him a comforting hug.

When Zach gets to the locker room, dejected and disappointed, he checks his phone to see a text from you. I know it’s not how you wanted the season to end, but you played an amazing game. We’re all so proud of you, no matter what.

It’s ten minutes past midnight when you hear the front door open. You’ve been sitting in the kitchen, staying awake on your phone after everyone turned in for the night. You turn on the kettle you already filled with water and find Zach in the dim hallway, meeting his eyes with sympathy.

“You’re here,” he mumbles in surprise. You only close the distance, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tightly.

“Wanted to see you,” you whisper. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve had better days,” he admits, kissing your neck. “This feels good, though.”

“I’m making you some tea if you want it,” you tell him, “but if you’d rather go to bed, I get it.”

“Tea sounds good.” He pulls back, stroking your cheek. “You’re really proud of me? Even though I’m a total loser?”

You half-chuckle, nudging him.

“Never call yourself that again,” you say.

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll stop ‘accidentally’ making too much food,” you joke, earning a chuckle from him.

You settle in the kitchen, reminded of the first time you sat together like this all those months ago to plan Ella’s birthday party. Now she’s halfway to six years old, growing faster than you could have ever anticipated.

After you put the steaming mug of tea in front of him, Zach puts his hand over yours, squeezing.

“I tried to be positive but I saw it coming,” he admits to you. “They were the stronger team. We’ll just train harder and hopefully get them next year.”

“And I’ll be with you every step of the way,” you say. “Just don’t beat yourself up over this, okay? You’re not a loser.”

“Baby…” Zach breathes a chuckle. “Being with you makes me feel like I’m always winning. It sucks to get this far and to put so much work in just to lose, but knowing you and Ella are waiting for me at home… That's what my life is really about.”

You stare at him, awestruck, heart beating so hard that you can hear it in your ears.

“I love you,” he says. “I’m sorry if it’s too soon to say, but I’ve loved you for a long time.”

You bite your lip, giving into the urge to lean closer and kiss him. When you pull back, palm resting on his cheek, you smile.

“I love you, too,” you say. “It’s not too soon.”

“Phew. I was more nervous about telling you than I was about the game,” he says. You laugh, pinching his cheek.

“Stop being so cute,” you whisper.

“I can’t help it,” he quips. “I didn’t forget how you said you haven’t been on a date in forever. What do you think about tomorrow night? Ella will stay with my family and you and I can go out for dinner.”

“That sounds perfect,” you tell him. You chat a little longer before you head home.

When Zach tells his mother he’s taking you out for dinner the next morning, she’s overjoyed to hear that you’re an item now and throws in a few ‘I told you so’s. When the evening rolls around, he tells Ella he’s running some errands and instead drives to pick you up from your place.

Sitting across from you at a restaurant on a real date feels like a dream. He holds your hand on the table and nudges your knee with his every so often, unable to keep his hands off of you like usual. It’s like talking with a best friend, the conversation flowing so naturally that he refuses to believe he’s only known you for just shy of a year.

When he drives you home after dinner, you lose track of time kissing him goodnight.

────୨ৎ────

You and Zach had discussed that today would be the day. Now that you’ve been together for over eight months, he’s ready to tell Ella.

It’s a Saturday and Zach’s making lunch while you and Ella set the table. Long gone are the days of spending just a few minutes together, one of you arriving at the house while the other one gets ready to leave. The three of you are almost always a unit now, settled into a routine.

After lunch, you leave as planned so he can talk to her one-on-one. Zach finds Ella drawing on her bedroom floor after he says his goodbyes to you and knocks on her door.

“What are you drawing?” he asks.

She holds up the paper, three figures under the shining sun. When he asks if that’s you, him, and her, she happily nods.

Zach settles on the floor, watching the way she colors in the yellow sun, her legs kicking in the air. He’s seen a change in his child. There’s no doubt about it.

While she was always a happy kid, she’s grown to be much more expressive and affectionate since you stepped into their lives. You bring out the best in her. The best in him, too.

He tries to force down the tears that come up every time he looks at his daughter and thinks about what happened a year ago. She’s too small to have to know the pain of abandonment and betrayal. He pushes away the thought.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Zach says, clearing his throat.

“Do you want another bracelet?” she says.

Zach smirks, looking down at the beaded bracelet on his wrist that she made for him a few days ago. She made you a matching one that you always wear, too.

“Yeah, if you’re not too busy,” he says. “But that’s not it.”

He says it exactly as he rehearsed, telling her how happy you make him and asking if she’s okay with you being his girlfriend. When she grins up at him and asks if that means that you can move in with them, he chuckles, tears pricking his eyes.

Zach always felt like he needed to make up for the love Ella’s mother wasn’t giving her. Now, there’s nothing to make up for, nothing missing. He wishes the circumstances had been different, but he knows he’s lucky that he met you.

He was sure soon after he got to know you that his daughter would grow to love you. Deep down, he was sure that he would grow to love you, too.

────୨ৎ────

It’s past nine p.m. when Zach gets home from training. Now that he’s in the midst of playoffs again, he doesn’t get as much time at home anymore, but he takes it in stride.

When he can’t find you on the main floor, he tiptoes upstairs in case you’ve fallen asleep putting Ella to bed. Sure enough, she’s snuggled up next to you, both of you snoozing.

It’s been a month since he told her about your relationship and somehow, she’s grown to love you even more now that she knows you love her dad. Zach wonders if Ella can see how much happier he is these days. He tried to hide how empty he felt before, but maybe she caught on.

He’d rather not know. He’s rather not think about the past at all, really. Because right now, as he gazes into his daughter’s bedroom to see you hugging each other in your sleep, he knows he’s looking at his future.

(the end)

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#zach maclaren and you #zach maclaren and y/n #zach maclaren and reader #zach maclaren x y/n #zach maclaren x you #zach maclaren x reader

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boundbyeclipse · 2 days ago

Note

hiii can you write smut number 5 with current James????

black velvet

genre : smut

word count : 1227

tags : current!james, female!reader, age difference (not specified how much), reader is a tattoo artist, a little rough james, semi-public sex (i think?), that’s about it

from the prompt list : 5. “don’t cover your mouth. i wanna hear you”

a/n : sooo i saw a photo of James getting a tattoo done and i thought hey, that’s a perfect idea for one of my requests! it really stuck to me and i had to write it. i really hope you enjoy this one x

‘Poison’ by Alice Cooper played in the background after you returned from your dinner break at work. You hummed along to the lyrics while lightly bopping your head to the beat. You absolutely loved rock and metal, so the playlist used at work always consisted of bands who did exactly those genres. It always gave you motivation and boosts for some energy, no matter if you were sad, angry or irritated.

While preparing for your next client, the sound of the entrance door opening and closing reached your ears. Technically, it was just a bit too early to show up, but hey, this one’s a regular and you didn’t mind at all.

“Hey there” you greeted him while putting some black gloves on your hands.

“Hey. Mind me showing up before I should?”

You gave him a warm smile, shaking your head left to right.

“Nope. You can come take a seat actually, I’ll go print out the tattoo and get more ink”

“Alright” James smiled back, hanging his jacket on the rack and making his way to the big, comfortable leather chair. He watched you walking around and you didn’t quite pay any attention to him, at least at first. Or, you just didn’t want to.

No matter how many times you’ve done tattoos on this man in the past few years, there has always been some sort of a tension between you both. It wasn’t anything like what you’ve had before with other men. They might have complimented you, made you smile, even blush, but none of them put you in such a vulnerable position with their presence alone. And there have been many times where his eyes would pierce right through you in the middle of getting his skin drawn on, creating the impression of him wanting to do some things to you. The lust was purely emitting from him the whole time. And you cannot forget about those moments when his fingertips would brush against your skin, making you shiver and think of scenarios in your head that were not so innocent. Sure, he was much older than you, but that didn’t stop either of you from craving each other every time.

Not too long after, you were already seated next to James, with his hand extended out as you were drawing lines on his skin.

My, oh my, did those large hands of his drove you insane.

“You got any more people coming after me?” he suddenly asked, his blue eyes hinting at something.

“Nope, you are the last one today. Puts my mind at ease knowing my last client is a regular. No need to overthink”

One side of his mouth curved up into a small smirk.

“Are you sure your mind is at ease? Because I can feel you’re all tensed up”

You swallowed and bit your lower lip hard after he said that. Trying to hide your growing frustration, you giggled.

“Maybe I am, I’ve been here since seven in the morning, you know”

He cocked an eyebrow up, not quite believing what you were saying. James could clearly see how you bit your lip, adjusted in your seat and giggled due to getting thrown back by his comment.

“It’s kind of easy to tell that it’s not because of the work. You don’t need to hide it”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and your body froze for a moment before you looked up at him and asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you secretly think about all the possible ways I could use my hands on you,” you could not believe what he just said, but it was totally true, “it’s written all over your face. Even your body language gives it away with how you shake, squirm in your seat, how you breathe heavier when I’m around. I know you think of me”

“James, don’t-“

“Just finish the tattoo first, then you can explain yourself”

Not even ten minutes later, you had your body pinned against the door of your break room, with no way to escape the tall man who hovered over you. His hands roamed your body while he kissed your neck, sucking on the sensitive spots to make you even weaker. The way he held you by your hip against the door made you so vulnerable and so turned on, that you could not help but moan into the heated kiss.

With one swift move, James opened the door behind you and the both of you walked backwards, still all over each other until the back of your calves hit the lounge couch that was in the room. James helped you with taking your shirt off, leaving you in a black lace bra. You sat down and watched James from below, eyes full of desperation and need, looking right into his own. He removed his shirt and tossed it away, unbuckling his jeans and unzipping them, then hovering above you as he laid you down slowly, but with rough kisses and a tight grip on your waist.

Your hand reached into his jeans and you cupped him through the fabric of his underwear, giving it a couple squeezes as James groaned in response. He was big, thick and hard, and you could feel yourself getting so wet that it started to hurt. You really needed him.

With no clothes left on your bodies, he was now inside you, moving his hips as he watched your face, loving the way your eyes rolled back with each thrust. The way your back arched, your naked bodies touching against each other, it put you in such a trance. Every second of it - you just loved.

With your moans becoming louder, you felt a little embarrassed, and your hand found its way to your mouth to silence yourself. But James wasn’t going to let you hide.

“Don’t cover your mouth. I wanna hear you”

Carefully, he took your hand and now had both of your hands pinned above your head. Your moans filled the room as you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to feel every single inch of his length in you. Almost to the point where you could barely take it.

“I can’t- I can’t take it”

“Yes, you can. Just hang on for a little bit more for me, okay?”

You gave him a nod in response, eyes watery and lips parted as you breathed heavily, your high hitting you right then and there. It happened so quickly, that you could not even tell James that you were close.

Another moan slipped out of his mouth as you coated him in your juices, your walls pulsing whilst he was still inside you, able to feel everything.

“Almost there” he told you as he gave you his final thrusts before pulling out and cumming on your stomach. Both of you were panting, with small beads of sweat on your foreheads and hair all messed up. But as soon as you got your breathing back to normal, it was time to clean up and go home. Though, James just wasn’t quite keen on leaving you so soon.

“I’ll give you a ride back home, so don’t worry about taking a bus in this weather” he gave you a warm smile as he put his jacket on and waited for you at the entrance door.

#metallica smut #metallica fic #metallica fics #james hetfield smut #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield fic #james hetfield fics

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bookwormjust · 1 day ago

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Burning the Midnight Sun (established relationship with Helion)

The library is quiet, save for the occasional sound of pages turning and your quill scratching furiously across parchment. It’s early morning, and the golden light filtering through the tall windows does little to ease your exhaustion. You’ve been working since dawn, your mind focused on one thing: finding a solution. The epidemic spreading through one of the other courts demands an urgent response, and the healers are relying on your research to develop a medication. You can’t afford to stop, even though your body protests with every passing minute.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you write, the combination of fatigue and hunger gnawing at the edges of your focus. You haven’t eaten today—again. The thought of food barely crosses your mind when there’s so much at stake, and the weight of responsibility presses down on you like an anvil. Your hair, a cascade of rich brown, falls in loose strands around your face, but you don’t bother to push it back. Your eyes, dark and intense, flicker over the ancient texts piled around you, searching for something—anything—that might offer a breakthrough.

You can feel the energy of the sun outside, the source of your mate’s power, warming the world beyond the library, but here, in the cool, quiet space of the archives, you’re locked in your own world of words and alchemical symbols.

Helion’s presence comes to you long before you hear him. His power is like the sun itself, radiant and golden, and you’ve always felt it before he arrives—like a soft warmth that spreads over your skin. But today, you’re too deep in your work to notice, too lost in the formulas and calculations scattered before you.

A soft knock sounds at the door, followed by the unmistakable sound of it opening. You don’t look up, even as you hear Helion’s familiar footsteps approach. He knows better than to interrupt you when you’re this focused, but that doesn’t stop him from checking on you. He always does.

"Sunshine," his voice is smooth, rich like melted gold, but laced with concern. You hear the amusement in his tone, but also the underlying worry. "Still at it, I see."

You glance up briefly, offering him a tired smile. "There’s still so much to do. The healers need this information *yesterday*, Helion. I’m close—I just need a little more time."

He steps closer, his golden robes rustling softly as he moves. His eyes, bright and warm as the sun at noon, study you with a mixture of affection and concern. You feel his gaze sweep over you, taking in the dark circles under your eyes, the slump of your shoulders, the way your hands tremble slightly from exhaustion.

"You haven’t eaten today, have you?" he asks, his voice softer now, more serious. He reaches out and gently brushes a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your skin. "You’re running yourself ragged, sunshine."

You open your mouth to protest, but the growl of your stomach betrays you. You haven’t eaten since yesterday, and the thought of stopping now feels like surrender. There’s too much at stake, too many people depending on you.

"I’m fine," you murmur, turning back to the parchment in front of you. "I just need a little more time."

But Helion is not so easily dismissed. He moves to your side, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. The warmth of his touch is grounding, a stark contrast to the cold logic and clinical focus that’s been consuming you for hours.

"You know I love how dedicated you are," he says, his tone teasing but still filled with that same worry. "But even the sun needs to rest."

You lean into his touch, letting out a small sigh. You’re too tired to argue, too worn down by the relentless hours of research. "I just… I need to finish this. People are dying, Helion. I can’t stop."

He kneels down beside your chair, his face level with yours now, his golden eyes softening as he gazes up at you. "And you’ll save them," he says, his voice low and soothing. "But you won’t save anyone if you collapse from exhaustion."

His words cut through the fog of your focus, and you feel the weight of your own fatigue settling into your bones. He’s right, of course. He usually is, when it comes to taking care of yourself.

"Just take a break," Helion insists, his thumb gently rubbing circles into your shoulder. "Let me take care of you, just for a little while. You’ve done more than enough today."

You hesitate, your eyes flickering back to the notes scattered across the table, but the warmth of his hand, the gentle hum of his power soothing your frayed nerves, makes it hard to resist. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, and you know it.

Finally, you nod, the tension in your body easing slightly. Helion’s smile is soft, filled with that familiar warmth you’ve come to rely on. He rises to his feet and gently pulls you up with him. You’re unsteady at first, your legs weak from sitting for so long, but Helion’s hands are there, steady and reassuring.

"Come on, sunshine," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Let’s get you some food. Then you can get back to saving the world."

You let him lead you away from the desk, your body leaning into his warmth, grateful for his presence. Helion always knows when to step in, when to remind you that even the brightest lights need rest. And as tired as you are, you know that with him by your side, you’ll find the strength to finish what you started.

#acotar reader imagine #acotar x reader #acotar #helion acotar #helion x you #helion x reader #helion

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kagecreep · 2 days ago

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Midnight Burns (VxMC)

(KillerChat)

Description: You have trouble sleeping. V calls you at midnight, and a few little secrets slip out from both your lips.

Two requests mixed together: V who's weak for compliments & a MC who loves V's voice.

Notes: this takes place b4 you meet irl (: i gave you a lil username just for funsies and to make it a little easier to read WC: 3.2k

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Despite all your best efforts, the dawn had forgotten your name. Your sleep began early in the morning, before sunrise, and slept a scant 4 hours. Fortunately, being in an online server with people around the world, there was always someone to keep you company. Unfortunately that server happened to be filled with murderers; for better or worse, they were more welcoming than anyone else you knew, and you were assured that turning to them would bring nothing but comfort.

Tonight, however, no one was online. You scrolled up and down the different chats mindlessly, your head leaning heavily into your palm. You could write, but opening the blank page was more of a taunt than a call to productivity. Nothing was on your mind. You needed more inspiration from your latest muse before continuing with your next part of the story. To your disappointment, V was not online.

With a sigh, you left your computer on your desk, and left downstairs to fetch something to eat. You returned to your room quickly with an old bowl of pasta in hand, crawling back into your chair.

You squinted at the bright screen, scrolling through the server channels and members one last time before vowing to work on your book. Upon seeing a notification, however, your vow was promptly tossed out the window, and you clicked into your chat with K9.

<K9> [23:00] Good evening. I know it is late, however I was hoping you could spare some time to answer a few of my questions.

You blinked several times, fingers hovering over the keyboard before you typed in your response.

<scaredevil> [23:12] yeah, i'm not doing anything. whats up? you want to call? <K9> [23:12] That would be preferrable. Thank you for indulging me.

Not a second later and he was calling you. You quickly brushed your hair with your fingers and accepted, sitting up a little straighter in your chair.

"Midnight calls, hm?" You said before he could speak. "Some of the other server members might think we're up to something."

"None of the other server members are able to see our private calls," he said flatly.

"Goreboy is," you said.

He grunted––obviously dissatisfied with that truth.

"You raise a good point. Perhaps I shall set up our own private server––remove goreboy from the equation altogether," he said, knitting his fingers together beneath his chin.

"A server just for us? Sounds intimate," you said, grinning as you leaned in.

A soft, dark blush crept onto his face.

"Nonsense. It's simply a matter of privacy. Do you not resent the idea of being monitored, as I do?"

"I do... but not really enough to do anything about it. I don't know much about coding, anyway," you said, leaning on your palm. "Besides, we live in a surveillance state."

"All the more reason to protect yourself," he said, his eyes narrowing. "You must be skilled at disposing of bodies to be so careless in hiding your identity."

You shrugged. You had tried many times to tell him, both in humorous and serious tones, that you were not a serial killer. He never listened, insistent that his gut instinct was never wrong. Some part of you found it amusing, but at least his vehement search for you allowed you to spend some time with him, even if it was filled with both vague and direct threats on your life.

"Before we start with questions... how are you feeling tonight?" He asked.

"Tired," you said, tapping your fingers against your cheek.

"Have you not been sleeping well?"

"Not really."

He nodded softly.

"I understand. I, too, have many a night where sleep evades my grasp. Can you do anything about it? Do you have medicines?" He asked in a softer tone, leaning in.

"Yeah, but they don't tend to work." You glanced up at him. "Why do you care?"

He stuttered for a moment, hands falling out of sight of the camera.

"It is... important to lead a balanced life. That way I will be the one to take you down––not some useless meandering cop or your own poorly-managed lifestyle," he said.

"Sounds... intimate," you said with a lazy smile.

He hesitated, lips parted and eyes darting to the side and back to you as he contemplated your words and his own response.

"I... hesitate to admit this, but my vendetta is... personal, when it comes to you. I cannot figure you out. I suppose nothing is more alluring than a mystery," he said, once more folding his fingers together beneath his chin and leaning in.

"I've told you before," you chuckled, "I'm no mystery. I'm a writer."

"Yes, so you've said, and with all due respect, I do not believe it. Now if you don't mind, I would like you to answer my questions," he said.

"Of course. What's on your mind?"

"My first question. What is your favourite time of day?"

A grip creeped across your lips, devolving into giggles.

"Your questions have such a sweet facade," you said, shaking your head. "How is knowing my favourite time of day going to help you catch me?"

"Answer the question, please," he said, sighing roughly.

"Fine." You paused, biting back your smile. "I love the dawn."

"The dawn?" He repeated, eyes widening. "Interesting. You are not often online during those hours."

"I'm usually asleep then."

"Then... how is it your favourite time of day?"

"Oh, you know," you said, grunting as you stretched back in your chair, "it's a beautiful time. Renewal, quiet, and peace. My body just... doesn't... well, to be honest, I usually end up falling asleep just before dawn. Dawn hath abandoned me, and visits me no longer."

"I see."

You weren't sure if he believed you or not. You supposed it didn't matter. Before he could ask his next question, you spoke first.

"What's your favourite time of day?" You asked.

Again his eyes widened imperceptibly, taken aback by the reciprocation.

"I do not see how that is important," he said.

"You know my favourite, why can't I know yours? I already told you I'm no good at hacking, or finding people. I'm just curious," you said, shrugging.

"For all I know, that could have been a lie. But... I suppose it is only fair. I prefer the night. The vermin come out of the filth and reveal their nature, and I await them in the dark," he said, his eyes narrowing.

He glanced up from the intensity of his thoughts and found you beaming across the screen. He raised a single brow.

"What are you smiling about?" He asked roughly.

"Nothing, I just..."

What were you smiling about? You thought for a moment. It could be any number of things, really––his voice, his manner of speaking, the intensity of his conviction. Each of these things melted you a little bit, and the fluffy covers of your bed suddenly didn't seem so unfriendly.

"... I like the way you talk. Your words. Your voice. It's very... pretty," you murmured.

He froze, his face quickly turning a deep shade of red.

"Y -" he choked on his own breath. "R... really?"

"Yeah," you sighed. "It's a shame you use it to threaten me."

He blinked several times, glancing to the side.

"W - well... I suppose... I could hold off on my search, for tonight," he said, his eyes returning to you. "If that would please you."

You smiled. The juxtaposition of him attempting to please you and promising to kill you at the same time––it tingled inside you. A wonderfully chaotic rush.

"I don't think you'd lose much by taking a break for now," you chuckled softly.

He wouldn't lose anything because he had nothing to gain. You hid nothing. Except your name, of course.

"Then... what would you like to talk about?" He asked hesitantly.

"Mmm... I don't know," you hummed, staring in a somewhat dreamy trance at your screen. "I just like spending time with you."

You weren't sure how much more of this V could take. You could practically feel the heat of his blush through the computer, and you drank in each micro-expression––the widening eyes, twitching lips, fidgeting fingers––with absurd delight.

"You... are incredibly odd," he finally stuttered out, unable to meet your eye, even through the camera.

"Is it odd to find you endearing and beautiful?"

Now you had gone too far. He hadn't even replied and you were melting with embarrassment just watching him react to your words, as though it flowed off him in such excess that it somehow reached you.

"I - it is, um, quite odd," he eventually said, staring at his keyboard.

Despite going too far, you couldn't help yourself, and dug your trench even deeper.

"Sorry," you said. "I can't help it. Even if you are planning to kill me, I can't deny... nor should I, really, that you're very handsome. And I enjoy your company. I might even tell you my address so you can be the last thing I see before I die."

He slammed his fingers against the keyboard, and with a panicked expression, hung up.

You stared at your chat for a whole minute, eyes wide from his sudden reaction. Slowly you leaned forward and began to type.

<scaredevil> [23:21] did i do something wrong?

It took him several more minutes to reply, and he took a long while to type out his message.

<K9> [23:27] No. I apologize for ending our call so abruptly. I was... suddenly busy. <scaredevil> [23:27] you're not a very good liar, you know <K9> [23:27] ... I suppose there's no avoiding it then. As much as I am disinclined to admit it, I was very flattered by your comments. A little too flattered.

You stared at the screen. What did he mean?

<scaredevil> [23:28] were you like..... taking a cold shower....? <K9> [23:29] I was not. I spent my time away tending to one of my rabbits. As a bonus, the activity aided in calming me. I have no affinity for cold showers anyway.

You debated your next message for a moment, heart racing as you sent it.

<scaredevil> [23:29] can we call again? <K9> [23:29] I do not believe that is a good idea.

Your heart deflated in your chest.

<scaredevil> [23:30] why not? :( <K9> [23:30] I am worried you will return to your previous barrage of compliments. ... It is not a good idea. <scaredevil> [23:30] please v? i love hearing your voice

Nothing. The marker to show his typing didn't even appear.

<scaredevil> [23:31] im sorry for pushing you i really am i didn't mean to offend you i just wanted to express a little how i felt fuck i'll stop

You curled up in your desk chair, legs to your chest, and hid your face in your knees. How embarrassing. A deep, cold, and breaking sensation crackled through your ribs.

The computer dinged, and your head shot up.

<K9> [23:38] You did not offend me. I am simply... unaccustomed to people thinking of me in such a way. It has not ever occurred before.

You quickly began to type a response.

<scaredevil> [23:38] never? thats hard to believe <K9> [23:38] Is it? I am not the most sociable of creatures. Nor am I approachable. Most would consider me imposing, or even menacing. I am not sure I have ever been called handsome, much less... beautiful. <scaredevil> [23:38] is it weird that i feel kinda accomplished to be your first? i have a little award no one else will ever have <K9> [23:38] Not the most fantastic of accomplishments, but I will not deny you your feelings on the matter. <scaredevil> [23:38] thanks :) not to freak you out again but you're sweet <K9> [23:39] Another compliment. ... Thank you.

You drummed the edge of your keyboard with your fingertips, biting at your lip. Exhaustion freely visited you but rarely came with the comfort of sleep; V's voice, the deep, dulcet tones, was a ready substitute. When he kept his words soft and yielding, you could even hear sleep knocking at your distant door. It was a lot to ask, especially after freaking him out so much, but the desperation within you was clawing. Regret would make you bleed if you didn't at least ask.

<scaredevil> [23:41] i know this is a little odd you don't have to say yes, but well to be honest, your voice has a calming effect on me. i was hoping maybe you could help me fall asleep... please. <K9> [23:42] ... Your request is strange, but... acceptable. I will aid you. <scaredevil> [23:42] that's very kind of you <K9> [23:42] Kindness is a trait I strive to exemplify in my life. But thank you. You are the first person in the server to take note of it.

A moment later and he was requesting to call you. You hurried over to bed, carrying your laptop over, and jumped beneath the covers before answering. There was barely enough time to settle your head into your pillow before the call loaded.

He let out some quiet grunting noise upon seeing you, raising his brow.

"You are... already in bed," he said slowly.

Oh, that deep, amber voice, you thought to yourself dreamily. You decided not to inform him of your delight in hearing him.

"Of course I am," you said, hiding half your face behind your blankets. "I'm not going to sleep at my desk.

"I would think not. I was... just not expecting you to already be... in bed."

You giggled, shying further into your covers.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked softly.

You nodded.

"Good," he said in a somewhat stiff tone, giving a curt nod. "If it's... not too much to ask, I would like to see your face. Consider it a favour in return for helping you to fall asleep."

It was a fair request, though you felt some embarrassment at the idea of him being able to fully see you as you drifted off to sleep. Still, with a creeping blush you lowered your blanket, revealing your face squished into your pillow. A subtle but surely there smile warmed V's expression.

"Ah, there you are," he said, leaning in, his hands lax beneath his chin. "If we are being honest tonight, I will admit you are quite beautiful, as well. A light in the dim wake of reality."

You chuckled, attempting poorly to hide your blushing face in your pillow. But your eyes remained on your screen, entranced with him.

"Charming words," you said.

"And yet speaking nothing but the truth. Now please, tell me––how can I be of service to you?"

It was your turn now to flush, to be filled with a warmth that urged you to run far away just to compose yourself. A hundred different things whirled through your head; would he really do anything for you if you simply asked with a sweet 'please' at the end? Surely not. Logically there was some limit. But your imagination knew no such word.

"You can talk about anything," you said, wishing you could hide your face again. "You can even read me a story if you fancy it."

"Anything?" He asked, raising his brow. "Are you sure?"

"Of course."

He thought for a moment, then suddenly stood, disappearing out of the camera's sight for a couple minutes. You thought to call out but decided against it, and patiently waited for him to return.

He reappeared with a book in hand, opening it on the desk in front of him. It was a small book––barely the size of his hand––and coloured in pale earthy tones, though the title remained obscured from your vision.

"This is a collection of Persian poetry," he said, smoothing out the pages. "I... sometimes read it when I am in need of relaxation. Though at times the prose can be... quite stimulating to the intellect. I hope that, as I do, you will find it calming."

Poetry at midnight. Poetry with V, at midnight, in your bed, as he would slowly watch you sleep.

There were worse ways to die.

With your heart pounding as intensely as it was, sleep was the furthest thing from your mind and desires––but you had asked for his help, and he had so kindly acquiesced, so you did your best to settle into the covers and slow your racing heart.

He turned a few pages, and you watched with fluttering eyes.

"Ah. Here is a poet I much admire. A mystic Sufi from the 8th century... a woman. Rabia al Basri. Let us begin."

He spoke slowly, with emphasis, with quiet adoration for the artwork of words––the intertwining taste of writer and experience, combined into a painting of poetry.

I have loved Thee with two loves - a selfish love and a love that is worthy of Thee. As for the love which is selfish, Therein I occupy myself with Thee, to the exclusion of all others. But in the love which is worthy of Thee, Thou dost raise the veil that I may see Thee. Yet is the praise not mine in this or that, But the praise is to Thee in both that and this.

"Here is another one, by Rumi. Another mystic from the 13th century," he said.

The Friend comes into my body looking for the center, unable to find it, draws a blade, strikes anywhere.

There is a light seed grain inside. You fill it with yourself, or it dies.

I am caught in this curling energy, your hair! Whoever is calm and sensible is insane.

Do you think I know what I am doing? That for one breath or half-breath I belong to myself? As much as a pen knows what it is writing, or the ball can guess where it is going next.

We have a huge barrel of wine, but no cups. That is fine with us. Every morning, we glow and in the evening we glow again.

They say there is no future for us. They are right. Which is fine with us.

Slowly you drifted away, eyes drifting shut, mind drifting off, as sleep melted into your skin like a warm rose oil. The depth of his voice, the luxuriant taste, imbued itself into your dreams. He spoke only a few more poems before you were gone, your eyes firmly closed and lips softly parted.

He closed the book quietly and set it aside. For a few minutes unbeknownst to your consciousness he watched you, eyes darting across your features as sparks of his own wandering mind came about. He wondered, though he didn't mean to, what your skin would feel like beneath his fingers. How warm your body would be beneath a shared blanket. The thought was inappropriate, and he quickly dismissed it.

He did, however, allow himself one last indulgence.

You were not his love. You had done nothing of the sort to indicate comfort in being referred to as such. But given your kindness––your gentle amiability––he was assured you were much beloved of someone.

"Good night, beloved," he murmured, lingering for a moment more, before ending the call.

Your computer quietly turned itself off.

#killer chat v #killer chat #valentin viljoen

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quibbs126 · 3 days ago

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So I have some more vague ideas of the stupid Transformers AU thing from last night

I think originally it was going to just fade away, but last night I decided I might as well rewatch the original FNAF timeline videos since Part 3 made me realize I didn’t entirely remember what was going on, and so the mentality came back to my brain at 3 or 4 in the morning because I accidentally woke up too early

Anyways, on to random stupid ideas

So Orion is some strange entity, and quite honestly even Primus doesn’t really know what he is, even though he’s pretty sure he created it. Fortunately Orion’s full cosmic horror seems to be locked away due to currently having a mortal shell. Orion just sort of popped out of the ground in the middle of nowhere

Also for some reason my brain gave me this idea that Orion has this ability to basically become a corpse for a few hours while he just chills out in some weird spirit form. I think my brain borrowed it from a concept I had seen around for Aligned continuity’s Thirteen

Also Orion is under the impression that he has amnesia, and is unaware of his weird cosmic status. He wants to know who he is but there’s problems in finding that information, as will be detailed later

After popping out from the ground, he sort of wandered until finding himself at the mines D-16 worked in, and stumbling in there unaware of anything really happening around him

D-16 heard weird noises in his sector and went to check it out, only to find Orion in some equipment and they both sort of freaked out at the sight of each other, D might have punched him out of reflex and shock, and Orion accidentally went corpse mode

D-16 now thinks he just accidentally killed this bot, which is made worse when he gets a good look at him and is 99% sure he is a higher class bot, on account of him being much smaller than the miners and having bright colors (which here would be like a symbol of class, duller/monochrome colors means you’re likely on the bottom rungs), and then later when he hears he has an actual name instead of a number. And if someone discovers he killed a higher class bot, he is at the very least getting fired and sent to prison, which he doesn’t want, so he hides the body so no one finds it and plans to dump it after his shift is over where he won’t be traced back to him

But later when he’s doing so, Orion reactivates and gives D-16 another huge scare, but this time he doesn’t attack because he realizes he probably shouldn’t try to repeat history, thinking maybe he was just mistaken the first time (despite him definitely looking dead)

He tries to figure out who Orion is so he can try and get him sent home (while apologizing for the whole situation), but Orion doesn’t know since he doesn’t really have any memories. D thinks he must have amnesia so he tries to smuggle him back somewhere until they can figure out what to do

Meanwhile Orion thinks he’s just made a friend

D first just tries sending him on a train to Iacon, but Orion refuses to leave without D, not understanding that he’s not really allowed to leave, and sneaks off the train to stay with him. He then tries to get information on Orion since he knows his name, though getting access to a database as a lowly miner is incredibly difficult, but he has no luck there since apparently Orion Pax doesn’t exist. Though he figures it may just be an issue of them having a limited database. And by this point going up to the guards isn’t gonna work because now he’ll be arrested for “kidnapping” a higher class bot

Basically the setup here is Orion hanging out with D-16 in the mines, with Orion trying to make his new friend happy, as he seems constantly stressed and generally miserable with his lot in life, while D-16 is trying to figure out who Orion is and how to get him back home without getting arrested

D admittedly grows to like the company of Orion, as he seems unaware of any sort of class difference between them and just genuinely wants to be his friend and be nice, but he also can’t deny that Orion’s unawareness makes his life a living nightmare now and things would probably be easier for the both of them if he just got back home

Orion also has this instinctual hatred for the government that he doesn’t quite understand (still a very corrupt Cybertron here), but will act upon. D-16 agrees that the government sucks, but hopes Orion doesn’t get into too much trouble defying it. Because he’ll be the one suffering the consequences

D-16 and the other miners are probably cogless, but they’re much bigger than the miners in TF One, with this D being closer to Megatron’s size. I’m not sure if Orion can transform or not though, but I do have a mental image of D just folding him up into a cube or something, harmlessly as he can easily pop out of it

I also don’t know how Optimus and Megatron come out of this scenario. Best I can say is that Orion unintentionally starts driving D-16 crazy as he finds no leads on who Orion Pax is, and becomes more and more convinced he isn’t actually real, or that he actually did kill him that first day and everything since has just been hallucinations and delusions. But I don’t know about Optimus since becoming Optimus probably means he can no longer be this chaotic little eldritch gremlin thing

And I think that’s about it. Now I have to go study for a quiz and probably start on that short story I have due tonight

#I don’t know if anyone will care for this #but here it is #I probably won’t do much with it since again it’s just a silly little thing #transformers #transformers au #orion pax #d 16 #random stuff

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purposefully-lost · 1 day ago

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It wasn't very long before a small crowd started to form, as people filtered out from the venue and some of them had the same idea Charlie did. He stepped back from the gate as more people arrived and kept his face down, shoving his hands into pockets and hoping no one thought to look too hard in his direction. It was stupid to come out here like this or to have even been in the crowd, he realized that, but he hadn't wanted to miss a chance to see Vi in action. And since he was so close, he sort of wanted to see him again.

Charlie frowned to himself. There was no sort of about it. He really wanted to see him again. He'd been struggling to bring himself to respond to any messages Vi had sent him, but he hadn't left his mind at all since that one brief visit. It was something in the way Vi had been so.. careful. Earnest and bold, certainly, but he hadn't expected anything more than what Charlie had been ready to give. It'd been deeply appreciated. And he couldn't get the image of Vi settled at his piano, a grin on his face that scrunched up his nose and made his eyes shine bright, out of his head.

He was just beginning to debate if he should leave anyway when the cheer from the crowd around him alerted him to the fact that Vi had appeared. Charlie looked up, then quickly dropped his gaze, reaching up to tug at his hood and keep it in place. Then, carefully, he stepped out of a few fans' way and risked another glance back up at Vi.

He was dressed a little more comfortably now, having traded heels for something more practical and pulled on a robe against the cold. He still looked.. extravagant, somehow. Between the lingering smears of makeup and the tousled look to his hair spoke of the kind of nights that Charlie was all too familiar with, the come down from a show when everyone was exhausted, but still just on this side of wired enough to not collapse just yet. No matter how much sleep he needed, he'd always be up until the early morning, just trying to breathe through the residual energy he'd been left with. He watched him banter with fans and sign autographs for a long moment, lingering at the edge of the crowd, and froze the moment he felt Vi's gaze land on him.

Charlie flashed him a brief, awkward smile, though it was hard not to feel his chest swell from just the acknowledgment between them. At least Vi knew, now, that he'd been here. Glancing over the rest of the crowd, he decided it was as good a time as any to slip away. He made it back to his car before he felt his phone buzz and looked down to check the message.

He had to read it three or four times. Vi wanted him to come visit? For a split second, he felt lightheaded with elation, but then the familiar old sickly feeling settled down into his gut. Yeah, sure, it might be nice-- go up to the hotel room, share a few drinks, maybe meet some of his crew, that wasn't so bad, was it? But he'd already been out for a good few hours, and he could still feel the lingering cornered-animal kind of anxiety that came from being locked within a sea of people. He didn't know if it was a good night for that, really. Frowning down at his phone, he set it aside and turned his attention to starting up the car, and the traffic he was about to have to deal with. He would just apologize to Vi later for missing it.

This his phone dinged again with the address, the hotel room number. It wasn't too far. Staring down at it, Charlie bit down on his lip and made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat before he turned his attention back to the parking lot.

-----

It took him longer than he'd have liked to get to the hotel, but the time still hadn't been too bad. Still trying to sink out of sight and struggling with a stuttering heartbeat every step of the way, he made his way up to the room Vi had sent him and knocked on the door.

Victory checked his phone again, opening the messaging app and confirming for the hundredth time this was the right spot. He'd pulled off some kind of miracle in the last month, not only getting in contact with one of his favorite artists, but managing to keep it going almost regularly. And now he was standing outside of an unfamiliar building on an unfamiliar street in the middle of Appalachian nowhere, getting ready to meet him in person.

He'd dressed down for the occasion, mostly for his own sake, but for Charlie's too. His own success was leading to more and more people clocking him while he was out, and he doubted dressing like Elton John would help him blend in in a place like this. The bleached hair he'd been sporting recently was tucked nicely under a baseball cap, his extensive ink work covered by a baggy sweatshirt. He'd even taken his earrings out in a rush, storing them in his pocket when he realized he'd forgotten to leave them in his hotel room. The last thing Charlie needed was to be bombarded because he agreed to meet him.

In the middle of using his phone screen as a mirror, his eyes widened as it lit up with a text. Vi quickly shoved it in his pocket and gave a quick sweep of the area. He frowned for a moment, but before he could pull out his phone again, his eyes landed on a familiar face, his own quickly brightening into a grin. Bouncing on his feet, he laughed as he waved his arms to usher his pen pal over.

Charlie Reimes. Cane Corso had been a staple on his playlists for years, and here was the frontman in the flesh. -- All because he'd gotten drunk and too bold, sending him what was an embarrassing DM expressing his admiration. It was a testament to maybe not all of his questionable choices led to questionable outcomes.

Beaming, he practically hopped the rest of the way over to him, his smile toothy, cheeks pink, and his eyes crinkled. "I can't believe it! I don't think you understand how massive this is to me." He said, babbling a little in his excitement. "I can't even begin to thank you. You've been such an inspiration to me forever and-" Oh! Oh, shit. Face flooding with color, he lifted his hands to wave off the starstruck gibberish, and instead offered him his palm. "I-I'm Vi." He managed, "It's nice to see you in person."

@purposefully-lost

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jackal-202 · 2 years ago

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so I had a dream that I had just finished a lesson(maths), and like every week I was trying to meet up with my friends, but my friends were being idiots and we were trying to meet up in London so it was harder and I had to go home first. And I bumped into the most beautiful women I've ever seen, like she was Wow, the ends of her hair looked like they was covered in pollen ya know, she was on a bike that was attached to a van and she was cycling this van around and I wasn't really paying attention and I crossed a road (cycle lane) and she almost ran me over and we apologised and I went on my way, then I was waiting at a bus stop and she CAME AND FOUND ME and started a conversation and she was interested in my life and I was trying so hard not to lie to her but I didn't want her to know anything about me (stranger danger) but she was the most beautiful person I've ever seen and had a conversation with, she noticed how carefully I was saying things and then I woke up, it's like it was more her dream then mine, mine was so normal but she realised something was wrong and I woke up, do you understand what I mean? Anyway, really she wasn't that beautiful appearance wise, she was beautiful because she went out of her way to talk to me and she was kind, the whole idea of love rendering your loved ones beautiful-- like they might only be beautiful because you love them, it doesn't really matter and I hope you understand what I mean

#dreams #i mean it really was a dream #i walked out of a train station(this specific one is featured in my dreams a lot)#and opened my phone to use google maps to find the fastest way home #and at first i was going to use the tube #but i ended up going to a bus stop that was merged with a coffee shop and i think a train station?#it was like a bus terminal that was only one bus stop #like it was so surreal #im expecting this to happen to me in approximately five-six months #that ill just get the most in tense feeling of de ja vu #its happened before #im just writing this down so i have proof of the dream and my thoughts #this might be too much too early in the morning

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genekies · 4 months ago

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tag vent

#i have to move back to my hometown due to a mistake. a misunderstanding. and being too trusting in others ideas #and my boyfriend is moving an hour away as well. neither of us have been able to get a car or license yet due to money and i dont know when #we can see eachother again after we both move. since we started dating weve been sleeping in the same bed because we were/are roommates #just being gone for the weekend in my hometown is hard because i cant stand to be here but its worse because hes not in my bed every night #ive grown so used to falling alseep in his arms that i dont know what to do at night. i dont feel safe without his arms holding me #ive never felt safe where ive lived before. ive never felt safe in a relationship. ive never felt loved for who i am. that was until him.#now i feel safe in our home. i feel safe in our relationship. i feel loved for who i am. and now we have to be so far apart.#ive done long distance before but this is going to hurt so much my cat loves him she is super cautious and scared around new people but #she loved him since the start. not to mention shes my esa so that really mattered to me. he wants to move with me but it isnt happening #he got definite housing an hour away for super cheap in a town where he knows everyone and i have possible in a town where im surrounded by #people i know but am terrified of. im scared to move back here but have no choice. unless i make that terrifying choice of going with him.#the apartment he is getting is a two bedroom. id only have a studio. hes offered for me to come but im scared to move that far away again #i want to be with him but im scared to move to a whole new town with him. i know hes an amazing guy but we'd be moving away from my friends #and family. i already have to move away from all my friends if i go back to my hometown but this would be a different story.#moving to a whole new town with a guy that i only started dating 2 months ago? like yes. i lived with him previously and knew him for longer #than we dated but im still scared. i think rightfully so. but still.#but there are some pros to moving with him. hometown has no music scene and his town does and thats really important to me.#we'd also be close to his family. but farther from mine. hed be around friends and id have none no matter where i go.#idk im just rambling but i really needed to vent. i lost my best friend recently to the point of them siding with strangers almost and they #helped them break and enter into the house to intimidate me and bf and then a few days later came with cops after saying repeatedly that #they were an anarchist and acab but only when they dont use them apparently. because i guess morals/values only matter when its convenient #im so tired though but i cant sleep so i might write some cringe poetry and try to chill out before going on a late night/early morning walk #tag vent #vent in tags

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bunnihearted · 5 months ago

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🍰🥛

#i've been so good not complaining about this... so im gonna do it now :3 #early this week during my walk... a point in my shoulder / collarbone / neck started hurting so bad #it was at that level where your saliva production increases and you start feelings slightly nauseous #idk if it was bc it was so painful OR if the pain is at a point that puts pressure on certain nerves #and during the week i've felt it on and off but at a much lowe intensity #but this morning i woke up at 6am and couldnt fall asleep bc it hurt too much 🥴#i've googled sm but i just cant figure out at all what it could be... this doesnt fit any description #it isnt focused in my shoulder joint bc i can move my arm in all directions and degrees and it doesnt make it worse #anyway i read and read but i cant figure out at all what it is and that annoys me bc now idk what to do T-T #it could maybeeeee be that im so fkn tense and always have muscle tension in my neck throat and shoulders #it is possible that it now hit a specific pressure point and now i have a pinched nerve type of situation where my muscles are tensed up #or it is bc i could have done certain exercises wrong at the gym #im always so anxious and cautious abt exercising wrong but i still cant ever be sure if i do it correctly :(((#i might have used one of the machines for shoulders/biceps/back incorrectly #like maybe the seat has been too high or low :/// and now i've strained smth???#it made me so sad tho bc when i was at the gym this week i skipped all upperbody exercises bc im too scared 😔#i want it to pass bc like it actually hurts in such a weird and uncomfortable way like it makes me wanna puke and it comes in waves #but nothing makes it better like not heat not painkillers not stretches ... so im just not doing too much #and hope it will go away :'))) but also now im scared of exercising bc what if im doing it wrong and damage my body?!? 😭#i hate my body bc i have so many random unexplainable pains and it is so annoying >.<#ok now i've complained so i feel better ^-^

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mollywog · 2 days ago

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Read Part 2 on Ao3

He’s just stepped outside for his morning break when he sees it: A dandelion growing up through a crack in the sidewalk behind the bakery; a burst of color among the drab winter grays. Spring is coming. He checks the date on his phone: March 20th - no, spring is here.

He’s been dragging himself around since January. Since he’s apparently missed their date two years in the future and Katniss had called off their correspondence.

But the dandelion has reawakened him.

Part 2 now on Ao3

Her letters had always been vague on personal details; he didn’t know things like where she worked or bought groceries so that he might try to meet her naturally now. But today, staring at the yellow flower, he remembers one particular he’d previously overlooked…

He races home and straight to the attic where he’d tucked away all their letters he’d saved: too painful to keep out, but too precious to dispose of. He rifles through the papers, scanning each one till he finds it; an off handed mention of how she’d begun taking her lunch in the hospital courtyard when the spring had arrived early this year…

She could be there now! What if he could meet her before even their first letter. Before it had all gone wrong.

Pages flutter to the floor as he stands; grabbing his jacket, he races out the door. Throwing the truck in reverse, he looks over his shoulder when a flash of red catches his eye.

The mailbox flag is up.

The metal box is purely decorative; Here before he moved in, despite the mail carrier not delivering up this far. It’s only ever been used to communicate with Katniss.

He puts the truck into park, staring at the small red flag as he slowly approaches in disbelief. She’d been firm in her final letter, never retrieving any of the others he'd placed in the box, lowering the flag each time, his pleas left inside unread.

What’s changed now?

There’s a single scrap of paper, unevenly torn from a notebook, the scrawl frantic, ink intermittently dying out mid letter - yet he can read every word;

Peeta, I know why you didn’t show up that night in January. Please don’t try to find me today. It will end badly - It can only end badly unless you wait. If you still care for me in two years, I’ll be here: at the lake house, and if not, I can be glad that you’re simply alive, but don’t look for me, don’t try to find me yet. Please wait. Please! I lo…

He stands frozen, the note clutched in his hand, reading and rereading. How could she have known he would look for her? What would happen if he went anyway? And did she really mean to tell him she loves him before she’d run out of room on the page? It feels too much to hope for, but it seems there’s only one way to find out.

~~~~~

It takes all his willpower, but he doesn’t try to find her that day, nor the days immediately after. Instead he throws himself into the house: caulking and painting, replacing smoke alarms and light bulbs, and when it’s finally warm enough, planting wildflowers in front of the bay window facing the lake. Readying the place for the next occupant: for Katniss.

A few months later he puts the house on the market.

His brothers think he’s mad after all he’s poured into it, and maybe he is, but he doesn’t know how this works and he won’t risk screwing up the timeline. Besides, it had always been more like a project than a home and based on her letters, Katniss had needed this place more than him.

Despite his convictions, he can barely believe it when he sees the familiar signature on the offer.

He moves into a modest apartment close to the bakery.

His pretty neighbor stops by often to flirt. She’s sweet and kind and he thinks under different circumstances he’d flirt back and see where things led, but now he’s not even tempted: He’s waiting for Katniss.

So he gently rebuffs her advances until she begins looking for cups of sugar and small talk elsewhere.

He starts painting again. He hasn’t picked up a brush since his accident in high school when he’d lost his leg, but he remembers Katniss writing about singing for the first time after her father’s death and he wants to be brave like that.

Time continues to pass, both by inches and miles.

Another spring comes and his brother’s wife gives birth. The first time he holds his niece he weeps.

He knows his family thinks he’s moorless, letting his life pass him by, but that’s the furthest thing from his mind. He could be dead if not for Katniss’s warning and have never known this joy.

His paintings are featured in a local gallery with a piece right in the front window. He wonders if Katniss has ever walked past it. If she’s stopped to admire, or even notice at all.

He doesn’t look for her exactly, but he’s always vigilant of his surroundings. Wondering if they’ve crossed paths unaware. Maybe she had sat at this park bench mere minutes before or passed him in the produce aisle as he considered the pears.

The fateful January 2nd comes: The one they’d agreed to meet on.

He still doesn’t understand how any of this works, but he’s certain he can’t show up this time around either: the whole house of cards could come tumbling down. In one of his moments of firmer resolve he takes a dose of sleep syrup so he can’t change his mind.

He wakes the next morning in misery. But after rereading all her letters, he’s more determined than ever to make up for lost time if only she’ll allow it.

So he waits for the spring until it finally arrives.

The day begins like any other: He gets up at the usual time and goes through the familiar routine: showering, dressing, brushing his teeth. But instead of heading to work he leaves a message at the bakery that he won’t be in today. He feels a little guilty for the cake consultation he’ll miss, but he’d been too superstitious to take the day off in advance.

His anticipation grows as he paces the apartment, eventually finding himself appraising his reflection in front of the bathroom mirror. He was never more himself than when he wrote to her, but will she be disappointed if he’s not the tall, handsome stranger she might have imagined?

He can’t bear to speculate so he grabs his keys and heads for a diner outside of town, just a short drive from the lake house. He orders tea and doodles on the placemat to keep his eyes from flitting to the clock behind the register as the final minutes seem to pass slower than the years he’s already waited thus far. He has a conviction that he can’t see her before her last letter was sent and only after the second hand passes twelve on his predetermined time does he stand from the booth.

He heads to the truck when he’s stopped in his tracks by a dandelion growing inches from his front tire. Had he pulled up any closer, it would have been crushed. And yet, by luck, or maybe by fate, it survived. His nerves bubble over into laughter at the sight. He plucks up the flower, twirling it between his finger and thumb and a strange calmness washes over him.

In no time at all he’s turning off 74th onto the familiar gravel road of Mockingjay Lane and when the house comes into view, a woman turns from the mailbox where the flag still stands erect.

Katniss.

There are tears in her eyes and a disbelieving smile on her face as she wraps herself in his arms and he finally, finally feels like he’s home.

My THG Comment Feast Fic - Inspired by an 18 month old prompt of ‘postcard’ and the 2006 movie ‘The Lake House’

Read on AO3

The bell above the door dings as they enter the bakery and the broad shouldered man behind the counter looks up from his phone, fixing a smile as he welcomes them in.

Prim returns the smile, leading them towards the counter, arms linked. Katniss pays little mind to the introductions and chatter of the man and her sister, staring disinterestedly at the display case of pastries until Prim’s voice close to her ear brings her back to the present, “He’s cute!” Katniss looks up to catch the back of the baker’s unnaturally blond head as he slips out through a swinging door behind the counter, “and I didn’t see a ring.”

“Yeah well I do,” she says, grasping her sister’s hand from under her arm, playfully waving it in front of them. “We’re here to talk wedding cakes, remember?”

Prim rolls her eyes, “don’t be obtuse: I obviously meant for you. Come on Katniss, how long has it been since you’ve been on a date?”

She shrugs, turning away. She hadn't told her sister about her last romance and recent split… if you could even call it that. Prim wouldn't understand - hell, Katniss barely understands. Nevertheless, she knows her low spirits haven’t gone unnoticed. Prim’s worried about her when she should be focused on the happiest day of her life.

Katniss smiles weakly. She’s trying. She really is trying. She’s here isn’t she?

The man re-emerges with another who can only reasonably be his brother, taking his place at the register while the first man ushers them back to an office off the kitchen.

“I’ve always loved your cakes,” Prim starts in.” When we were little I’d drag Katniss to your window to stare at them on our way home from school. God, but that was ages ago, before we moved. Work brought me back to the area and when I got engaged, I just knew I needed one of your cakes for my wedding.”

She takes to watching the man as he and her sister converse. He is handsome, she supposes, but it’s more than her sister’s comment that has her focused on him. There’s something familiar about him, but she can’t put her finger on it.

“My brother would have been doing the cakes back then; I swear he was always more artist than baker. I do the decorating now. I’ve got some samples of my work if you're interested; Make sure it still fits your vision? Actually-” He’s rifling through a stack of binders on his desk, when he pauses, pulling out his phone, “I’ll just show you here.” The screen glows to life and he toggles to his photos, but not before she catches a glimpse. He extends the phone towards Prim, but Katniss’s hand shoots out to intercept.

She clicks the button on the side twice until the lock screen background appears, revealing a full view of what she already suspected was there. All the air is knocked from her lungs, but somehow she’s able to force the words out, “What is this?”

The man’s eyebrows shoot up, but he quickly conceals his surprise, “The lake house? It’s up at the end of 74th, off Mockingjay lane. It was my brother's passion project. You’d never believe what it looked like when he bought it based on that. He fixed it up himself.”

“Katniss! Oh my god, that's your house? What are the odds?” Prim looks up from peering over her shoulder.

Katniss’s thumb sweeps over the screen caressing the glowing image, but it’s not the house she cares about. In the forefront are three men standing together, arms connected in a shoulder embrace. The first is recognizable as the one in front of her now, the third, the brother who replaced him at the register, but it’s the man in the middle she can’t tear her eyes from: “Peeta,” she doesn’t realize she’s said it aloud.

“Yeah, did you know him?”

How can she explain that she does know Peeta? That he’s the only man she’s certain she’s ever loved even though they’d never met. That they’d been exchanging letters through the lake house mailbox for months… oh, and that said mailbox had been transporting her letters two years to the day into the past and his two years forward to the present ever since she moved in… no one would believe her. She barely believes it herself, but here it is in front of her. Proof of Peeta’s existence.

But it still didn’t explain why he’d stood her up when they’d attempted to meet three months ago. He had even been the one to suggest it, making a reservation under his name for January 2nd, two years and one day in the future from when they’d decided for him, but only the next day for her.

But he’d never shown up and as she sat at the table heartbroken and alone, avoiding the waitstaff’s pitying stares, the cold light of reality had crept back in. Of course he hadn’t waited for her. Who was she to even hope for such a thing?

But something is wrong, Peeta’s brother looks suddenly downcast and it dawns on her: ‘Did you know him’

Did not do. Dread pools in her stomach, “what happened?”

“Peeta died. Couple years ago…” He looks at the calendar, “two years ago today actually: the first day of spring. Hit by a bus right in front of the hospital.”

She’s transported back to that day two years prior:

She’d just started at the hospital earlier that month, a receptionist job at Prim’s practice she’d found for her so they could live closer. No sooner had she stepped outside for her lunch break had there been a horrible accident right in front of her eyes.

She’d been the first to reach the man, crouching down by his side to offer what little aid she could until the paramedics from inside could be alerted and arrive. She’d cooed soothing words as she tended to him and bid him to stay with her.

Then his hand had touched her wrist and she’d looked up to find his blue eyes trained on hers and he’d smiled. Actually smiled and replied ‘always’ before closing his eyes and slipping away.

She hadn’t known him then, but the response and those eyes had been haunting her ever since. So much so that she’d quit her job at the hospital, a few months later finding the secluded house by the lake for sale.

… of course Peeta hadn’t made it to their date two months ago, He’d died in her arms years before they’d ever exchanged their first letter…

Her eye flit to tie time displayed on the screen: 9:48, almost three hours before the accident in Peeta’s timeline.

Katniss stands abruptly. “I have to go.” Even as she speaks her plan is still forming, “Prim. I need to take the car. Can you get home alright? I need to… I have to go.”

She has the presence of mind to rip a slip of paper from her sister’s wedding planning journal and grab a pen from the jar on the baker's desk before dashing out the door. She only hopes she makes it with enough time. That he’ll see her note. That he’ll heed her warning…

#everlark fanfiction #fic update

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