#i’d literally fight them both for blankets | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months

Text

Soup for Breakfast

Summary: Javi comes home to find that you caught the flu from your class at school, and wants to help you feel better.

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: FLUFF. This is literally just pure fluff, as Javier Peña lives in my mind rent free as the biggest softie alive. Mentions of food/eating, mentions of death (but in a really wholesome way), reader being sick

Paring: Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of Y/N, reader is an elementary school teacher)

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

A/N: I wrote this when I had COVID because I am convinced that if you told Javi that you were sick, he would literally go to the ends of the earth to help you feel better.

“Hey hermosa, I’m home.” Javi set his keys down on the entryway table and shed his dark gray suit jacket, flopping it over the edge of the kitchen counter.

Silence.

“Hermosa?” He questioned again, concern beginning to creep in his voice.

Since you had started the school year, Javi came home every day looking forward to the image of you sitting at the kitchen table, projects and papers from your 3rd grade class spread across the oak surface. You’d smile and give him a big kiss, ready to share whatever crazy antics your class was up to that day. But when he stepped through the doorway, he noticed the usual construction paper, notebooks and crayons, but the seat where you always were was empty.

“Hey baby, it’s me!” He tried one more time, hoping that you were in a room further down the hall and hadn’t heard him. No response. The silence sent Javi into fight or flight, now picking up his speed as he looked into other rooms to find them all empty. He paced back to the living room, trying to keep his composure, his past experience with missing persons not boding well for his current state. Taking a few more deep breaths before doing anything irrational, Javi went to sit down on the couch, until he heard a small grunt underneath him.

“Please don’t sit on me.” You grumbled, nestled under a large pile of blankets.

“Hermosa, Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me.” Javi shot up, breathing heavily, placing his hand on his chest. You rolled over, shifting around in your blanket heap, head peeking out to look at Javi. “Baby, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Panic still lingering in his words, now realizing you were laying in a near lifeless heap on the couch.

“No, I feel great. Isn’t this what everyone does when they feel good? Roll themselves into a giant blanket pile?” Your remark oozing with sarcasm and a hoarseness in your voice. “The flu has been going around my classroom and I think I got it.” You groaned, your body aching as you shifted yourself further out of your fabric cocoon. “You’d think by this point I’d have the immune system of a steel truck, but these kids are just never ending germ factories.”

Javi quietly chuckled to himself as he knelt next to you, sweeping your hair out of your face and kissing your forehead. As he got closer, he could feel the heat radiating off you, your breaths heavy and labored as you fought to keep your eyelids open. He grazed the back of his large hand against your hairline, his deep brown puppy dog eyes growing more and more concerned.

“Cariño, you look awful.”

“Way to make a girl feel good.”

“No, baby, that’s not what I meant, I-” he tried to quickly rebuttal.

“Javi, I’m just joking. I know I look like a Gremlin someone just pulled out of a garbage can.” You both quietly laughed before you let out a deep cough, only adding to the effect of your disheveled state. “I started feeling gross this afternoon while the kids were at Art and Gym, so I already made sub plans for the rest of the week, just in case.”

Javi leaned back down to kiss your head once again, knowing you really must have felt awful if you were willing to admit the fact you couldn’t fight your way through your sickness so you didn’t need to find a substitute teacher for your class. “Okay, hermosa. I think that’s a good idea.” He sat up to peek his head over the couch, starting at your kitchen. “Give me one second, okay?”

You nodded, already back to being half asleep. Javi began rummaging through the fridge and cabinets, looking for any food that you would 1- eat, and 2- help you feel better. Grimacing at the low stock of items, he began frantically scribbling down a grocery list full of supplies.

“Hey baby?” Javi had made his way back to the couch, squatting down next to you as he handed you a glass of water.

“Mhmmmmhh?” You moaned, outstretching an almost limp arm to take the glass, sitting up as you took a few sips.

“I’m gonna go to the grocery store to get some things. I promise I’ll be right back. Are you gonna be okay while I’m gone?”

“Well I wasn’t planning on going very far anytime soon, I think I’ll be alright.” You half smiled at him, handing him back the now empty glass.

“Okay. I love you.” He kissed you on the top of your head, his nose nestled in your hair before he pulled away, frantically gathering his keys and shutting the door behind him.

“Love you too.” You mumbled, half coherent as you burrowed back down into your blankets.

When Javi got to the store, he was a man on a mission. You would have thought someone had told him Pablo Escobar was inside at the rate he was moving through the aisles. Completely disregarding the list he had thrown together at the house, Javi had a shopping cart of supplies full enough to tend to the entirety of your 3rd grade class. The thought of seeing you sick and in pain absolutely wrecked him, wanting to do anything he could to help you feel better. He was so desperate, in fact, at one point while in the pharmacy section, he had thrown in a box of bandaids, just in case.

When he returned back to the house, he was relieved to find you at least sitting in a semi-upright position watching TV, laughing to yourself at the ridiculous amount of groceries he had just set down on the kitchen counter.

“I didn’t know we were planning on running a hospital out of our home.” You giggled as Javi unbagged the items.

“I just wanted to make sure you had whatever you needed. I may have gone a little overboard.” He replied sheepishly as he continued to unpack a bag full of snacks.

“It’s okay, it’s sweet. Thanks Dr. Peña.”

“Of course.” He finished putting everything in its place before coming back over to you. “Here, drink this.” He passed another cup over to you.

“Wow, you even got me the red Gatorade? You hate the red kind! You really do love me.” A soft smile crept across your face as you took a small sip.

“Well I’m not the one who looks like they’re on their deathbed, Hermosa.” It took every ounce of strength in you to give him a playful shove. “I’m gonna make you some soup, okay?”

“You didn’t need to go all the way to the store for soup, we have soup here.” You rolled your eyes, knowing how much it physically pained Javi to watch you eat Campbell's canned soup after having a taste of one of his mom’s recipes not too long ago.

“I can already hear mi mamá yelling at me from the grave if I let you eat that shit, especially when you’re sick. I’m making you Caldo de Pollo so she doesn’t come back to haunt me. Had it every time I was sick. Swear it makes you feel better.” Your heart was warming at the idea of Javi making one of his late mother’s recipes, thankful that Javi’s dad had given you some of them from her cookbook.

“Thank you, Javi. You’re the best. I’d kiss your sweet face but I’m guessing you don’t want my germs.”

“A quick one won’t hurt anyone, doctor’s orders.” He winked before planting a soft peck on your lips.

As he got up, he went over to your entertainment center under the TV, pulling out 2 different VHS tapes. “Which one?”

“You can’t pit two Harrison Ford classics against each other! Hmmmm, I do love Indiana Jones, but I think Star Wars is gonna have to be the winner today.

“I had a feeling.” He smiled as he popped in the tape, the theme music blasting as he got to work in the kitchen.

Javi had to admit, he wasn’t a terrible chef. It wasn’t until he met you that he actually felt a need to cook. In Colombia, he was either eating out or stealing whatever leftovers Steve and Connie had, and once he came home, his dad cooked, insisting he wanted to keep his wife’s habit alive and well, even after she was gone. After Javi had chopped up all of the vegetables, he tossed them into the pot to let them simmer with the already bubbling chicken and rice. Once the soup was done, he filled a bowl practically to the brim, bringing it over to you, only to be greeted by the sweet sounds of your soft snores, muffled under the blanket draped across your face. He laughed quietly to himself before putting your soup on the end table of the couch and shuffling himself underneath your blanket mountain so your head rested against his thigh as a pillow. He stroked the ends of your hair between his fingers in one hand, the other, rubbing up and down your back in soft, gentle circles.

He let the end credits of the movie roll before turning off the TV and carefully unwrapping you from your blankets, scooping you up to carry you back to bed. As he laid you down, gently tucking you in under the covers, he heard you mumble something.

“What was that, Hermosa?” Javi’s voice just above a whisper.

“I never ate your soup.” You muttered, eyes still closed, words barely coherent.

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep, baby. You need to rest.” He sat on the edge of your bed next to you, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Can I have it for breakfast tomorrow?” You grumbled, as you turned over on your pillow.

Javi laughed to himself. “Of course hermosa. Nos vamos por la mañana con tu sopa. Espero que te sientas mejor pronto. Te amo con todo mí corazon, Osita.” (I’ll see you in the morning with your soup. I hope you feel better soon. I love you with my whole heart, little bear.)

If you would have asked Javier Peña all those years ago if he would have ever made someone soup for breakfast, he would have laughed in your face. But now? Now, he would make a million bowls of soup for breakfast, if it meant he got to spend it with you.

329 notes · View notes

redbullgivesyouwingedkuriboh · 3 months

Text

Since y’all liked me getting beaten down by GX characters so much, here’s:

Yu-Gi-Oh ARC-V Characters ranked by how easily I could take them in a fight

same rules apply: fisticuffs only and my personal feelings about the characters do not matter

also since ARC-V is WEIRD AF when it comes to characters this will be characters that are exclusive to ARC-V. so no repeat of Asuka. We already know I bite harder than she does.

without further ado, here we go:

Reira Akaba. No shit. is literally a baby. if I was a baby kicking kind of person I could punt her into the sun. However as I do not kick babies I am more inclined to wrap her in a lil blanket and put her in the corner.

Yuya Sakaki. Bitch. One good step on his toes and he’s going “reaction shot?!” I pull on his stupid fuckin goggles and snap them back onto his face. he’s down. count to ten.

Yuzu Hiragi. Canonically the bracelet girls really suck at holding their own at any given moment. Yuzu is the weakest physically because she has never seen war or hardship to the level of the other three. I could take her in four seconds. pigtail tug time.

Yuri. The second weakest physically of the Yu boys. has been coddled by Leo for years. probably sparred with Sho at the academy to make himself feel better about having 0% body weight from muscles. eat shit you purple motherfucker.

Dennis McField. not only would I beat him, I would enjoy doing it. I’d love to curbstomp that motherfucker off a boat, except he already did that to himself. physically he is a fuckin twig and I am five feet seven inches of pure unadulterated god complex. he’ll wish I turned his ass into a card.

Reiji Akaba. the scarf works to his detriment. I do two laps around him holding the end of that thing and suddenly his face is turning blue and he’s calling for papa. unfortunately for him I have zero mercy.

Rin. again, the bracelet girls are notoriously bad at being strong independent women. we literally don’t see Rin for most of the series because she got herself kidnapped off the cuff. that being said she could probably hold her own against me, but I think she’s too sweet for that.

Z-ARC. We’ve established I bite. even outside of human form, if you look at him, he’s got a fuck ton of exposed veins, both as regular Z-ARC and Yuya Z-ARC. chompy chompy motherfucker you’ll pass out from the blood loss before I can kick your ass properly.

Yugo. Canonically relies on his motorcycle for fuckin everything. lost to Yuri because he rolled a nat one on his constitution saving throw. even though he’s probably physically in shape from motorcycle stuff I could flick him in the forehead and he’d be whining like a baby. If I got the first shot in, I’d have a 99% chance of winning. If he got to me first it would go to about 60%. again, I bite.

Leo Akaba. Here’s where we get into characters that have a greater than 50% chance of beating me. Leo is canonically ripped and also has zero emotions. I would only win if I got close enough for a nut kick, but there’s only one person who wants to be that close to Leo Akaba and it sure as hell ain’t me.

Sora Shuin’in. Holy fuck who let their feral cat off its leash. Sora is literally insane and I am requesting backup. He’d shove that lollipop so far up my ass that I’d be able to tell whether it was lime or green apple. I live in fear of Sora suddenly materializing in my room

Ruri Kurosaki. Remember how I bite? She bites harder. She puts up with No Shit and also has No Fucks To Give.

Serena. No further explanation needed. I fear that explaining it further would cause Feral Child #2 to burst into my brain and start kicking.

Yusho Sakaki. Sweet mother of blue eyes white dragon. remember how I said my personal feelings don’t matter? now they do. smash. next question. wait what were we talking about?

Shun Kurosaki. kinda lost the plot on Yusho but we’re back on track now. Shun canonically took out armed guards by Batmanning his ass up a wall. There’s posters up for him that say “lost dog” and the caption is just “if you find him please keep him”.

Yuto. Everything that Shun is + Ruri taught him how to effectively bite.

Noburu Gongenzaka. he is actually ripped and wears cement shoes for funzies. he could probably just stomp once and my shaky joints would give out on their own. bye.

Yoko Sakaki. canonically beat the stuffing out of people in her past life and I would let her. angry mom energy means I barely make it out alive. smash. wait— shit—

25 notes · View notes

unexpectedstormy · 11 months

Note

Prompt ask: Cuddles

Bonus points if it includes Wild, Hyrule, Legend, and/or Ravio or Wolfie 💜

Oops. Here's 1051 words of everyone's favorite chaos duo (and Epona too!) somehow managing mischief even when trapped in an icy sinkhole.

******

"Well this is fun," Wild said, hands on his hips and looked up at the tall and ice-covered walls of the circular pit they were in.

"I wouldn't call being portaled into an inescapable icy sinkhole as fun," Hyrule said.

"At least we got the horse," Wild glanced Epona who made an annoyed horse noise and shook her mane.

"And we got everyone's stuff too," Hyrule said eyeing Epona's saddlebags. "We should look through them and see if there's anything we can use to get out of here like a hookshot or something."

"Good idea, ehehehe, and we have a rare opportunity to see what cool stuff they've got hidden away," Wild said.

Three raided sweets stashes, two explosions, and one weirdly angry bottled bee later and the two boys found nothing that could help them escape their icy prison; annoyingly, the rest of their companions had kept their mobility items on their person for the portal jump.

“I hope everyone else is okay out there,” Hyrule said making a little next out of blankets and clothes from everyone’s bags. “The sky is clear tonight which means it is going to be very cold.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Wild said piling blankets on Epona’s back. “Probably. Hopefully…. They better be.”

“How thick do you think this ice is?” Hyrule tapped a bare patch of dark blue ice that filled the entire bottom of the sinkhole. “It looks thick enough to tolerate a fire, don’t you think?”

“If it can hold the weight of a fully-laden horse I’m sure it’s thick enough for a bonfire, let alone a regular campfire.”

“Oh? Bonfire time? I’ll start setting it up!”

“Don’t get too crazy,” Wild cautioned. “I’d rather not go swimming if we can help it. Also, you don’t happen to have any grass or hay for Epona in your pack do you?”

“Uh, sorry, no. I only have breadsticks, salted ham, and all of Warriors’ candy.”

“Hmm. Alright. Sorry girl, looks like you’re having only apples and carrots for dinner.”

Epona made a horse noise that was the equivalent of “I really don’t mind. Give me all the apples and carrots you got.”

******

Two hours later, Hyrule and Wild were cozied up together in the blanket and clothing nest well fed and sitting in front of the roaring bonfire with Epona standing close behind on her own bed of blankets laid down for her (sorry Legend, they’re your blankets).

“How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?” Wild asked. Hyrule sighed.

“Probably a while. The others have no way to know that we’re down here. It’s not like we walked here and left tracks or a trail for Wolfie to follow.”

“I have enough apples for Epona to last two or three days at the most, then we’ll have to start sharing our food with her,” Wild said. “I love you Epona, but I’d rather not give you all the wheat and rice I have, which isn’t very much to start with.”

“I wonder if she likes salted ham,” Hyrule pondered. “Or candy.”

“She probably does,” Wild shrugged. “They say horses are omnivores. Isn’t that right, girl?”

Epona made a horse noise that meant “I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.”

“Despite the literal icy prison we’re in, this isn’t so bad,” Hyrule mused. “We’ve got a bigger fire than Time normally lets us make, all the blankets we could ever want, and nobody to fight with over the food. We can eat as much bread and meat skewers and other people’s sweets as we want.”

“You know what? You’re right,” Wild agreed. “Let’s enjoy being in ice jail while we’re here.”

“I hope they don’t find us anytime soon,” Hyrule said. “We’ve only just begun to scratch the surface of exploring what’s in everyone’s packs.”

“Hehe, then let’s get back to it… in the morning,” Wild yawned. “I’m tired and it’s cold.”

“Sure thing,” Hyrule said and nestled even further down into the blankets like a kitten.

******

“Well you guys look cozy,” a voice woke both Wild and Hyrule in the early morning.

“Twilight!” Wild exclaimed disentangling himself from the blanket pile he’d burrowed into. “What are you doing here?!”

“Looking for you two. And Epona. And all our stuff. Which it looks like you took the liberty of exploring.”

“You realize this is an ice-filled sinkhole and we can’t get out of here right?” Hyrule said. “You just trapped yourself down here with us.”

“How do you think I got down here?” Twilight rattled the climbing harness and the rope that connected him to the upper rim of the sinkhole. Sky and Legend waved down at them. Hyrule waved back and Wild gave them a thumbs up.

“Oh yay, we’re saved,” Hyrule said apathetically.

“Why don’t you sound excited?” Twilight asked. “We’re going to fish you out of this hole.”

“Is everyone else alright?” Wild asked.

“Yeah, everyone’s fine. We all managed to find the same hunting cabin and stayed the night there.”

“How did you even find us?” Hyrule asked.

“We saw your smoke signal,” Twilight motioned to the smoldering remains of their bonfire. “You went a little crazy, didn’t ya?” Hyrule giggled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wild said.

“It’s a perfectly ordinary regular-sized campfire,” Hyrule said.

“Neigh,” Epona disagreed.

“Are you two going to get up or just sit there wrapped in blankets like a pair of hibernating bears?”

“Alright, alright, we’re going,” Wild reluctantly stood up and Hyrule groaned and wrapped the blankets around his shoulders even tighter.

“Four’s making berry porridge at the cabin, so if you want some before Wind eats it all, you two had better hurry up,” Twilight said.

“The question is how do we get Epona out of the pit?” Hyrule asked.

“That’s the easy part,” Wild said. “I have horse armor that can teleport the horse. All I—or you or Time—have to do is to whistle the horse-call song and poof! There she is beside you.”

“What? Seriously? That’s so cool!” Hyrule exclaimed.

“Let’s do that then,” Twilight said. “You two get up and pack up and we’ll rappel you up.”

“This has been one short lived vacation,” Hyrule said. “But it was a good one.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Wild agreed.

The End.

#an unexpected ask #ask game #I don't pretend to know anything about horses or horse noises #I remember nothing from my elementary school horse phase #linked universe #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu epona #lu twilight #crack #fluff #stormy writes

78 notes · View notes

direwombat · 3 months

Text

OC INTERVIEW

tagged by @carlosoliveiraa, @aceghosts, @finding-comfort-in-rain, @cassietrn, @g0dspeeed, and @simplegenius042 for a little oc interview! making this kind of a part 2 to this oc interview i did a while ago.

“Jesus Christ,” Sybille hisses, sinking into the folding chair set up on the other side of Wheaty’s desk, haggard and weary from six weeks of nonstop fighting. “Are we really doin’ this shit again?”

He regards her, equally exhausted, and sighs. “It’s for morale, Dep. People gotta remember you’re human too.”

“Why?” she scowls. “Aint’ it more inspirin’ if they think I’m Wonder Woman or some shit?”

“Yeah, well, Wonder Woman has literal super powers,” Wheaty says. The attempt at levity falls flat, as Sybille levels him with a glare. “Look,” he sighs, “I know it seems counterintuitive to you, but reminding the people that you’re a person, just like them, will help inspire them to keep fighting against the Cult. Normal life is almost back in the Valley, you know? We gotta remind them that the fight’s still going.”

She’s silent for a long moment, before ultimately relenting. “Fine. Ask ya damn questions.”

WHEATY: Name?

SYBILLE: Sybille Marie La Roux.

WHEATY: Nickname?

SYBILLE: Was “Sarge” for a while. Mostly just “Dep” or “Syb” these days.

Editor’s note: Also “Sweetheart/Honey/Jackrabbit” if your name is Jacob Seed.

WHEATY: Gender?

SYBILLE: [Rustling of fabric as she shrugs] Female

WHEATY: Star sign?

SYBILLE: Taurus

WHEATY: Moon and rising?

SYBILLE: What now?

Editor’s note: She’s a Scorpio Moon and Capricorn Rising.

WHEATY: Personality type?

SYBILLE: The fuck does that mean?

WHEATY: Y'know. Like. Uh. Your Myers-Briggs or Enneagram type.

SYBILLE: I dunno what any of those words mean.

WHEATY: Y'know what, here. Let me call Xander up and see if he has the quizzes handy.

SYBILLE: The what now?

[A painful half-hour of listening to Sybille take various personality quizzes live on the air]

SYBILLE: [Very slowly] “Lawful Neutral,” “ISTJ,” “Type 8w9,” and “choleric.” [Long pause] Wheaty, all these words are nonsense.

WHEATY: Height?

SYBILLE: 5'9"

WHEATY: Orientation?

SYBILLE: [Muttering] Jesus Christ. [Louder] I’m bisexual and I ain’t lookin’.

Editor's note: The rest of the county doesn't know she's taken by this point.

WHEATY: Nationality/Ethnicity?

SYBILLE: American. Cajun French.

WHEATY: Favorite Fruit?

SYBILLE: [Sighs wistfully] I’d kill for a mango or nectarine.

WHEATY: Favorite Season?

SYBILLE: Spring. But since movin’ to Montana, I understand the appeal of autumn.

WHEATY: Favorite Flower?

SYBILLE: Hibiscus.

WHEATY: Favorite Scent?

SYBILLE: Fresh coffee. Pine. Frankincense. Shit, I dunno, it’s hard to pick just one.

WHEATY: Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate:

SYBILLE: Coffee. Black.

WHEATY: Average Hours of Sleep:

SYBILLE: [Long silence] Not nearly enough.

Editor’s Note: Between 4-5 on a good day; closer to 2-3 on bad ones.

WHEATY: Dog or Cat Person?

SYBILLE: [Rustling of fabric as she leans over to pet Boomer] I like both, but overall ‘m more of a dog person.

WHEATY: Dream Trip?

SYBILLE: Shit, it really is a dream trip now, ain’t it? Woulda liked to’ve roadtripped ‘round Australia, but I doubt that’ll ever happen, now.

WHEATY: Favorite Fictional/Real Character?

SYBILLE: Jesus, I dunno. Trinity from the Matrix, I guess.

WHEATY: Yeah, I can see that.

WHEATY: Number of Blankets You Sleep With?

SYBILLE: Depends on where I end up sleepin’. ‘F I can find a cabin or bunker, then one or two. Otherwise it’s just my leather jacket.

WHEATY: Random Fact?

SYBILLE: Was on the track team my freshman and sophomore years of high school, before I had to drop out.

this one has been going around so sorry for any double tags, but, tagging: @marivenah, @corvosattano, @trench-rot, @harmonyowl, @fourlittleseedlings, @purplehairsecretlair, @adelaidedrubman, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @voidika, @locustandwildhoney, @testyfestyenthusiast, @strangefable, @inafieldofdaisies, @alexxmason, @deputyash, @josephslittledeputy, and anyone else wanting to do this for their ocs!

#oc: deputy sybille la roux #who's the editor? don't worry about it #(it's me. i'm the editor)#also i will get to everyone's tags eventually i promise #i'm just having a severe case of brain sludge so it may take me a moment

29 notes · View notes

lovesosweeet · 6 months

Text

better left unsaid // cth

chapter seventeen

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

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

august 14, 2018 los angeles, california orion

Since our tense conversation — I can’t call it a fight, nor do I want to — Calum has texted me at least once every hour that he’s awake. It’s refreshing. He’s a much better partner and boyfriend than any of my previous relationships in all regards, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’s actually following up on what he says.

My ex that I’d dated from the start of freshman year through a few months before I left for Spain was horrible about texting me. He’d always forget to text me good night, then didn’t bother to reply to my good mornings. We wouldn’t start texting until I’d text him again a few hours later. I would time that message by posting a Snapchat story and then waiting to see if he’d viewed it. It was toxic, and he never followed up on his promises that things would get better and he’d text me more.

It had always felt silly to get so hung up on something so seemingly small, but it kept being a recurring problem. He always promised that he would text me more and show me just how important I was, but the proof never showed up.

With Calum, the moment he knows I have a problem with something, he works to fix it. This is another instance of it. While it may only be two days after he promised he’d keep in better contact with me, he has upheld his promise impeccably.

Just more reasons to love him, and more reason to be racked with guilt from keeping a massive, literally life or death, secret from him.

Today is round three of chemotherapy, and since we both are going to the same place, Macy and I are going together. Her mom will drop us off and Emelia will pick us up. I’ve packed my fluffy blanket again, along with Uno and a phone charger. It’s yet again another day where I wear one of Calum’s left-behind sweatshirts with a pair of shorts that are hidden underneath the oversized top. With my worn-out but very comfortable Birkenstocks, I’m wearing fuzzy socks.

Macy knocks on my door to let me know she’s here, and I give Duke a peanut butter filled Kong to keep him busy while I’m gone. I swing open the door and find her standing there, wearing an outfit almost identical to mine, except her sweatshirt is likely her own, with UCSD in large, embroidered block letters across the chest.

“Good morning,” I tell her. I close the door behind myself and lock it.

“Damn, I really thought I might get an Orion latte this morning,” she pouts.

“Oh, shit, I can go back in and make you one? It’ll only take a few minutes.”

Macy shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. Maybe next time, though?”

I nod and we start walking toward the elevator. “Yeah, next time. How are you feeling today?”

Macy has just this week and next week left on this treatment cycle. Her team is pretty confident that this final round should hopefully send her back into remission and she can resume her coursework in the spring. After years of going in and out of treatment, Macy doesn’t want to get her hopes up, so she’s currently still planning on starting school again in the fall next year. That said, she’s felt pretty miserable for the past few weeks.

Her cancer — Hodgkin’s lymphoma — is currently just in stage one, caught early because she has regular visits to her oncologist over the years to monitor. While my treatment is supposed to be six weeks of chemo appointments, hers is only three weeks, but she has them twice a week.

“Like death, but, just means it’s working,” she says, pressing the button for the lobby. “You?”

“Same.”

We ride down to the lobby in silence, listening to the hum of the machinery that makes it move. There’s no elevator music, which I’m grateful for since I don’t know if I could listen to it every time I take the elevator. When the doors slide open, we find Ron behind the desk like normal, and he smiles when he sees us. I fight to smile back at him.

“Good morning!” He calls out.

Macy and I both raise a hand in a haphazard wave.

“Morning, Ron,” I manage to reply.

Macy’s mom is waiting for us in the car in the parking garage, and she’s on some kind of business call when we get in, so she doesn’t say anything to us as we buckle our seatbelts and she pulls out of the parking space. Macy and I are both just on our phones for the drive, since her mom’s call seems pretty important and I don’t want my voice to be echoing in the background.

I check my phone for the first time since I woke up and see that Ashton has texted me. It’s in the wee hours of the morning in Adelaide, which is where they should be now, so I’m going to guess that he’s out partying or just coming back to their hotel from it.

From: irwie will you be honest can you tell me how you’re really doing none of the bs where you pretend you’re fine i’m worried i can’t stop thinking about it i can’t sleep i know you and i know you’re pretending it’s all fine and you’re not miserable. please just give me a real update

After reading through, I decide he’s probably not drunk. I don’t think he is out either. I think he’s probably just laying in his bed and overthinking. Kay is probably sound asleep next to him. I triple check the time conversion, and it’s 3:42 am there. I wish that he was as blind to what I’m actually doing back in LA as Calum is.

To: irwie ash, please go to sleep i’ll be fine

Calum had texted me goodnight a few hours prior, too, complete with a selfie of him wearing a sweatshirt I bought him, but I wait to reply to him, since I don’t want the notification to wake him up. I’ll send a message in a few hours while Macy and I get our drips of poison.

Ashton replies almost immediately.

From: irwie orion, please it’s late, i just want to know the truth

To: irwie ash… it’s fine just go to sleep

From: irwie stop it. tell me the truth

To: irwie i’m not lying. it’s fine. it’s gonna be fine

From: irwie you keep saying that but i literally don’t believe you at all just give me an ounce of the truth please

To: irwie oh my god fine i’ve lost 10 pounds bc i’m so nauseous i can barely eat and my body feels like it’s covered in bruises but there are no bruises it just hurts and i’m so fucking tired there’s your update

There’s no activity from Ashton after I send that, and when I look up, we’re at the hospital. Macy’s mom is still on the phone, so we quietly open our doors. I get out of the car and I watch as her mom gives her arm a squeeze, and then Macy joins me. We walk inside and check in, and then we go our separate ways to get our vitals taken.

When we reconvene at the armchairs, Macy is waiting for me.

“My mom says she’s sorry she couldn’t talk in the car,” she mentions as I sit down.

Two employees come over with their carts to hook us up to the IVs. As usual, I close my eyes so I don’t have to watch it happen.

“No, it’s okay, I know she has work.”

I feel the coolness of the wipe on my arm, and I brace for the impact of the needle in my skin. With the pinch, I feel my phone vibrate on my lap.

“I told her you wouldn’t mind, but I just wanted you to know she did apologize.”

I nod, my eyes still shut. When I feel tape over the IV in my arm, I open my eyes again, giving the nurse who’d done it a smile. She tells us to let them know if we need anything before they disappear to tend to other patients.

“Tell her I said thank you for the ride,” I say. I pull my phone out again, seeing what the notification is. It’s Ashton, unsurprisingly.

From: irwie orion promise me you’ll ask for help if you really need it we can’t lose you

His third text is gut-wrenching enough to send me into an emotional spiral, but I do my best to hold myself together. I fight the urge to start crying in the middle of this room where I’m surrounded by people who are all fighting the same battle. It would feel like I’m belittling them. We’re all struggling through the same thing. Why would I be special enough to cry while everyone else is acting fine?

I take a deep breath before I reply.

To: irwie i’m fine. it’s fine.

From: irwie can you please stop lying

To: irwie everything remains as is until i can tell calum.

When he doesn’t reply instantly, I follow up again.

To: irwie please, please go to sleep.

From: irwie 👍

Now he’s mad at me, but hopefully he will at least go to sleep now.

Frustratedly, I lock my phone and push it into the kangaroo pocket on my sweatshirt.

“You good?” Macy asks from next to me.

I gulp, rubbing my eyes. I feel like crying, but this isn’t the time or place. “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s just Ashton.”

“What do you mean?”

Macy knows that Ashton is the only one on the tour who knows about my leukemia, so I know she understands why there may be a problem there. I guess I didn’t really give much context, so her question is valid.

“So it’s like 3:30 am there and he’s texting me saying he can’t sleep and I need to tell him how I’m really doing.”

An unusual smile paints itself across her face. “And that bothers you?”

Bothering me isn’t exactly how I’d describe it. “I just want him to live his life.”

“Orion,” she starts. “Just because you’re stifling your emotions about this whole thing doesn’t mean he can.”

I’m not stifling my emotions. I’ve cried almost every day since Calum left. I feel like I’m drowning in everything that’s going on and it’s practically the only thing that I can think about. My little detour to feeling sad that Calum wasn’t communicating with me as much as I wanted him to was brief, and most of the time I’m just thinking about my literal impending doom.

“I’m not stifling my emotions.”

I don’t meet her eyes, but I know that she rolls them.

“Just because I’m not talking about them doesn’t mean I don’t have them,” I add.

“Can I be honest?” Macy asks.

“I’d prefer you always be honest, so yes.”

“I feel like you’re still in denial about all of this.”

When I don’t have something articulated to say straight away, she adds more.

“I don’t know if it’s truly all set in, and I think a lot of that stems from you not telling Calum.”

She’s probably right. I don’t feel like I can let myself really think everything through, because I know that once I do, I’m one step closer to calling Calum and messing everything up. I’ve worked too hard to protect Calum from my reality. I can’t just throw it all away because I get depressed about my lack of potential future. Even when I’m just home and all alone, I don’t let myself feel sad about the cancer. I just focus on being sad about being alone.

My life is ending, at a faster rate than most other people’s, but right now, I just feel like someone going through a long distance relationship while having the flu. I’m sick and I’m lonely but I don’t feel like I have really processed just how sick I actually am.

read next chapter

a/n: day 2 of nanowrimo we are just over 5k words so far!!!!!!

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #michael clifford #fanfic #fanfiction #5sosfam #ashton irwin #calum hood #luke hemmings #5sos fanfic #calum hood fanfic #calum fluff #calum angst #imagine #calum x oc #original character

19 notes · View notes

mistiell · 2 years

Text

Fluff Alphabet with Eddie Munson

Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

A/N: Still working on those requests, but I figured I’d put something out in the time being. I might do a smut alphabet after this, but I don’t know yet.

A - Activites (What does he like to do with you?)

Literally anything. As long as he’s with you, he doesn’t care what you guys do. He normally lets you choose how you guys spend your free time, happily going along with whatever you suggest.

One thing that he really enjoys is when you guys are together but doing your own thing, just sharing the space. Maybe he’s learning something new on the guitar while you’re sat reading next to him. Or maybe you’re studying and he’s planning a D&D campaign. Sometimes he wants downtime but he also wants you, so doing your own separate activities in comfortable silence is the perfect solution.

B - Beauty (What does he love about you? What does he love most about himself?)

He doesn’t really care much about looks. You could be fresh out of the upside down, covered in dirt and slime and he’d still think you’re the most beautiful being to ever walk the earth. If he had to pick a favourite, though, it would be your tummy. Big or small, he loves it regardless. You’re just so warm and comfy. He loves resting his head on your stomach and falling asleep while you play with his hair.

His favourite feature on himself has got to be his hair. He spends at least 15 minutes every morning making sure it looks good but not so good that people can tell he puts effort into it. In his words, “It’s got to have the right fluff to curl ratio”.

C - Comfort (How would he help you when you’re upset/having a panic attack?)

Lots and lots and lots of cuddles. The moment he sees the tears welling up in your eyes, he’s pulling you right into his arms. If you’re around people, he’ll quickly make an excuse to excuse the both of you to bring you somewhere private so he can hold you and talk it out. Definitely cracks a few jokes to get you to laugh.

He’s a little lost at first when it comes to panic attacks. He’s had them himself a few times, but he didn’t know what they were until you. Whenever it happens in public, he’s quick to pull you out of the situation and get you somewhere quiet. He’ll ask to touch you before he does anything. If you say it’s okay, he’ll hold your hand and rub his thumb against your skin to give you something to focus on while he breathes with you. If not, he’ll sit close to you and get you to do that thing where you name off things you can sense (5 things you can see, 4 things you can feel, etc.)

D - Date (What was the first date with him like? What’s his go-to date?)

Your first date started as an ice cream date. It’s basic, but it was easy. After you guys finished your ice creams, he took you down to lovers lake to watch the sunset and talk. He also brought some weed because of course he did. Y’all ended up having some wildly existential and bizarre conversations that day. You cracked a Lord of the Rings joke and while you were choking and nearly crying over your own joke, he swore he was going to make you his no matter what it took.

His go-to date is a movie, snacks, and a fuck ton of blankets. You guys keep very good track of who’s turn it is to pick the movie now because the one time you forgot, you spent over 30 minutes inside Family Video arguing over whether you should rent “Return of the Living Dead” or “The Breakfast Club”. Robin and Steve were not impressed.

E - Equal (Is he the dominant one or the the passive one in the relationship?)

He’s a little on the passive side. He prefers when you take the lead, but he’ll also put his two cents in about things when needed.

F - Fight (Does he easily forgive you? How is he during fights?)

Eddie does not like conflict. Which often leads to him bottling up whatever’s bothering him to avoid confrontation. He normally goes quiet and gets distant when he’s upset with you. He won’t flat out ignore you, but he’ll give you short answers and won’t go out of his way to make plans. When you do eventually confront him, he denies that anything is wrong at first. But then you start getting frustrated, which in turn gets him frustrated and then the fight actually ensues.

When you guys fight, he does yell, but keep in mind he isn’t yelling at you, he’s yelling near you. He has a hard time expressing what he’s upset about so it can take some time for him to explain everything in a way that’s cohesive and actually makes sense, which can be frustrating in itself. When he catches himself getting a little too heated or a little too loud, he’s quick to apologize and tell you that he’s not yelling at you, more to himself than anything. Once it’s all out in the open, he’s quick to calm down and he’s willing to talk it through with you. He’s also very quick to forgive you. He doesn’t like holding grudges and would rather learn from the fight and move on rather than have it taint your relationship.

G - Gratitude (How grateful is he in general? Is he aware of everything you do for him?)

He is so, so, so grateful for you and he lets you know that on a daily basis. Compliments and “I love you’s” are frequent and always genuine.

He notices all the little things you do for him. He notices when you start packing extra snacks after you notice he only brings a baggy of walnuts for lunch. He notices the little affirmations scribbled in the margins of his notebook after you went over his notes to make sure he had all the information. He definitely notices when you start automatically giving him your hand to fidget with after you caught him biting his nails one too many times. He notices and appreciates it all, more than you could ever know.

H - Honesty (Is he secretive at all? Or does he share everything with you?)

Eddie doesn’t hide much of anything from you. He trusts you 100% and hates lying to you. The only thing that he’s ever really dishonest about is how he’s feeling. Expressing his emotions is something he struggles with, both because he doesn’t want to be a burden and because he often can’t find the right words. However, with a little prying (and sometimes a little weed), he’ll open up to you. When he’s talking, don’t interrupt him and don’t rush him, let him take the time to organize his thoughts and figure out how to say things.

I - Inspiration (Did you change him somehow? Did he change you in anyway?)

You both change over the course of your relationship. Not drastically, but it’s noticeable. You picked up the tongue thing he does when he’s concentrating. You didn’t even notice until Steve was like “Dude, wtf are you doing??”. You’ve also caught yourself mirroring his stance whenever you’re in the same room.

He picked up your sarcasm and your sense of humour. There have been a few times where you two have been hanging out with Steve, Nancy, and Robin and somebody’s done something stupid (normally Steve) and you both came out with the exact same insult at the exact same time. He’s also picked up a couple of your study habits. He doesn’t study very often, but when he does, he finds himself using some of the strategies you shared with him during your many make out study sessions.

J - Jealousy (Does he get jealous easily? How does he deal with it?)

He can get a little jealous sometimes. He trusts you, of course. But sometimes, when someone is flirting with you or you’re giving your attention to someone else for too long, insecurity gets the best of him and he can’t help but feel jealous.

Whenever you’re being flirted with, the PDA gets ramped up to a thousand. He’s got a hand on you at all times, he’s kissing you wherever he can reach, he’s calling you every pet name in the book just to make it clear to anyone within 10 feet of you that you’re his.

If you’re just talking to someone and aren’t paying much attention to what he’s saying, he gets huffy and grumbly. He’ll try to get you to pay attention by grabbing your hand and kissing your cheek, maybe whispering a whiny little “baabe :((“ but if that doesn’t work, he’ll pull away and get a little distant until you finally ask him what’s wrong.

K - Kiss (What was the first kiss like?)

He was so fucking nervous it was unreal. You’re his first real kiss so he was shaking in his boots when he leaned in to kiss you. The only thing going through his head was “Don’t fuck this up don’t fuck this up don’t fuck this up”.

But once you finally met him halfway, he got so lightheaded and tingly that he had to think back to make sure he hadn’t smoked before he took you out to lover’s lake. The moment your lips met, he was hooked.

L - Love Confession (How did he confess to you?)

Good god, this guy pined over you for months before he finally confessed to you. Mostly because he was worried about you. There’s a fair amount of peer backlash when you get into a relationship with the town freak and he didn’t want you to go through all that just to be with him.

I imagine he’d do it just before you guys go into the upside down. Sort of like a “Fuck it, it’s now or never” situation. You’re about to go up on top of the trailer but he grabs your wrist, taking a shaky breath before finally shooting his shot, “Hey, once this is all over, do you- um… do you maybe wanna get some ice cream? With me?”

Cue Dustin’s little “Smooth!” From on top of the trailer, which he pointedly ignores.

You obviously say yes, and when you both get out of there fully alive and nearly unscathed, you set a date.

M - Marriage (Does he want to get married? How does he propose?)

He isn’t too keen on marriage at first. He saw how his parents marriage was and it kind of put him off the idea. When you guys get together, though, his view of it shifts a little. He finds himself thinking about it more often. What it would be like to introduce you as his wife, being able to call you Mrs. Munson. He even scribbled your first name with his last name down in the margins of his notebook once.

The more he thinks about it, the more apparent it becomes that he really would like to call you his wife someday. But maybe not officially.

If he were to ever propose, it would be while you’re doing something really domestic. You’re washing the dishes after breakfast and he’s just watching you when all of a sudden he just blurts out “Marry me?”.

And of course you’re like, “What?” So he repeats himself, coming around the counter to wrap his arms around you. You have to ask him if he’s serious and when he confirms, your heart swells as you nod vigorously. He grins and takes of one of his rings to slip it on to your ring finger. From then on, he introduces you as his wife. Completely skips over the whole fiancée thing, as far as he’s concerned, that ring means you’re hitched. He doesn’t need a fancy wedding or documents to know that he wants you and only you for the rest of his life.

N - Nicknames (What does he call you?)

I made a post about this before so I’m gonna speed run it:

- shortened version of your name

- sweetheart

- babe

- baby

- darlin’

- Gorgeous

- Beatiful

- If you’re shorter than him, he calls you short stuff and hobbit

- pretty girl

- sweet thing

O - On Cloud Nine (What’s he like when he’s in love? Is it obvious to others?)

It is unbelievably obvious how in love with you he is. He opens doors for you, carries your bags no matter how big or how small, he even lets you pick the music you listen to whenever you’re in the car. Any polaroid Nancy has taken of you two where he’s looking at you captures the lovesick gaze he always aims at you.

Before you guys got together, his friends were always begging him to just get it over with and ask you out because they couldn’t take another second of hearing about the mundane little things you did that made Eddie blush that day. Jokes on them, though, ‘cause he talks about you even more now if that’s even possible.

P - PDA (Is he shy about public displays of affection?)

Fuck. No.

Whenever you’re together, it’s rare that he isn’t loving on you in some way. He doesn’t overdo it, of course. Most of the time it’s just a casual hand on your waist or in your back pocket.

Definitely steals kisses from you between classes. He says they keep him focused but you both know that’s just an excuse to kiss you.

Q - Quirk (A random ability he has that’s somehow beneficial to your relationship)

His knack for storytelling is great for distracting you when you’re stressed. Sometimes when you’re upset, he’ll just launch into an absolutely absurd childhood memory of his and the way he tells it has you laughing in minutes.

His voice is a close second. He’s a wonderful singer and will often sing or hum you to sleep when you’re having trouble.

R - Romance (How romantic is he? How far is he willing to go to make you happy?)

Eddie would literally extinguish the sun if you said it was shining too brightly. There is nothing that this man wouldn’t do to make you smile.

As for romance, he’s romantic in his own way. He hates the cheesy rom-com take on love so he does his very best to spice things up and find his own unorthodox way of showing you he loves you.

He memorizes your coffee order from that little cafe in town and brings it to you every Monday without fail because he knows that’s the day you need a pick-me-up most.

He makes you mix tapes full of songs that remind him of you, hoping that you’ll pick up on the lyrics and understand the meaning behind them.

He memorizes your favourite scenes in your favourite movies so that when you start monologuing with your favourite character, he can surprise you by going right along with you.

When it’s pouring rain outside, he drags you outside the trailer to dance with you, twirling and dipping you while you both get absolutely drenched. It’s a very “Eddie” take on romance, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

S - Support (Will he help you achieve your goals? Does he believe in you?)

He believes in you 110%! Anything you want to do in life, he’s right there next to you cheering you on. Doesn’t matter if it’s something everyone else deems “unrealistic”, as far as he’s concerned, you can do absolutely anything you set you’re mind to.

T - Thrill (Does he need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or does he need a certain routine?)

Routines have never worked for him. The most routine he has is brushing his teeth every morning and night. He’s always finding new adventures to partake in despite how small Hawkins is, and if you’ll let him, he’ll drag you along on every single one

U - Understanding (How well does he know you? Is he empathetic?)

He’s unbelievably empathetic and in tune with you’re emotions. He can spot even the slightest of changes in your expressions and mannerisms it’s almost scary.

He remembers tiny things about you that you think are insignificant, but are quite the opposite to him. He treasures everything you tell him about yourself, holding those little pieces of you with the utmost care.

V - Vanity (How much does he care about his looks?)

He isn’t super concerned about his looks. He likes to teeter the line between presentable and “just rolled out of bed” just enough that he looks good without it looking like he put any effort in. His hair is what he spends the most time on simply because it’s a beast and needs to be tamed every morning lest he look like a lion.

W - Wild Card (A random fluff headcanon)

He loves soft things. Blankets, pillows, you name it. As long as it’s soft, he’ll bury himself in it.

X - Xtra (A random headcanon about the relationship)

You paint his nails black whenever his band has a gig. He has a hard time sitting still while you do it, but he really does enjoy the time with you.

He also writes you love letters as if y’all were in a fantasy world. Lots of “My dearest Y/n” and stuff like that.

Y - Yearning (How does he cope when he’s missing you?)

He doesn’t like when you have leave for long periods of time. You’ve become such a big part of his life that it feels wrong not being able to see you for so long.

To cope, he’d probably go through some of the polaroids you gave him before you left, maybe sleep with one of the shirts you left at his place. When you get back, you best believe he’s wrapping you up in a bear hug and won’t be letting you go for the next 3-4 hours.

Z - Zzzz (How does he sleep?)

On his back or on his side. He sleeps best with you tucked right up next to him. Which is also good for you because he’s a blanket hog so if you aren’t snuggled up to him, you’ll be freezing to death on the other side of the mattress.

He snores quietly too. It’s not loud by any means, but you can definitely hear it when you’re that close to him.

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie st4 #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #st4

257 notes · View notes

raspberrysunshinebby · 1 year

Text

Two Choices

I’m gonna change the name I promise. Please send suggestions.)

Chapter 6

Pairing: Eris x reader x Azriel

Summary: The future wife of Eris never cared much for mating bonds, she had spent years in love with Eris and when Beron finally died they could be together. He has full intention to make his love into his High Lady until at a party meant to celebrate Eris’ reign the girl finds herself finding her mate, Azriel.

Warnings: Slight smut, angst, azriel is literally toxic/manipulative and i was going to say kind of abusive but he literally is lol. This chapter contains smut with Azriel (its consensual) and there is a cut off with the warnings for the scene. This will be the only smut scene with Azriel.

Word Count: 4283

One week before Cardan’s conversation with Eris

I’d slept in Azriel’s room for the past month but we both decided to keep my things in my old room in order for me to still have my own space.

I also felt kind of happy because over the past month after our fight when I went out to the game night he let me go on monday to the dinner, as long as he was the one to bring me there and pick me up. As well as the fact we’d only fought once since then, he’d gotten mad at me when I didn’t go to a girls hangout the Inner Court girls had that I had no idea about. It wasn’t bad, but thankfully Feyre confirmed I didn’t know because they didn’t invite me like Azriel asked them to.

Since then we hadn’t fought though, instead I’d been showered in gifts and affection. He’d brought me different necklaces and earrings, he got some bracelets at first but quickly learned I didn’t enjoy them and preferred necklaces.

He’d also become more physically affectionate, usually always having an arm around me or holding my hand. He would leave kisses on my head in public while in private kissed me on the lips and neck. They’re was a few times he kissed my hand as well.

The only times I’d been left alone were when Azriel had to go on missions but he convinced Rhysand to not make them longer than a day.

I laid on my stomach on his bed as he searched for a certain book in his collection I wanted to borrow. A book about a human man who was a sociopath and hated women, fun book.

I watched him as he searched for it, before pulling out a red book, “Got it.” He said before walking over to me. I flipped over to my back as he dropped the book on my stomach, I immediately went to pick it up and read the back.

While I read the back Azriel moved my body to lay on his chest, making it a little hard to read it but I managed. When he finished moving me he layed a kiss in the top on my head.

“Thank you,” I said, excited to read the book since I heard about it. I loved reading about people’s mindsets like this. I leaned more into his chest, he moved my head with his fingers to give me a kiss.

I’d grown a lot more comfortable around him, even seeking his comfort out myself. As much as I hated to admit it, recently the days he was gone I felt empty. Like I didn’t know what to do when he wasn’t there. When he was gone I normally just sat in his room reading, not knowing what else to do. I couldn’t go out with my friends as he wasn’t there to bring me or pick me up and I didn’t want anyone in the Inner Court to do it. So I just sat until he came back.

Azriel sat himself up a little more to wrap an arm around me and rest his head on my shoulder, “Aren’t you going to read it?”

I’d learn to pick up on hints, by his tone and how he pulled on the bond I could tell he wanted me to have my attention on him at the moment. As much as I wanted to read the new book I was more concerned in listening to what he was hinting, wanting to keep him happy because everything was calm when he was happy.

I placed a kiss on his cheek, “I’ll read it later.” he smiled at that before grabbing a large blanket to wrap around the two of us.

He began to tell me about the mission he’d be going on tomorrow, I knew it was coming up but I didn’t want to think about it. It’d be two days long, which meant I’d be alone for two days. He’d mentioned something to Feyre about inviting me to one of their hangout session but mentally I knew they wouldn’t invite me.

As he talked about his mission I kind of spaced out, I didn’t want to think about him leaving, and leaving me alone to fend for myself mentally. I knew the most I’d say was a thank you when someone brought up food.

I let myself bask in the warmth of the blanket and Azriel as he continued talking. As he did he began to play with my hair, running his hands through it and pushing it to the side.

“Are you tired?” He asked, “You look tired.”

I nodded, “A little.” I just really wanted him to stop talking about leaving.

Azriel moved himself over to allow me to lay down properly before getting up for only a moment to turn off any light in the room, once he’d gotten back into the bed he wrapped his arms around me once again before giving me a kiss on the back of my neck, “Goodnight my mate.” He said before allowing us both to drift off.

He ended up leaving extremely early in the morning, only waking me up for a moment to say goodbye before being gone. I basically woke up alone.

I ate the food that had been brought up to me before grabbing the book from last night to read, not having anything else to do. I wanted to start before it really sank into my bones that’d I’d be alone, without Azriel, for the next two days.

With breaks in between chapters to use the bathroom I’d finished the 250 page book in four hours. Not having anything else to do I laid there, I didn’t feel like going to my room to get another book and Azriel had told me I’m not allowed to look through his bookshelf. So I laid there, as I laid there my brain processed that I was alone now, that Azriel wasn’t here at the moment. I started to feel depressed. I didn’t know what to do without him anymore, so I laid there.

I ended up accidentally falling asleep for a few hours, I woke up and checked the clock to realize it was already five thirty in the afternoon.

I rubbed my eyes before forcing myself to go to the bathroom to pee, once I got there and finished I’d decided to take a bath as well. Hoping the water would give me some energy. That was a stupid idea, when the bath finished filling up and I sat in it the pure size of it reminded me it was made for Azriel. It made me realize how much smaller than him I was and as I sat there longer the heat of the water started to fell like him.

I felt like I was going crazy, and then felt like even more of an idiot when I started crying. The feeling of the bath had made me miss him, I debated pulling on the bond but didn’t from not wanting to disturb or anger him. I sat in that bath until it started to feel cold before getting out.

When I left I checked the clock to see it was now seven thirty in the afternoon, I had spent two hours sulking like nothing but a pathetic idiot, and I didn’t even get what I wanted out of it. I felt more tired which lead me to pass out.

When I woke up the next day I noticed the uneaten dinner on the desk in Azriel’s room that I didn’t even think about. When the breakfast came I didn’t have an appetite;

I laid there for two hours before going to the bathroom, when I’d gotten out I’d decided I really needed to get myself another book. Before I approached the door I saw the clock hit twelve twenty in the afternoon.

I walked through the hall to my old room while hearing laughter down the stairs, partially girls giggling with each other. I assumed this was one of the hangouts Azriel asked I’d be invited to, I knew I wouldn’t be but it still kind of hurt.

I continued walking to my room and closed the door as soon as I entered. I skimmed through my collection which was much smaller than Azriel’s but at least I didn’t have to as for his permission.

None of the books really caught my eye, at this point I wanted comfort, I wanted something timeless.

My thoughts immediately fell to the books under my bed that I’d hidden. I didn’t want anyone to know they were there but Azriel wouldn’t be home until tomorrow morning, and no one would check on me. I walked over to my bed and I knelt down to retrieve one.

The book I’d grabbed was a folktale one, one for children which I loved about it. It would be such a simple and good read for me right now. I grabbed a chair and faced it toward the window to use the sunlight as my book light.

As the sun went down so did my makeshift book light, I’d gotten about a quarter of the way through the tales before it started to go down and eventually it turned pitch black, I turned on some candles around me before continuing to read.

Soon I’d feel my heart bumping in my chest as the book was snatched from my hand’s. I’d been so happy this month without the fights, but now my heart sank knowing they’re was about to be a big one.

I looked up to see Azriel’s face turn angry as he read the name of the book, I leaned up on my chair to speak but he beat me. “I thought you were done with this Autumn Court shit.” he didn’t yell or scream. Which scared me even more.

I wanted to explain myself, to tell him it wasn’t what he thought it was but I couldn’t “Please don’t destroy it Az.” I basically whimpered.

“(Y/N), I want you to be so fucking honest with me,” He started out calmly before raising his voice, “Are you still fucking in love with Eris.” He held up the book in my face. His tone switch scared me, making me want to cry.

“I-I’m not.” I stuttered, trying to find my composure.

I swallowed before continuing to speak, “They’re stories from my childhood, they have nothing to do with Eris. Please Az.”

He dropped the book and ran his fingers through his hair, “Mother, why is it the only fucking time you call me Az is when you fucking plead.”

My hands gripped onto my chair, “I’m sorry. I was just lonely and I wanted something nostalgic and-”

“If you were fucking lonely you could have accepted Feyre’s invitation for today.” He said, raising his voice.

My eyes widened, “Feyre didn’t invite me to anything.”

“Bullshit, I asked her and she said that you didn’t want to go.”

My breathing became heavy as my heart pounded.

“I cant believe your still fucking in love with a guy who hit you,” I wanted to tell Azriel that he had hurt my wrist, but I stayed silent due to being to scared to speak, “Is this why you wont have sex with me?” He asked.

I didn’t want to have sex with him because I was scared to, I’d only had sex with one other person my entire life. Having sex with someone new scared me.

“That’s not why Az.” I cried out.

He threw his hands out dramatically, making me flinch. “Yeah well that’s what it fucking feels like, (Y/N).” At this point I felt a warm tear fall down my cheek.

“Stay in here with your Autumn Court shit and cry, I’m going to bed.” He said.

My chest grew tighter as these words came out and I rushed toward him, “No, you cant leave me in here alone Az. I didn’t do anything.” I begged him.

“So now your fucking begging?”

“Please Az,” I begged between sobs, “please don’t leave me alone.”

“Mother you have some attachment issues.” He told me.

Later I’d realize he wasn’t wrong. I really did have serious attachment issues.

Azriel took my arm as he sent one of his shadows to put out the candles before exiting the room with me, he pushed me kind of aggressively down the hall as I sobbed into my hand. I couldn’t see very well through the tears but I saw a blonde girl who I assume was Mor, we passed by her as she said nothing. I was sure she looked at me though.

Once we’d gotten there Azriel said something along the lines of, “Stop crying.” which I did my best to oblige, only to make it worse.

“Az,” I tried to catch my breath, “Please don’t tell me your going to destroy it.”

“Maybe I will,” He said as he changed behind me.

I tried not to sob harder, “Please, I’ll give it away with anything else from the Autumn Court I might still have there.”

I could feel his full attention on me now.

“Just please don’t destroy it.”

I felt the other side of the bed sink down, “Go to sleep.”

I really didn’t feel like I had a choice but to listen.

With me now knowing exactly where everything was in the city, I was able to winnow both me and Azriel to Leilani’s families shop to drop off my Autumn Court things to her. I knew her and her family would take good care of them as they loved Autumn Court things.

I didn’t want to risk keeping anything whether it was big or small, so I was giving her everything I had, from dresses to books to buttons.

Azriel stayed outside as I dropped off the boxes, I didn’t want to give it to her verbally so I instead wrote a note. I was scared I would cry watching the things I love go.

Once I’d finished dropping the things off I quickly winnowed us back to Azriel’s room. Azriel was clearly happy with my decision as he continued to place kisses on my head and cheeks. I wasn’t so happy.

I tried to look like I was for him but I couldn’t, part of me wanted to hit him for making me do this and the other part wanted to crawl under his sheets and lay there until I’d starved to death.

His kisses became less enthusiastic as he noticed my mood, “I’ll get you better things, Night Court things.”

That did little to comfort me.

I hated Night Court things, especially clothing. The color dulled my skin and made me look dead. It consumed me.

I missed my colorful dresses, my pink dresses mainly. I missed the color pink in general as well as red, Mor was the only one here to wear red. Which was strange to me

We sat on the bed as he let me process the fact that all my items from home, and even some from here, were now gone. The few things left of where I came from I no longer had.

I wanted to be angry, mother I wanted to be so angry at him, but I just didn’t have the energy. I felt like a part of me was taken away and he’d taken it. I reminded my self this was better than him burning all my things.

After a little bit I leaned onto him, not caring because at this point all I wanted to feel was comfort. Azriel wrapped his arms around me and settled me into his chest, giving me the comfort I so desperately wanted in this moment.

He let go of me for a minute to grab a book to read aloud to me, that minute felt like dying as he wasn’t touching me. Once he came back, I was okay.

As he read to me I pretended to listen when I was only listening to his voice, I didn’t care for the book, it was some cheesy romance novel. Which I would never read, it wasn’t the type of romance I enjoyed. I enjoyed listening to his voice.

When he wasn’t yelling at me or raising his voice, when he spoke softly to me or spoke to me like a person, his voice was so soothing. It’s weird how a voice can be so soothing yet scary.

After we were halfway through with the book and the sun was already down I could tell he was tired, he didn’t get that well of sleep the night prior and he’d already basically been awake two days straight. So I asked to go to sleep for his sake.

His eyes looked droopy as he said yes to me, he shut the book and put it on his bedside table while I laid down. He laid down as well to wrap his arms around me.

He placed a kiss by my ear, “Goodnight my pretty mate.” He told me before I felt him drifting off.

As I laid there I realized how scared I was, not of Azriel but of the bond. The bond has made me believe that I could take this, that he was my mate so it was my fate to face this. I would have never put up with this for Eris or any other man, my brothers had taught me better. They taught me better due to my mother, my mother who was murdered by our father out of anger, all because another man had looked at her. I realized that I was going to suffer the same fate as her, the fate my brothers were so scared of me facing. I knew that no matter what I did, if I completely isolated myself, got rid of my Autumn Court heritage and everything about myself Azriel didn’t like it wouldn’t matter. He’d still find a reason to be mad, he’d still find a reason to yell at me. I mean I was reading a book and he got mad? I knew this is how it started for my mother, my father would yell at her for the smallest things and then moved on to not only yelling. I knew soon it’d turn more physical than it already was. At the same time though, where else could I go? Who else did I have? I couldn’t go back to the Autumn Court in case Eris found me, he could exile me if he wanted. I didn’t want to put my brothers in danger either. I had to stay here, I didn’t have a choice.

As I laid there I convinced myself I could take it, at least until Azriel would kill me just like my father did to my mother.

I unfortunately did not get very much sleep, when I did wake up to hours after finally falling asleep it was to Azriel clinging to me. I realized right now, even with him here I felt so empty.

When Azriel noticed this through the bond he started to completely dote on me, he spent the day placing kisses along my face, reading to me and spending the while day basically holding me.

It wasn’t like I wasn’t trying either, I wanted just as badly as him to just feel something, anything. Nothing he did worked though.

Smut warning: Size kink, fingering, begging, use of the name “baby”, clothes ripping,

Around four was when he started to give up but I didn’t. As he sat on the couch clearly trying to figure out if there was anything else he could do to cheer me up before i moved to go sit chest to chest in his lap, he wrapped his arms around me as I did.

As I sat down on his lap and moved comfortably I could feel his hard-on grow from me being on his lap.

As I felt it I began thinking if it was even worth waiting to have sex with Azriel any longer. I knew it would eventually happen and no matter what I’d feel weird at first, maybe it was just me being stupid in my mindset but I really didn’t care.

“Az,” I said, him perking his head to me, “do you want to have sex with me?” I could feel his cock grow harder.

“Are you sure?” He asked me, which I nodded to. “Words (Y/N).”

“Yes.”

He picked me up to move to the two of us to his bed, basically slamming me down as he climb on top of me to give me a heated kiss. He held the side of my face as he made out with me.

He pulled away for just a second to ask, “Can I rip your dress open?” It was a simple black dress I didn’t care for, so I told him yes.

He went back to kissing me before running his hand up my curves to my neckline in order to rip my dress apart.

Due to his training he had no trouble doing this and soon my ripped up dress was thrown into some corner of the room.

His kisses quickly moved down to my neck while one of his hands groped my breasts and another my ass, sending whines out of my mouth.

Keeping the pattern from my dress he ripped my panties off, but was polite enough to just clip my bra. He sat up to look over my body, clearly admiring it. Yet it still made me to cover up with my hands, before I could move them to cover my breast he grabbed them and pushed me up into his lap. “Shit your so fucking hot baby.” He pushed me closer into his lap as he made out with me.

As he ran his hands along my curves and breasts I moved to take off his shirt, we quickly broke the kiss and he put his arms up to pull his off before we continued.

He moved his fingers down to circle my clit, causing me to whine out. “Please Az.” I felt him smirk into the kiss.

“Want me to fuck your pretty pussy with my fingers? Is that what you want baby?” I felt him slip a finger inside, “Az, yes please. Fuck.” I whined out as he pushed me back onto my back.

“Your so fucking wet.” He told me, which I nodded at.

“Please,” Something about the bond made sure he knew what I meant. He added another finger in as I moaned out at the feeling, he smirked hearing me moan and added a third finger in. Causing my head to fall back and me to continue to whine out pleas, I started begging to come.

He continued hitting the special spot inside of me until I began tightening, which when I did, he pulled out.

“Mother Az, why?” I whined out, frustrated I didn’t get my release.

Azriel looked over me to place a kiss on my mouth, “Don’t worry baby, your gonna come around my cock okay?” I nodded to him.

He pulled off his pants to let his cock spring free, once I saw it I got a little nervous. Out of the one cock I had taken, this one was bigger and I had to wonder how it would fit.

As he loomed over me, ready to stick it in he spoke, “Open up.” I opened my mouth to allow his fingers to enter my mouth all to taste myself. He watched for a second as I sucked on my own juices before pushing himself in slowly.

This stretch hurt as I moaned around his fingers. My eyes shut as I waited for him to finish putting himself in, in order to get myself adjusted to him.

Once he’d pushed himself in all the way he pulled his fingers out of my mouth, “You okay baby?” He asked me.

I knew to use my words this time, “Yes, yes I’m okay.” I whined out.

He leaned himself down to place a kiss on my forehead, “Tell me when its okay to move, okay?”

“Okay.”

I waited another minute before giving him the okay to move, I watched him stare intently as he watched my pussy take in his cock, “Fuck you take me so well.” He pushed down on the bulge my stomach had as he began to move faster.

He moved his free hand to grip my hips before moving his hand covering my stomach to do the same.

“Mm, fuck Az.” I moaned out with a string of curses, “Please Az, please fuck me harder.” I begged him.

He did, causing my back to arch allowing him to hit deeper as I whined and moaned for him, “Fuck, my good girl. My good fucking girl.” He moaned out as I nodded.

As we went on I felt myself getting close, I begged him to let me come.

“Look at how I fuck you first, okay? And don’t look away.” He strictly told me, which I obeyed. I looked down to see his cock thrusting into my pussy, I liked seeing the bulge my stomach had.

Thankfully Azriel kept his promise in letting me, I never looked away until my legs stopped shaking and he came inside of me himself.

I laid there with sticky thighs and a heavy heart rate as Azriel returned with a warm wet towel to clean off my thighs.

“You did so good baby, my pretty little mate.” I couldn’t help but smile as he said this.

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x reader smut #eris x reader #eris vanserra #Eris #eris vanserra x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #acotar x reader smut #acotar smut

73 notes · View notes

dmwrites · 2 years

Text

“Why are we having the Boatem meeting in the morning? Who on earth thought that was a good idea?” Scar, still dressed in his sleepwear of Boatem booty shorts and nothing else, asked, parked by the Boatem hole.

“Mate, I wish I knew. I’d put a stop to it.” Mumbo had set two repeaters on top of each other so he could lean against it, thinking tiredly of his unfinished redstone door he’d been working on in the night.

“I think the morning people are just more outspoken then us normal people.” Pearl said, clothes a little rumpled from building all night. She had a small vial of Zedaph’s infamous monster energy (“made from real zombies!”) in her hand and was seriously considering it, as she was struggling to remember the last time she’d slept. Scar and Mumbo grumbled in discontent at the mention of the morning people.

“Good morning Boatem!” Impulse strode over from his factory, a cup of coffee in his hand and a smile on his face.

Grian fluttered down to perch on top of the Boatem pole, looking down at the three tired hermits. “What’s up with you guys?” He asked.

“Gri, it’s eight in the morning. I would be going to bed right now.” Pearl said, yawning. Mumbo and Scar had fallen asleep. Grian snorted and jumped to the ground, hitting both of them on the back of the head with the hermitcraft newspaper.

“Well, it’s your own fault for staying up so late. Mumbo! You’re supposed to be CEO, a shining example to the rest of us! What says you? Have any company news to report?”

Mumbo glared at Grian, then turned defiantly to Impulse. “Hey, Impulse, why don’t you tell us about your perfectly tailored morning routine, so we can all know how to become morning people like you.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you asked!” Impulse beamed, adjusting his hat. “Well, of course I woke up a little after sunrise, thanks to Grian! Then I always go right to a workout. Now with workouts you know you can’t just do the same thing every time- it’s about a varied routine, or else you-”

“I knew we made you CEO for some reason.” Scar muttered, already half-asleep again.

“Guys, please, you can’t just distract Impulse and think you’re getting out of this meeting.” Grian said, crossing his arms at the three of them.

“So Gri are you like Impulse’s rooster or something? You literally wake him up in the morning, that’s hilarious.” Pearl spoke up, over Impulse’s ramblings.

Grian puffed up at once. “Excuse me, I am not a chicken! And certainly no one’s alarm clock!”

“Well, I mean, technically, you’re kind of like my alarm clock!” Impulse patted Grian on the head. “You’re a good alarm clock.”

“I am not an alarm clock!” Grian was indignant, practically to the point of anger. At once the two were in a debate, both too stubborn to admit the other was right.

“Pearl, you’re a proper genius.” Mumbo said in relief. “How long do you think we have until they realize we’re gone?”

“I’d say half an hour at least.” Pearl replied. She set out a cozy blanket a bit back from the fight and the Boatem hole, and helped Scar onto it. Mumbo collapsed next to him, and Pearl lay to one side.

“The bairme joe demands more sacrifels,” Scar mumbled in his sleep.

“What did he say?” Pearl asked, but her eyes were closed already.

“Who knows.” Mumbo answered, and he was asleep within seconds. Pearl wasn’t long after, and the morning air, combined with a bit of that weird stale air that came from within the Boatem Hole, played sweetly over their faces. It wasn’t the most productive Boatem meeting, but then again, when had a meeting actually been productive?

#August 6 2022 #fic #hc8 #boatem #I MISS THEM SO MUCH #long post

138 notes · View notes

ginnyrules27 · 1 year

Text

Alright ya’ll, people asked to read this so here you go! The short story that I wrote (for a grade mind you) that after researching to make sure I was being authentic (as I am half Irish on my father’s side and I’d done a historical short story about my heritage on my mom’s side the previous year), my professor gave me an ‘F’ and called me ‘racist’. Killed any want or need to write for the rest of the year too--had I not worked at Disney and discovered Descendants, the Choosing series might never have been born.

You hear that Professor? You almost killed one of my popular fanfiction series before I even knew it’d be a thing!

As I said before, concrit is welcomed -- just be gentle! I literally wrote this the night before it was due so I know there’re some issues :D

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

A Day In 1897

Erin sighed as she shifted into her chair. Liam’s letter said that he would be home around nine, however the chimes from the town clock signaling nine o’clock had come and gone, and yet Liam still wasn’t home. The other lodgers who shared the tenement with them had fallen asleep hours ago, shifting on the makeshift mattresses of straw and blankets to make the stone floor a little more comfortable.

As the town clock struck twelve, the door opened with a loud creak; something that Erin feared would wake the others. However, they just turned in their sleep—oblivious to the world around them.

“Welcome home Liam,” Erin whispered, putting a hand in front of her mouth to prevent a yawn from escaping. She tired easily now that she was well into her ninth month of pregnancy in addition to the long hours she had spent during the previous day to make the room look decent for Liam’s arrival. Liam, it seemed, was just as tired as she was but he hid it better than she did; straightening up and engulfing Erin into a big warm hug that she’d missed these past five months.

“How’s the baby?” she heard him mumble as she felt the pressure of his chin on her shoulder. Erin could hear the worry in his voice and she couldn’t blame him. This was their third try for a child, Erin being unable to carry to term twice before. She didn’t know how losing this child would affect Liam.

“The baby’s fine,” Erin whispered in response, handing Liam a threadbare pillow to put behind his back. She turned to light their only candle and longed for the luxury of a gas lantern. “We both are, don’t worry about us. You need rest. What did you do this time? Canal building? Farming?”

“Building a sewer drain down in Brooklyn,” she heard his faint reply and sighed. Liam was working himself to death in order to provide for his family. Erin honestly didn’t know how much more Liam could take. Every time she saw him, he seemed more and more drained and withdrawn. His once thick brown hair was thinning rapidly and graying around the temples. His face was now marred with lines in the corner of his eyes and by his lips, making his face appear more like a well-worn book with the corners folded over.

“Liam, this needs to stop,” Erin knelt down as best she could next to Liam, using the arm of his chair as support. “Your body can’t take much more of this.”

“It’s not for long, Erin,” Liam muttered, his eyes fighting to stay open with every passing minute. He shifted slightly in his seat. “Just until I’ve saved up enough for us to get out of this city and move out west.”

Erin slowly got up from her position, wincing as her ankles called out in agony. Liam always claimed that they wouldn’t be in New York for long but the jobs he worked barely gave them enough to gather food. Erin couldn’t imagine being able to pay for one train ticket let alone three!

Lost in thought, Erin didn’t even notice when she jostled the tin of sewing supplies on the table. The clattering of sewing needles, thread and thimbles across the wooden table brought her back to reality and she quickly gathered them up and put them back into the tin.

The blue and white tin was a gift from her mother on her wedding day and the only reason they hadn’t pawned it off was because Liam wouldn’t let her. He had insisted that earning the household funds was his responsibility and that it wasn’t fair to her to deal with the uncertainty.

Turning to Liam, Erin felt a soft smile grace her lips as she saw the sight of him sleeping in his chair, his chin drooped down onto his chest and the soft snores filled the room with a melody better than any form of music Erin could think of. Bringing a blanket and draping it over him, Erin curled up in a chair of her own. Looking over the despondent room, her eyes rested on the sewing supplies as she too lost her battle with consciousness.

The next day, Erin awoke to a house full of women and small children. The men had already left to try to get jobs in the city, a ritual that was becoming almost routine. Erin got up slowly, wincing as a spasm of pain ran through her lower back. Shrugging it off as a side effect of the odd position she’d slept in the night before, Erin managed to get up.

“Good morning, dear,” an older woman noticed her and smiled as she dished some leftover colcannon from the icebox. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay up in time to welcome Liam.”

“That’s quite alright, Eithne,” Erin returned the smile as she waddled over to the communal table where all the other women were gathered, along with some of the smaller children who were unable to go out to try to get small jobs of their own. The room felt warmer than usual, even with the front door open to allow for some air to enter. Even the air felt heavy, as if an invisible weight was pressing down with all its might.

“Did he get home alright?” a younger woman asked, her blue eyes shining with curiosity. “The city’s awfully dangerous at night.”

“He didn’t get home until midnight Siobhán. Even criminals need to sleep,” Erin sighed, catching herself before she tripped over the uneven floor. As another woman guided her to a seat, Erin accepted the dish of food from Eithne. Lately, the only thing she could really stomach was colcannon—and thankfully, the main ingredients of potatoes, cabbage, and butter made it budget-friendly. “I hope he finds a job soon. I’m worried about him.”

“He’ll be fine,” Siobhán told her with a smile, rubbing her own belly. “I’m surprised he’s gone back out. He only just got back.”

“Liam probably wants to get a head start,” Erin told her, digging into her meal. “After all, several jobs have become available. It said so in the papers that the economy is improving since that episode in 1893.”

“Did you hear about Commissioner Roosevelt? Apparently he tried to get on the National Republican ticket!”

“Again?” Erin chuckled. “Well, he’s stubborn, I’ll give him that. At least he’s doing some good for the police department. At least now police officers can’t bribe their way to the top anymore.”

““Roosevelt’s made some powerful enemies though,” Siobhán remarked, picking up one of the young children who was attempting to climb onto the table. “Closing the saloon on Sundays for one. My cousin Niall told me that most of the coppers nearly revolted after hearing about that.”

“Well, they’ll just have to get used to it,” Eithne told them as she began mending a pair of trousers at the table. All the women did some form of mending to earn money while the men went out to search for jobs. It was needed, and if Erin was honest, it was fun to help provide for the household in some way. “By the looks of it, Roosevelt’s not going anywhere. But enough of this. It’s not for young children to hear.”

She was right, as she often was, but that didn’t stop the disappointed mutters coming from the younger women. Erin sighed and finished her plate of Colcannon before getting up to clean off her dish. The room was small enough—it wouldn’t do to make it smaller with clutter. As she tided up, her thoughts strayed to Liam. She hadn’t been able to greet him with his favorite meal when he came home, but being one day late wouldn’t make a difference would it?

“I’m going to the market,” she announced, startling the others. “Does anyone want to join me?”

“Are you sure, dear?” Eithne inquired. “A woman in your condition shouldn’t travel.”

“I’ve gone to market before,” Erin reminded the older woman. “I won’t be long. Just a trip to the butcher and maybe the grocer.”

“If you’re sure, dear,” Eithne frowned, but turned to prevent one of the children from falling off a chair. Erin sighed. She straightened up her dress, fixed her hair, and grabbed a nearby basket along with some cash from a tin before heading out into the oppressive summer heat.

The city bustled with movement as Erin walked through the dark streets of the tenements. She hated living there, but she certainly preferred it to living on the streets. The butcher’s was a few blocks from where she lived so Erin had a bit of a walk before reaching it, having to stop twice to catch her breath and rub her still aching back.

In all honestly, she didn’t mind. Unlike Liam, who yearned for the wide-open world of the western United States, she preferred the hustle and bustle of New York City. She just wished she could live in an area of the city with a little more room.

“Hello, Ronan,” Erin called upon entering the butcher’s shop. It was a small store with very little light and the constant smell of meat. Every wall seemed to have some manner of meat hanging from a rack behind the counter; allowing for a small amount of floor space for customers in front of the counter. “Have you any good sales today?”

“Aye,” Ronan nodded, looking up from his paper to smile at the smaller woman. “Hello deirfiúr.”

“Brother!”

“Ah, a brother can’t greet his sister the way he’s been doing it for twelve years without a reprimand?” Ronan chortled at the faux-peeved look on Erin’s face. “What can I do you for, Erin?”

“Do you have any pork sausage or pig’s totters?”

“Liam get a job?” he asked, looking surprised. “Normally, you tend to avoid the pricy stuff.”

“No, Liam’s still looking,” Erin sighed. “I was just thinking I’d make him a good meal tonight since I couldn’t last night.”

Ronan shook his head in amusement. “Well, at least he’s still looking. If I was in his shoes, I’d given up by now.”

“Well, thank goodness you’re not Liam,” Erin stated, her voice stilted at the implied insult. “Now, about the meat?”

“Sorry, Erin,” Ronan sighed. “But the meat’s too expensive, and I’m not going to be the one to put stress on you now.”

“Please?” she begged. “I’d love to make Liam a good meal for once.”

She thought for a moment, looking around the shop. While she knew her brother would do anything for her, she wasn’t going to be the one to take advantage of their relationship to get cheaper meat.

“If pork sausage and pig’s totters are too expensive, then do you have some pig’s blood?” Erin asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Aye, that I can sell you,” Ronan smiled. “Going to make some black pudding?”

“It might be the one thing to make him happy,” Erin smiled, paid for the item and bid her brother farewell. She thankfully had the barley and seasoning at home, and so made her way back as quickly as she could, which wasn’t that quick, considering she was nearing her time. Her swollen ankles made the short walk seem unbearable. Sweating from the heat, Erin got back and stopped in the doorway and placed her hands on her hips as she tried to catch her breath, wincing as a spasm of pain ran through her body again.

“Tired, dear?” Eithne asked as she picked up her mending from the table to make room for the items. “I told you a woman in your condition shouldn’t travel.”

“Yes, Eithne,” Erin nodded. “But I was able to get a special treat that I’ll make for Liam tonight.”

“Oh, what is it?” Siobhán asked as she got up from her seat, one hand on her belly to balance herself, to offer the seat to Erin. Despite the similar appearances in belly size, Erin was farther along than Siobhán.

“Pig’s blood,” Erin said, taking the offered seat. “I’m planning on making a black pudding for dinner tonight!”

That caused the entire room to gasp in excitement. The last time they’d had something like that was back when Liam first got the job that took him away for five months.

“Do you need help?” a young child asked, eager to be included in the process. A sharp pang along her side stopped Erin from answering as she gasped in pain. The pang was sharper than the ones she had been feeling all day. The damp feeling running down her legs and trickling down to the floor ensured her assumption that it was indeed time for her child to enter the world.

“Erin!” Eithne exclaimed in shock, but then settled as she realized what was happening. Looking down, she addressed the child who asked if he could aid in dinner preparations. “Senan, I need you to go run and get Liam. He’ll be with your father this time.”

The young child nodded and ran out the door as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. Eithne then looked over at the eldest girl in the room and began to address her.

“Niamh, you’re in charge of all the younger children. Make sure they don’t get underfoot.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded, her braided brown hair slapping her in the face as she did so. Ushering the children into the other side of the room, Niamh couldn’t help but notice the other women putting sheets up to hide the sight from the children.

“Siobhán, get a pot of hot water! Saoirse, you need to go get towels!” Eithne commanded. Despite being in the country the longest, hints of her Irish accent could be heard when she was upset, rattled or focused. “It’s alright, Erin. God wants you to have this baby now.”

Erin nodded, sweat matting her brown hair to her head, and she shut her eyes as a wave of pain passed over her. “Oh cac!” she cried as the pain intensified.

“Erin!” Eithne scolded. “Language!”

Erin didn’t respond, but instead focused on breathing as Siobhán showed her. Having given birth to five healthy children, Erin figured the woman knew what she was doing. A crash resonated through the room as Liam bounded through the door.

“Erin!”

“I’m fine!” Erin gasped out, clutching Siobhán’s hand for dear life. Sweat matted her hair and the heat from the day seemed almost overpowering. The pain seemed to get closer and closer together with each spasm. Liam, Erin assumed, had either gone to wait with the children or was out in the hall.

“Do you want me to send Liam out to get a midwife?” Siobhán asked, her own face glistening with sweat.

“There’s no time,” Eithne responded, coming up from monitoring Erin’s progress. “Erin, you need to push now.”

Erin began pushing, her face changing colors from the pale it had been to a bright red. Tears began mingling with the dried sweat, running down her mouth to allow Erin the taste of salt on occasion. However, a painful sensation unlike the one she was experiencing gave her pause.

“What happened?” she gasped, her voice no higher than a whisper.

“You just have a little tear dear,” Eithne told her, not looking up from watching the progress. She turned to whisper something to Siobhán, who nodded and ran off behind the sheet. “Lay your head back down, Erin. You need to relax.”

That was easier said than done, Erin thought bitterly. But the thought quickly left her thoughts as another strain ran through her body.

“Push, Erin!” Siobhán encouraged her, returning from the task Eithne had given her. Erin resumed pushing, the sweat returning to her face as her wet dress stuck to her body like a stamp on parchment. After several more pushes, the sensations stopped and the room quieted. Out of the corner of her eye, Erin could see a small bundle in Siobhán’s arms.

But if that’s the baby, Erin thought, then why isn’t it crying? That’s what babies do right?

After all, all five of Siobhán’s children had cried when they arrived into the world.

“What’s wrong?” Erin asked. “What’s wrong with my baby?”

None of the women made to answer as panic enveloped Erin like a blanket. Was the baby mute? Feeble-minded? Was it deformed somehow?

“Erin…” Siobhán began to speak but stopped as tiny whimpers started to form from the bundle and a smile appeared on her face. “Your child’s fine.”

Erin’s shoulders slumped in peace. The baby was fine. After two failed and painful pregnancies, here was proof that she was a good woman. A good wife.

“Let me stitch you up, dear,” Eithne said softly as Saoirse handed her Erin’s blue and white sewing tin. Erin didn’t even notice each prick of the needle as it passed through her skin. All she knew, lying there covered in sweat and blood, was that she was finally a mother.

After it was finished, Siobhán placed the baby in her mother’s arms. “Congratulations Erin. It’s a girl.”

Eithne, it seemed, had left the room as she re-entered with Liam in tow, who rushed to the side of his wife and new daughter.

“What do you want to name her?” Erin whispered, panting softly and struggling to keep her eyes open as she looked at her husband.

“I was thinking we could name her after your mam,” Liam said. “Nora Cleary has a good ring to it.”

“I like it,” Erin smiled and relaxed as she continued to hold her new child—the newest edition to their family.

#not fanfic related #short story

17 notes · View notes

lesbicosmos · 11 months

Text

day 7 of @chrisginnyweek !!

day 7 prompt: together

my interpretation: fluff. just pure fluff.

summary: the day after the play chris and ginny decide to go for a walk in the snow together

on ao3!!

i'll crawl home to her

“I always forget how pretty the snow is,” said Chris, her smile as sparkling as the apparent winter wonderland that surrounded them.

“Yeah, it really looks like something out of a fairy-tale,” replied Ginny, looking around.

It was the day after the performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream (and the evening the girls had spent in the forest with Neil and his friends) and they had decided to go for a walk in the park and enjoy the gorgeous wintry weather. The snow had fallen even more overnight, so the park they always went to was covered in a thick blanket of gleaming white, reflecting all light that hit it and making the surroundings glow. The trees looked like something from a painting, and it made Ginny wish she had brought her camera with her to capture the moment.

There were very few people outside due to the below freezing temperatures, so the two of them were comfortably walking through the park hand in hand. Well, they could barely feel the other’s hand due to the thick gloves they were both wearing, but the idea was there. The lower half of Ginny’s face was covered by a thick light blue knitted scarf, which Chris had definitely not laughed at when she first saw her wearing it. Chris didn’t have a scarf; the fur on the inside of her brown coat seemed to be doing a good enough job at keeping her warm.

“You know,” Ginny sighed softly, her breath visible in front of her as she exhaled. “I originally felt bad turning Neil down on his offer to go somewhere with him and his friends today, but as much as I love him, I’d rather be here with you. Just you.” She turned her head so she and Chris locked eyes for a moment.

“Really? You know I wouldn’t mind hanging out with those guys instead if you wanted to go and meet them.”

“No, I mean it.” Ginny squeezed Chris’s hand. “I love spending time with you. Besides, I think we had enough of the boys last night with their cave poetry.”

Chris laughed, shaking her head slightly in amusement. “Yeah, that was pure chaos. Todd’s poem was really good though!”

“It was, actually. Did you see Neil’s face as he read it, though? That boy is smitten, I swear.”

“Literally. That cave was so dark, but I could just sense the pining.”

They both knew that was a bit hypocritical given the two of them had been pining after one another for months before finally admitting their feelings. Ginny had probably spent more time staring at Chris with a lovestruck glint in her eyes than she’d spent looking at her any other way.

Ginny hadn’t noticed she’d zoned out, she was too busy thinking about all the time she had spent worrying alone in her room that Chris might never feel the same way she did about her, that she might not want to be friends anymore if she ever found out. She knew that realistically that would never happen - Chris was probably the least prejudiced person she knew - but there was always that dark part of her mind that kept asking what if?

She was pulled out of her imagination by Chris’s voice, but she was further away than Ginny remembered her being.

“Hey, Gin!” she called.

Ginny didn’t even have chance to fully turn around or reply before she was hit in the chest with a snowball, stepping backwards with the impact. She hadn’t noticed Chris had stepped off the path and onto the grass and was busying herself with the snow, apparently collecting ammunition.

“Hey!” Ginny replied, crouching down to make her own snowball to throw back at her girlfriend.

Chris shrieked as Ginny hurled it at her, but just managed to dodge it.

“Ha!"

What was originally a playful moment eventually escalated into a full-blown snowball fight, the two girls constantly picking up snow to toss at one another, giggling away to themselves like schoolchildren. It was the first time in a while that they’d been able to just let go and enjoy themselves, and both of them were loving it.

However, in trying to throw a rather large clump of snow at Ginny, Chris lost her balance and fell over, landing on her back.

“Ow…” she groaned as Ginny walked over to her, laughing.

Ginny stood next to her, looking down. “You know, for someone who ice skates you really do have the worst balance sometimes,” she teased.

Chris scoffed, faux-offended.

“I’ll show you bad balance.”

Within a second, Chris had reached up, took both ends of Ginny’s scarf in her hands and pulled her down so that she fell practically on top of her. Their noses crashed together, leaving their lips barely even an inch apart. Chris pulled the scarf again, bringing their mouths together. The feeling of their lips on each other’s was comforting and warm compared to the crisp, cold air surrounding them, and it made both of them never want to move…for about thirty seconds, at least.

“Wanna go home?” Ginny asked. “I’d love to keep doing this, but someone will see us eventually. And also my hands are numb, even with the gloves.”

“Yeah. This was so fun, but I don’t think I’m gonna be able to feel my feet for much longer.”

Ginny rolled off Chris and slowly stood up, regaining her balance.

“Come on,” she said, offering her hand out to Chris to help her up.

She took it, and they continued to hold hands all the way back to Ginny’s house. They walked even closer together than they had before, desperate for the warmth of the other.

When they entered Ginny’s house, they both wordlessly went up to her room to change out of their cold, wet clothes and into their pyjamas. Within ten minutes, they were sat on the couch in the living room, curled up together with a blanket and hot chocolates. Their legs gradually tangled together beneath the covers until eventually it became difficult to tell whose limbs were whose. Chris was lying with her head on Ginny’s shoulder, both hands on her mug of hot chocolate, and Ginny had one hand carding through short blonde hair while the other was busy propping a book open on her lap.

“What are you reading?” Chris asked after taking a sip of her drink.

“The Poems of Emily Dickinson, it’s an anthology of all her works. Neil bought it for me.”

Neil and Ginny had both bought each other presents for the night of the play. Neil had found the poetry book in one of the local bookstores and bought it, knowing Ginny had once borrowed a different Dickinson collection from the library and loved it.

“She writes about women the way you talk about Chris,” he’d sad after she’d opened it, and Ginny felt a a wave of joy wash over her, so intense she nearly forgot to give Neil his own gift.

Ginny hadn’t known what to get him so had decided on something with more sentimental value instead – she’d torn out the page of her A Midsummer Night’s Dream script that featured Puck’s final monologue and framed it for him. He got really excited after opening it, saying it was going to go up on the wall in his and Todd’s dorm, right next to the original auditions poster and a collection of photos of himself and the other poets with the Polaroid camera Meeks got for his last birthday.

Ginny had been far too tired to start reading the night before, and had only flicked through and marked the ones she remembered were her favourites by folding the corner of the page, but curled up under a blanket with Chris had felt like the perfect moment to get inside the head of a 19th century woman who had a way with words about life, death, nature and women.

“Read one to me,” Chris said, tucking her head further into the crook of Ginny’s neck and getting somehow even more comfortable.

Ginny seemed to hum in contemplation, flicking through her book, finally turning to a page that she’d folded the corner of and reading:

“To see her is a Picture,

To hear her is a Tune,

To know her an Intemperance

As innocent as June

To know her not – Affliction,

To own her for a Friend

A warmth as near as if the Sun

Were shining in your Hand.”

“It’s beautiful,” Chris said quietly. “Read another.”

And so Ginny did. She read Chris her favourite Dickinson poems, all the ones where she talked most beautifully about a woman – her best friend, but also clearly something more. She had just finished reciting Sue – forevermore! when she noticed Chris had fallen asleep on her shoulder. She laughed quietly to herself, then took the mug from Chris’s hands and placed it and her book on the small table beside her. She leaned down to press a soft kiss to Chris’s head before getting comfier herself, following her girlfriend into a warm, restful sleep on the couch.

#guys can u tell i like emily dickinson #also how is it the last day of chrisginny week already :((#this was so fun <3 #dps #dead poets society #dps fandom #dps fanfic #chris noel #ginny danburry #chrisginny #chrisginnyweek

9 notes · View notes

amrv-5 · 1 year

Note

(this is also just one of my fave parts 😭) :

“Yeah,” BJ said, wishing again that Hawkeye would toss him a pair of boxers or a burlap sack or something. The desire only made him feel worse. He hadn’t been embarrassed in front of Hawkeye in years. “I’m sorry. Weird day.”

“Yeah,” Hawkeye agreed, rubbing his back. “Lots to deal with. Um—”

“What?” BJ asked, slowly relaxing into the feeling of Hawkeye’s hand on his lower back.

“Did I upset you somehow? I don’t really understand what, uh, what, what this afternoon was about, I think.”

“I’m just—I’m an idiot,” BJ said, stating it to the cool dark of his closed eyes, muffled into the blanket. “It’s not you. I’m just ridiculous.”

Hawkeye kept rubbing his back. “Sometimes. But not half as ridiculous as I am. Frankly I’d be glad to have competition for once.”

OOOGHHH thank you I also loved writing this little bit LMAO. answer below the cut and THANK YOU for the ask ughhhh them. them. okay

ohhh okay this lil part ohhhhh. I wasn't even thinking anything too complex except for trying to figure out how BJ and Hawkeye would communicate 20 years down the line.

I mostly wanted to show that they could still disagree and have misunderstandings while also knowing and trusting each other well enough to know they can communicate anything.

BJ's dealing with an emotion that both feels terrible and one he knows isn't all the way rational, and he's embarrassed to be feeling bad about something he knows Hawkeye doesn't really care about, which I think with show-era Beej is prime Angry Spiral territory. This is usually where he'd get snippy enough at an earnestly-trying-to-help Hawkeye that they'd set off a different, worse fight, and probably misunderstand each other all over again.

But! After literally decades, I really wanted to show that they're at a point with each other where BJ can accept a negative emotion, work through it, and then let Hawkeye in to reassure him.

And flipside Hawkeye knows how to help BJ out, and also how to help him open up gently without demanding, where earlier I think me might have seen him really try to prod BJ over an issue he wasn't willing to really open up about. IDK mostly I just wanted them to be Tender and Domestic and understanding of each other. They're familiar -- BJ defaulting to mild reticence in the face of pain and embarrassment, while Hawkeye makes a bedside-manner joke to cheer him up -- but they genuinely just click and get each other. ouuuuughhh. THEM. that's all that's it. THEM.

#ask game #THANK YOU!!!! no thoughts head empty only domestic bejhawk tbh

8 notes · View notes

bisexualchrissycunningham · 1 year

Note

Let’s talk about what hellcheer and stali’s idea Valentines Days look like.

I think both Eddie and Chrissy’s v-day is a lot more low-key than some might assume because they’re always relatively affectionate and open with each other about how in love they are so I’d imagine they aren’t as ostentatious as some other couples. Stali? Complete opposite. They both go all out for one another. May or may not include pyrotechnics in their v-day festivities.

Excellent question, anon!

I think you're right on both fronts. Eddie and Chrissy would be very low-key about Valentine's Day. Eddie was probably the guy who railed against how commercial it was before Chrissy, then the first time she softly says, "Actually, I think it can be really romantic…" he instantly starts making elaborate plans and picks fights with whatever friends might accuse him of selling out (I'm thinking our beloved unnamed Corroded Coffin member!) She makes sure he keeps it small and intimate though, starting with a home cooked meal - he cooks for her, she makes dessert. They'd exchange mixtapes and homemade cards with little "Free Hug/Bubble Bath/Weird Kinky Sex" coupons inside cause they're corny like that. They'd end the night with some very intense emotional sex.

For Steve and Kali.. hoo boy. For their first Valentine's Day, Steve would buy out Melvad's entire stock of decorations and chocolates (ok, Joyce would actually put a limit on his purchase but it would still be way too much) and decorate his entire house with all the hearts and at least 2 giant stuffed bears carrying boxes of chocolate hearts. This would be before taking her to Enzo's, for a reservation he had in place six months beforehand. He would have wanted to plan for after dinner too but Kali insisted that was her part.

Assuming Kali has reached a point where she can be fairly vulnerable with Steve (I think that would be her biggest hurdle in the relationship), I think she would go waaay overboard creating an illusion for them both, maybe of a place Steve has talked about wanting to visit with her (maybe her home in London, maybe Tuscany or some tropical beach somewhere). She will have practiced sustaining it beforehand but it still exhausts her to the point she passes out and sleeps for like 14 hours. Steve of course goes into a full-blown panic, getting Dr. Owens on the phone and demanding he fly to Hawkins. Once the doc got the story of what happened out of him, he would assure him she just overtaxed herself and needed the rest.

He would be prepared with her favorite food, water, warm blankets, cold compresses, literally anything she could possibly need upon waking up.

The next year, Steve buys fancy fireworks and burns himself trying to spell her name with them.

Injuring themselves in the name of grandiose displays of love clearly becomes their thing.

#hellcheer #stali #eddie x chrissy #steve x kali #hellcheer headcanons #stali headcanons #answered

18 notes · View notes

cyberrat · 1 year

Text

66th Batch Of Fics: 13th Fill

Gabriel/Jack – Part ½ – bottoming for the first time twice; soldiers in love; bottom!Gabriel – How Jack deflowered Gabriel for the first time.

---

WHEN HE WAS HUMAN

Gabriel digs his teeth into the pillow, eyes clenched shut. He has to focus on not making any sound but it becomes increasingly more difficult the more Jack insists to push his tongue into him again and again. He’s been at it for… he doesn’t know how long. But it is driving him insane. His skin is crawling in the best way possible. He’s started pulling his knees up on both sides, assisted by Jack’s hands eagerly pushing and he’s now lying in an awkward frog position.

It’s embarrassing… but it opens him up so wide for Jack to stuff his face into his ass and tongue fuck his hole until even Gabriel can feel how soft and ready his muscles have become.

Ready to spread around Jack’s dick. The thought makes him short of breath.

Jack somehow constantly talking doesn’t make it any better.

“Fuck, you look so hot… can’t believe nobody ever got to have you like this… shit, Gabe-” He cuts himself off. Gabriel groans into the pillow. He tries to tell him to stop messing around and just get on with it, but he can’t get a word out. His cock is pulsing against the bedding, hard and desperate. He feels like there is moisture beading on the tip and his suspicion is confirmed when Jack decides to dip down and swipe his tongue over it to lap it up.

Gabriel nearly jumps out of his goddamn skin. Jack has to press his forearm over the small of his back and pin him down, a constant crooning stream of encouragement coming forth.

“That’s it… damn, you’re sensitive… if the other guys knew about it, I’d have to fight tooth and nail, you know that? They’re already looking at your fat ass when we shower. They want you so badly… but you wouldn’t give it up for them, right? Only for me.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer; instead he shoves two fingers into Gabriel all of a sudden, making him cry out roughly as his tense body surges to life. He feels like something is going to snap if Jack presses just a bit harder or moves his fingers back-and-forth just a bit faster. His heart is pumping faster than it does during the testing phases when they have them run on the treadmills until they collapse.

“J-Jack-” he somehow manages to unclench a hand from the now badly abused pillow and reaches back, curling his fingers in a tight claw around Jack’s forearm. He can’t get out more. His brain feels swollen in his head. He’s unable to keep from moving his hips; they have a mind of their own, awkwardly rutting down against the bed until the little bit of stimulation he can get from that is starting to make him insane.

Jack mutters something but he can’t make it out over the rush of blood in his ears. He does pull out his fingers, though, and instead crawls to blanket Gabriel’s body with his own. His cock slots into Gabriel’s crack. It feels hotter than should be possible. And bigger. Gabriel had seen Jack’s dick a thousand times but right now it feels like that thing won’t ever fit inside him, no matter how much he licked him open and played with his hole until it was nice and soft and so, so ready to get filled.

He wants to say as much but all that comes out is a low, slutty groan.

Jack echoes it, hips grinding against Gabriel’s plush ass and lips dragging against the back of his shoulder.

“Can’t believe this… fuck… th-thank you.”

Gabriel flushes at the words but he doesn’t have it in him to tell Jack to shut the fuck up and stop being so damn sappy. It’s nice to feel so appreciated. It’s even better to know that he’s got Jack at his back… quite literally.

He’s blanketing him, slick skin dragging against skin while he moves his hips until his dick is nosing up to Gabriel’s hole. He closes his eyes and relaxes into it, arching his ass back to ease the slide into him. The pressure becomes more and more, body growing taut as the anticipation rises and the moment which he intellectually knows must be very short, just drags on and on until finally Jack’s crown pops into him and the tension releases in favor of a flood of warmth and euphoria.

They both exhale roughly. For once, Jack doesn’t say anything sappy and just enjoys the moment with Gabriel as he pushes in and in and in until his hips are flush against Gabe’s ass and nothing more can be fed into his overheating body.

“There you go,” Jack whispers. He sounds a bit out of breath already. Somehow, from somewhere, he unearths a blanket which he drags over the both of them, shutting in their body heat until Gabriel feels like he is in a furnace.

He closes his eyes and just feels as Jack begins to move; a nice, slow rocking motion, fucking Gabriel on just a couple inches of his cock to let him get used to the alien feeling of it all. Gabriel’s toes are tingling. His fingertips are, too. The tension that had spectacularly released once the fattest part of Jack’s cock had made it past his tight rim, is slowly starting to build up again.

“Fuck… Jack-” He presses his face briefly into the pillow because for some reason it feels like he can breathe easier then. When he twists his head to the side again he just breathes another ‘fuck’.

Jack doesn’t respond other than pressing lazy kisses against Gabriel’s shoulders and the back of his neck. The heat underneath the blanket is insane but also comforting. It narrows their little world down to a pinpoint so clear and sharp that it is almost physically painful.

Gabriel is restless but there’s nowhere to push that energy when Jack is lying on top of him and pressing him down into the bed all while filling him over and over with cock.

His own dick is awkwardly trapped against the bed, the tip horribly sensitive after Jack decided to treat himself to a little taste… His stomach feels even hotter than the air trapped inside their blanket cocoon and his muscles ache the harder they clench in the orgasm that he can feel coming on.

Jack presses his forehead against his nape and breathes harshly. For all Gabriel knows, he is just fully focusing on the feeling of Gabriel’s body and how he is still clenching down on him like his life depends on it.

He hadn’t really expected his first time bottoming to be this intense and… intimate. He doesn’t know what he thought it would be. Certainly not that Jack would be able to make him feel this way. This important and… for lack of a better word, precious.Ugh… he’s getting so damn sentimental but fuck it feels so good. He can tell that he’s getting addicted to the feeling of being filled. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

#cyberratting writes stuff #soldier76/reaper #reaper76 #r76 #deflowering #virginity kink

19 notes · View notes

binaryeclipse · 2 years

Note

tell us about your Star Trek boys for the ask game

Hi Honey, thanks for giving me the opportunity to spread the gospel of AOS!Mckirk 💖

002 | Send me a ship and I will tell you:

When I started shipping them: My dad dragged me kicking and screaming to Star Trek Beyond in theatres for his birthday and I came out a fan of the series. But I started out shipping Spirk at first because it's Star Trek and Spirk is the name of the game.

But then I read one gen fic, where Jim is stuck on the planet and he can only receive messages and the person who keeps sending their thoughts out to the planet, not knowing if they'd be heard, is Bones. And it completely shifted my perspective and changed the course of everything. My third eye was opened.

My thoughts: It's about two people who meet at the lowest points of their lives, look at each other, and basically imprint like ducklings. They both have trauma (Jim's are grand horrifying events, Leonard's are private everyday human tragedies) and they're picking themselves up and they see each other at their worst and see value there. They see the person behind the armour they both constructed. They choose each other time and again. Bones goes into space, his greatest fear, to remain at Jim's side. Bones was Jim's second champion after Pike but he was the one who was always by his side, even before Spock. Bones risked his career to take his safety blanket with him into Space when Jim got suspended and ended up saving the galaxy with that selfish choice.

If Obikin is my grand and mythic OTP, McKirk is my human one.

What makes me happy about them: I love that Jim is a literal human ray of sunshine that is also dtf (down to fight/fuck) and has this dark gritty core to him... and Bones is the exact opposite. Bones is the friendliest misanthrope to ever walk the earth. He's thorns and sharp one liners and the tenderest heart. He's a BITCH. They are both such massive bitches. They both believe so much in humanity in their own little way and they both project very specific characteristics to the world to protect themselves. They can remove their armour in each other's presence.

What makes me sad about them: That they both suffered so much over their lives. But Starfleet saved them.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: If you have Jim using pet names. Jim only calls Leonard 'Bones', capisce? (and his actual name for very serious moments, maybe)

Things I look for in fanfic: The ✨banter✨

My wishlist: I WANT A FOURTH MOVIE THAT FOCUSES ON THEIR RELATIONSHIP THE WAY BEYOND FOCUSED ON SPOCK AND BONES PLEASE

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: [dramatic sigh] I mean, Jim can end up in a polycule with Spock and Nyota like his biggest non-Bones-related wet dream come true. And Bones... I don't know if there's anyone I ship him with asides from Jim but I can definitely see him sowing his wild oats. Man has big southern daddy vibes. He'll take good care of you for a night 😏

My happily ever after for them: I want them to have fulfilling careers in Starfleet before they retire to Georgia so Bones can finally rest. The command crew visits them every year for the holidays.

#ask game

4 notes · View notes

jackofmanytf2 · 2 years

Text

Granary Guerrillas

About five hours north of Teufort, my Red employers have a big grain operation. Big silos, shipping containers, storage for shipping containers... It's a big place with a lot of tile floor, a lot of equipment that needs upkeep (and a lot of it is below Mr. Conagher's pay-grade, I don't mind admitting), and a surprising number of glass windows. It's one of the places where, with the long commute and the work itself, I don't have time for my other jobs, so the Red people give me advance notice, a generous stipend for petrol, and hours double. I would break about even, but one of my jobs in Teufort let me go after I told them I'd be out of town for over a week. Apparently, I should have told them thirty days ago if I wanted my time unavailable to make the schedule. I wished them luck in filling the position-- I don't know anybody willing (or able) to work those hours, at those wages, who are also able to reliably plan their lives thirty days in advance.

I'll be alright. I'll pick up extra shifts at another job or just find another one. There's always work out there...

Right next door to our grain facility is the rival Blue grain facility; equally big. I try not to have any opinions on this situation between the two companies. At the very least, they pay well and the mercs don't have to walk very far to kill each other. Of course, that means that even despite the size of both facilities, I'm usually only one or two rooms away from some part of the fight-- that is, if I'm not trapped in the thick of things. I'd considered switching my schedule to work overnight instead, since 'last round' ends around sunset, but for "security reasons" neither my car nor Sniper's camper can be within five miles of the building, so both he and I are bunked in with everyone else. There's no sleeping with that kind of noise going on, wondering if at any moment the door is going to explode in on you in a hail of gunfire, rocket shells, actual fire, and grenade pipes. So I more or less sleep when the mercs sleep. Of course, the barracks were only fitted for nine, so I've made myself cozy in a small storeroom with my cleaning supplies and my blanket from my car. Nobody's said anything about it, so I guess it's not a problem, but then again, I don't think they really noticed.

All that to say that there's no real avoiding the fighting around here while I'm working, except in the hours after sunset, before I collapse on the floor in the storeroom, and the hours just before sunrise.

So what's going on now? I decided to take advantage of a lull in the action to mop the mess in the middle of the shipping container storage bay but the “lull” was lasting a bit long and the quiet was… beginning to be concerning. Even despite listening, the hum of the huge fans for the climate control in this area muffled the sound of footsteps until they were right on top of me. By the time I looked up, I was already surrounded.

“... Hi. You uh… might want to watch your step. Floor’s still wet…” I say lamely, trying to keep from smiling nervously. I’m surrounded by the Blue mercenaries, which means that all the Red mercenaries are probably dead and going through respawn. Which meant I was alone with the enemy and literally the only living thing left to oppose their total control of this facility they were storming.

I’d already died a lot these past couple days. A lot. Some of it wasn’t as quick and painless as I’d like, but I’m not about to offer any critiques. Killing was their profession, not mine, so I don’t exactly have an expert perspective on the topic… Besides, I doubt they’d care for my opinions.

“Oh, I've been waitin’ for this, ya piker…” Here comes the blue-shirted Sniper, closing the distance, big knife in hand, with long strides like he hasn’t learned his lesson from last time. Still, the mop in my hands has never felt less like something I could defend myself with. But it turns out I don’t have to, as the Blue Heavy spares a hand from his huge gun to grab his teammate’s shoulder.

“Sniper does not beat defenseless little girls in front of Heavy.”

“Yo, that’s a girl?!” The Scout exclaims, pointing with his bat and looking at me like he’s seeing me for the first time.

“‘S not a bloody woman,” There’s an odd note of distaste in the Sniper’s voice to accompany his sneer, “...Even if it was…” He shrugs out from under his ally’s hand, but does not move closer to me. Yet. I can’t see his eyes behind his glasses, but I can feel the glare…

The Blue Soldier bellows out with authority, “CORRECTION! This cupcake is a cupcake!”

“Conagher wouldn’t hire a woman for this sort of work. Not for the war…” The Blue Engineer says quietly.

“Exactly!” Snaps the Australian, shifting his weight to step forward again. He’s interrupted by the swing of his ‘mate’s’ bat.

“Hey, f’real are you a girl?!”

“Bonny ‘nough face…” The Demoman mumbles, “could be a wee lass…”

The Blue Medic and Pyro remain quiet, the former watching me with furrowed brows. I can’t speak for the latter, but the mask is turned my direction.

This sort of reaction only surprises me because it’s stalling any violence to my person. I’m used to the confusion and questions. I have what some might consider a ‘pretty face’ with ‘delicate’ or ‘girlish’ features. My small stature and slim build don’t do me any favors, either. Nature has not been kind. In a man’s world, I’ve learned it isn’t usually to my benefit to look like a girl. It’s harder to get paying work that isn’t sex work or paperwork. Nobody wants to pay a woman to work with her hands. Not for skilled work. If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t care what people thought I looked like…

“I’m working,” I answer firmly, “So I’d appreciate it if we wrapped whatever this is up quickly…”

“No, I wanna know!” The Scout’s bat points at my face, his expression fierce to cover up his uncertainty. I don’t know whether that uncertainty is because my being a woman would be an insult because of how I got the briefcase away from him that one time (he’s killed me half a dozen times since, I would have thought he’d be over it by now) or if my being a woman would make me an acceptable target for other kinds of attention, “You a girl? Yes or no.”

“This is not the information we are here to obtain,” Says the suited figure appearing out of thin air at my side, and I shudder at the idea of how close the Blue Spy was to me without my even knowing. He eyes his teammates and then turns and looks down at me.

“Le petit nettoyeur, you say you are working. We are also working. You know the nature of our work. Tell us: what is the exact nature of yours?”

“... Bloody maid…” The Sniper growls.

“Cupcake!” The Soldier corrects sharply.

“Building maintenance,” Is my reply, shooting the Sniper a look, “general upkeep– plumbing, lights, heating and cooling… and yes, cleaning. But it’s not like I do their laundry and cooking or baking– I’m not a damn maid!”

“These were the duties you were hired for?” The Spy’s eyes are on mine, and I don’t like it. I feel like he can see right through me. See what I’m thinking.

“Yes.”

“And despite your presence on the battlefields and your… interference… with our collection of RED intelligence, you were not hired as a tenth combatant?”

I wince, “... Look, it’s not like he would have handed over the briefcase if I had asked him to–”

“--Damn right!”

The Spy frowns slightly, “Certainly not. Answer my question: were you hired as a tenth combatant?”

“If I were hired as a combatant, wouldn’t I have something besides cleaning supplies or a toolbox?” Something hard and cold enters the Spy’s gaze and the other mercenaries shift on their feet impatiently, so I give up being smart and say, “No. No, of course I’m not a tenth combatant. I’ve been saying it all along!”

Spy nods, and his frown fades into something that might have been the shadow of a smile before pursing his lips, “So… you clean and maintain RED facilities…”

“... Yes…?”

“... All of them? All the rooms?”

“... Most of them…”

“I see…” He closes his eyes and sighs out his nose, and when his arms unfold from behind his back, his gloved right hand is smoothly rolling open a balisong knife, “... They call you ‘Jacques’, do they not?” “...uh…” I almost step back, but the blue suited Pyro is there, and I can smell the gas and hear the clicking from his weapon, and I really don’t want to bump into it.

The Spy goes on, calm and reasonable-sounding, “... Jacques, I owe you a kindness from our last encounter, and as I am a man who honors his debts, I will not allow my teammates to exact their bizarre and pathetic vengeance for your insult to them at this time–”

“--Piss off! I don’t need you to allow me–” But the rest of whatever the Sniper meant to sputter was cut off by his teammate raising a single gloved finger. He growled and glared, baring his teeth at me instead, white-knuckling his fist around the hilt of his big knife.

“... But I have a responsibility, Jacques, and as a professional with responsibilities, I am sure you understand. So. Please,” Continued the Spy moving the balisong knife in his hand just so, so that it– and he– had my full attention again, “tell me the passcode to the door over my left shoulder just now.”

I glance at the door in question. I know the passcode. I wipe down the equipment in there and make sure it’s still running, but I don’t know anything about it. I don’t know what it does or how important it is. Whatever the reason, that door stays locked behind a passcode, so I probably shouldn’t tell this Spy that works for my employer’s rival!

“... Jacques,” He presses, meeting my eyes, his a cloudy blue, “I must insist that you tell me quickly. If you do not, I will have to extract the answer, and I do not want to do that.”

Part of me almost believes him. He owes me a kindness, like he said, but he’s not going to let that stop him from taking advantage of the fact that I have information that can make his job that much easier. He can make me tell him, I realize with a sinking feeling of dread. He probably knows just how to hurt me to learn every secret I know– even mine.

For a single moment, my stomach twists and drops to my toes with terror. In the same moment, I see the ridiculousness of it all– of this war, this rivalry. The idiocy. I know all the passcodes. I can get into any secret room I want to! Me. Jack. The nobody who doesn’t know anything about the importance of this fight. The nobody not even in the fight. But at the same time, I’ve got no way to protect this information. No weapons, no special training. No suicide pills.

This merc, a specialist, was going to hurt me and hurt me and hurt me until I gave him all the information he wanted that a person like me should never have been given in the first place.

But then that moment passes, and the Blue Spy’s head explodes into a fine red mist of blood, bone, and brains. A moment after that, red-marked pipe grenades and rockets were raining down on us.

Stumbling out of respawn, I ask myself a question: How long had the red-shirted mercs been waiting to launch their attack? How long had they watched me with the blues?

Had they known? Had they also known I would have broken?

Or was it all just a big coincidence?

#tf2 #tf2 oc #tf2 oc fic #tf2 OC & BLU Team #jackfic #my mic #22nd #May #2022 #May 22nd 2022

2 notes · View notes

auyouni · 2 years

Text

waiting for love to come around // septiplier

If someone were to keep a tracker of how Jack’s been spending his time, it’d probably reveal an alarming amount spent with his best friend. It's just very, very easy to find excuses to be around him, and harder to think of reasons to keep to himself. He came to this school solely to be closer to and spend more time with Mark, after all, didn't he?

And there's that whole “being hopelessly and unrequitedly in love with my best friend” bit, but he tries his best not to dwell on it. Easier said than done.

Mark, for his part, seems to welcome the company, always excited to have the Irishman take up his time, or even just sit on his bed as Mark edits, randomly telling him jokes or showing him pictures of cute animals. Just because he can.

It kinda surprises him one day when Mark is the one to enter his room without knocking instead of it being the other way around. The American just lays back on Jack's bed, looking… a little more dressed up than usual, actually. He's so used to Mark in pajamas or the most casual clothes he can manage that the change is a little jarring. Not bad, though…. definitely not bad.

“Oh how the turntables?” he asks with a small laugh, turning away from his computer to look at Mark properly. Mark chuckles warmly, head rolling a little to the side to look back up at him. God, he's gorgeous, his brain unhelpfully notes, bittersweet warmth running through him. He just smiles bigger though, tucking away those cracks. He wants Mark to be happy, something much more important than these feelings he's been harboring for much, much too long. 5 years now, he thinks. Jesus.

“I suppose so, huh? Does that mean that now I have to pull up shitty memes for you to put up with while you work, forever hoping that this time, please, it'll be a cute doggo?” Jack scoffs a little, offended.

“You love my memes!”

“That's what you think.”

“You laugh!!”

“Pity laughter, Jackaboy. Or do they not have that in the ass-end of Ireland?” Jack splutters, half laughing at the words, and Mark's eyes seem to shine a little.

“I'll have you know, the Irish are fuckin’ fantastic at memes. Not as fantastic as we are at pub brawls, but close.”

“You wish.”

“And, as an honorary leprechaun, all my wishes can and do come true.”

Mark gives a soft laugh, sitting up a little and grinning big, and the smile blankets over Jack like a perfect summer's day. “Shit, you got me there. Can't believe I've been bested by a man that always sounds like he's got potatoes in his mouth.” Jack snorts.

“Irish accents are sexy according to literally everyone else in the world, Marky, fight me.”

“Maybe I will!”

“I'd love to see you try.” Mark narrows his eyes a little at him, but Jack just responds with a smirk, one eyebrow raised. A few seconds pass, neither of them moving, and Jack laughs to himself, shaking his head as he turns back to his computer. “See, ya got nothin’--”

A solid wall of flesh slams into him, pinning him to the ground. It doesn't hurt, just knocks the breath out of him, and he finds himself staring up at Mark's grinning, smug face, so damn proud of himself.

What follows is a short but energetic wrestling match, both trying to get the upper hand. Mark is all experience and muscle, and Jack's got muscle too, but more importantly, he's fast. They're decently matched, but Jack ends up pinned uncomfortably in the corner of the room between wall and floor with no way out. Mark’s thighs grip him tightly as he straddles him, strong hands holding him in place, looming over him. Honestly, Jack could probably get out of this if he tried harder, but even with the way his back is protesting the position, he really doesn't want to move. It's not every day you get a lapful of your best friend, after all.

Mark's grin almost looks a little predatory as he seems to lean a little closer, and Jack's kinda thankful they're both still panting from the play fight. It hides the way his breath hitches.

“I won! What's my prize???” Mark asks, pressing a little harder into him, which is wholly unfair and a bit too distracting.

“Didn't know we were fightin’ f'r a prize here,” Jack manages, trying his best to glare up at him, but there's no real force behind it.

“Um, of course we were. What's the point if there's no prize???”

Jack grumbles, as if he wouldn't do absolutely anything for the man pinning him down. He’d steal the stars to light up his room at night with real constellations if he asked. “Wha’ d’ya want then, Marky?” he asks with an exaggeratedly exasperated sigh.

Mark's grin falters a little, that confidence wavering, which catches at something inside of him. He's actually kinda concerned for him now. Mark bits his lip, seeming to debate something heavily in his mind. Jack can only watch as Mark slowly comes to a resolution, brown eyes fixing back on his own blue.

“Go out with me?” Mark asks, faux-confidence ringing in every word.

“Ya don't have ta beat me in a wrestling match ta get me to hang out with ya, Mark - we spend most ‘f our weekends together, anyway.”

“No, Sean…” Mark looks a little frustrated at himself, and almost… nervous? Jack's not sure why - friend hangouts are pretty regular for them, something they both enjoy immensely, and-- “On a date. Go out with me… on a romantic date.”

At first, Jack gives a breathless laugh, sure he's joking (and hoping desperately he hasn't caught on to Jack's feelings yet), but the sincerity on his best friend's expression causes it to die out pretty fast. Does… he actually want to go on a date with him? He can't breathe for a moment, mind suddenly racing, trying to figure out what exactly he's supposed to make of this.

“You wanna… take me out… on a date? Real date?” Jack asks slowly, and Mark's gaze falls from his, landing on the wall beside him.

“Sorry, it's stupid, just… a thought. I don't know.” The pain and disappointment behind the words are so clear that Jack kinda aches for him.

“No!!! I-I mean… yes? Yes to the date, no to you trying to take it back, because don't you dare,” he says all in a rush, and Mark's eyes return cautiously to Jack's, confused, and a little… hopeful? How… long had he wanted this? “Marky, I'd… love to go on a date with you. 1000% yes. Like, it's not even funny how much I want that. Just to… try it, I mean. I…” He's not sure how casual this request is, doesn't want to be too eager - though his stomach is basically made of butterflies at this point - and yet doesn't want to appear too uninterested, because he is anything but disinterested.

Mark smiles slowly, something sweeter than the kind of smile he’d worn when he beat him, something fond and lovely and all for Jack, and he feels kinda like the breath’s been knocked out of him.

“Good, good!!! I… I wasn't sure you’d say yes.”

“I never thought you’d ask, so kinda the same boat,” Jack replies with a breathless chuckle. “I… I can't wait.”

#septiplier #sean #mark #drabble #main youni

3 notes · View notes