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restapesta · 3 years

Note

hi emina! happy last week of no school ♥♥

15. “Finally. Missed you so much.” but make it sort of in front of other people??🙏🙏🙏 if u want. it's okay if not, too!

MONDAY

---

ian (1:11 AM): it's hot as fuck here. can't sleep.

ian (1:12 AM): also, lip snores

mickey (1:12 AM): that's what you get for leaving me

ian (1:13 AM): drama queen, i only left this morning. be back in just a week.

ian (1:13 AM): why are YOU awake?

mickey (1:14 AM): fuck you, just a week. 🖕🖕🖕

ian (1:14 AM): 🙄

ian (1:14 AM): go to sleep

mickey (1:15 AM): you woke me up???

ian (1:15 AM): doesn't matter. just go to sleep.

mickey (1:15 AM): probably not

ian (1:16 AM): ???

mickey (1:17 AM): can't sleep without you

incoming call from ian (1:17 AM)

---

TUESDAY

---

mickey (11:22 AM): college bitch still pissed at us for waking him up?

ian (11:25 AM): isn't speaking to me. bitched about it to fiona the entire morning.

ian (11:25 AM): "can't go a night without him." blah blah

mickey (11:25 AM): fuck him. wyd right now?

ian (11:27 AM): helping Fi with the moving shit.

ian (11:27 AM): you?

mickey (11:28 AM): lunch with tami. bitching about lip.

ian (11:29 AM): 😌

ian (11.29 AM): that same lip is currently screaming my ear off to get off the phone.

ian (11:29 AM): keep bitching, my love

mickey (11:30 AM): tell him to fuck off.

mickey (11:30 AM): also, call me when you're done

ian (11:31 AM): 😘

mickey (11:31 AM): 🙄🖤

(12:57 PM) incoming call from ian

(16:44 PM): incoming call from mickey

(21:44 PM) incoming call from ian

---

WEDNESDAY

---

mickey (09:06 AM): come back home, im bored.

mickey (09:06 AM): Fiona doesn't need you for an entire fucking week.

ian (09:10 AM): 😬 just five more days

ian (09:10 AM): Fiona says hi!

mickey (09:11 AM): I'm horny, this is stupid.

ian (09:12 AM): handy-dandy hand 😁

mickey (09:12 AM): 🖕🖕🖕🖕

mickey (09:13 AM): ...something to work with?

ian sent a link (09:14 AM)

mickey (09:15 AM): you did not just send me the benefits of a cold shower, you bitch.

ian (09:16 AM): loveeeeee youuuuuu

mickey (09:16 AM): 🙂🔪

incoming call from ian (12:33 PM)

incoming call from ian (17:29 PM)

incoming call from mickey (00:12 AM)

---

THURSDAY

---

ian (08:12 AM): I'm horny.

ian (08:13 AM): mickey

ian (08:13 AM): MICKEY

ian (08:14 AM): babyyyyyy

ian (08:14 AM): pleaseeeeee come on, you're not sleeping rn

mickey sent a link (08:16 AM)

ian (08:16 AM): i deserved that.

mickey (08:17 AM): handy-dandy 🤛

ian (08:17 AM): hate myself at this moment 🙂

mickey (08:17 AM): 🤭😘

ian (09:44 AM): coffee on facetime?

incoming call from mickey (09:45 AM)

---

FRIDAY

---

ian (14:22 PM): sorry for the ghosting

ian (14:22 PM): Fiona's been killing me with the whole apartment cleaning shit

ian (14:23 PM): And Lip's hiding from her so he's always with me.

ian (14:23 PM): i know it's been a day.

mickey (14:25 PM): well, well, look who decided to text their husband finally

mickey (14:25 PM): it's been a whole day, ian.

mickey (14:26 PM): we are no longer on speaking terms.

ian (14:26 PM): 😲😨

ian (14:26 PM): i'm sorry.

ian (14:26 PM): i miss having breakfast with you.

ian (14:27 PM): i miss sleeping with you

ian (14:27 PM): i miss kissing you

ian (14:28 PM): and doing other things with you 😏

ian (14:28 PM): miss you so fucking much.

ian (14:28 PM): mick?

mickey (14:30 PM): ugh fine, you sap

mickey (14:30 PM): call me

incoming call from ian (14:31 PM)

---

SATURDAY

---

incoming call from mickey (18:55 PM)

ian (19:24 PM): phone sex is cool, but we should try sexting 😳

mickey (19:26 PM): i don't need a reminder of your disgusting ass dick anywhere on my phone.

ian (19:26 PM): hm? 🤔 not what you were saying ten minutes ago.

ian (19:27 PM): you sure you ain't ready for round two? 😏

ian (19:27 PM): bet facetime sex is even better.

incoming call from mickey (19:28 PM)

ian (02:22 AM): i miss you. i really fucking miss you.

---

SUNDAY

---

ian (08:02 AM): flight is at 10

mickey (08:04 AM): i'll be waiting for you when you land.

---

It had only been a week. A week filled with phone calls and text messages and a whole bunch of facetime—but, fuck, it had been a week.

Did Ian really have to go on and visit Fiona alone with Lip? Was it really that necessary for him to travel all the way to the alligator land just so they could help Fiona switch apartments? Mickey didn't see the point of the long-ass trip to Florida just so Ian could complain about how humid it was and how it was a blessing he didn't share a room with Lip anymore.

Mickey missed him. He missed him a lot more than he thought he would, and he really should've considered the fact that he and Ian spent most of their time together. They may have been apart before for long periods of time, but it was hard to tear them away from each other nowadays.

So maybe it wasn't that much of a surprise he'd had a hard time adjusting to the empty space of their apartment and the coldness of their bed. The lack of dad jokes during their long rides at work and the unmistakable scent of Ian that had been slowly fading and was almost gone now.

That was Mickey's excuse for not doing laundry. He didn't wanna lose Ian's smell from their home. The sappy excuse would probably work with Ian, he thought.

And even if it didn't, Mickey could distract him from his annoyance in other ways.

Airports sucked.

Being in an airport, waiting on Ian and Lip with their family of twenty thousand—or six, whatever—sucked even more.

But the plane had already landed and it would be just another couple minutes before Mickey saw his husband for the first time in a week. Before he wrapped his arms around him in a bone-crushing hug. He didn't even give a shit if anybody saw him and thought how big of a fag he was.

Husband. That was the only thing on his mind currently.

"They should be here already," Tami said, bouncing Fred up on her hip.

Debbie shrugged from beside Mickey, one hand tightly holding onto the redheaded girl between them. She was fisting the fabric of Mickey's jacket, and it made Mickey smile. It eased the anticipation a little.

Who was he kidding? There were swarms of bees in his stomach, poking and stinging. He felt slightly nauseous.

"I think I see Lip!" It was Liam who exclaimed.

Mickey didn't see Lip.

But he did see the redhead trailing right behind him, a suitcase in his right hand, recently bought for the trip. His hair was ruffled, and his eyes were sleepy, the jet lag probably hitting him in full swing.

Still, the green orbs Mickey missed so much lit up the moment he noticed Mickey, the corners of his mouth twisting up into a wide smile.

Mickey wasn't any better. He could feel the grin stretching across his face involuntary, yet he did nothing to hide it. Nothing to stop it from spreading. He didn't care to hide the excitement he was feeling upon seeing Ian for the first time in a week.

A week.

His legs moved on their own accord, and in what felt like no time at all, he was engulfed into a hug, Ian's long arms circling him—it was familiar; comfortable, and warm.

"Fucking finally," Ian choked out against Mickey's hair, his lips pressed to the top of his head, cradling his body gently. "I missed you so much."

Mickey tilted his chin up and their lips connected in a brief kiss. Just a peck that turned into a couple more, all loud on the pullback, their limbs still wrapped up in each other.

"Missed you more."

They stared into each other's eyes longingly for a couple of moments—it was probably too soft and sappy for them, but who gave a shit? They hadn't seen each other in a week.

What interrupted them eventually were a few short coughs, as if somebody was clearing their throat.

Mickey glared at Lip, practically forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the man he was holding.

"We done with the reunion or you guys wanna continue making out in the middle of the airport...?"

Ian was the one who flipped him off, finally disentangling himself from Mickey so he could greet his siblings properly and pick Franny up into a long hug. It made Mickey frown, the loss of contact. He forced himself to endure it, though—half an hour of a ride longer and they'd be home alone, free to do whatever the fuck.

Still, as soon as they were done with the obligated reunions and the questions about Florida and Fiona, Ian found himself next to Mickey again, gripping Mickey's palm and intertwining the fingers with his own.

Who gave a shit if anybody was looking? Who gave a shit if Lip was rolling his eyes at the obvious display of affection or if Carl was making obnoxious kissy faces at them as if they haven't been married for a while now—Mickey saw none of that shit.

All Mickey saw was Ian.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian and mickey #shameless #shameless us #fanfic #*ficlet #AHHH THIS WAS DIFFERENT?#i liked writing it #I HAVE A LOT OF ASKS RN #so the content will keep coming :)#also thank you for the ask ❤️❤️❤️

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jay-and-dean · 3 years

Text

Yet another thing to celebrate

Dean x reader

Summary (I used the requester’s words) : Reader’s birthday is on Christmas Eve, which generally sucks because everyone is either skint or celebrating Christmas.

Warnings : Fluffy fluff with a little fluff whipped cream on top. Very implied smut.

Wordcount : 3.6k

Note : This is my fic for @girl-next-door-writes Secret Santa (I reaaally hope you like it lovely, merry Christmas and happy birthday) hosted by @negans-lucille-tblr on @spnsecretsantaficexchange.

I also made my participation to the amazing @acklesterritory‘s celebration challenge, in the fic, my prompt was “I saw that, you just checked me out”, it’s bold in the fic.

The song refered to is She’s always a woman, by Billie Joel.

The text dividers are from the great @firefly-graphics

Jay’s Masterlist

Christmas…

Before you even open your eyes, you sigh, grabbing the soft pillow in your fist and nuzzling on its softness in a sleepy grunt.

You don’t hate this day, but it often makes you a little sad despite your will to enjoy it fully. It is your birthday. December 24, the busiest day in the country, damn, in the whole West. And even if you are not the kind to want the full attention on you, to be spoiled or anything, you just wish sometimes that, for once, you could have a proper birthday.

When you were a teen, you more than once even dared dreaming of a party you could throw, but Christmas is about family and basically about everyone. Not you.

You dream of a little birthday party with friends, some drinks, music, maybe dancing a little... But it would be impossible unless you do it way before or way after, and it wouldn't really be the same...

This year is different though.

This winter, even if the celebration of your birth was totally forgotten, you don’t need anything more than what you have now. And what you have is Dean Winchester. Nothing is more important than that, nothing can make you happier.

In fact, nothing can really make you feel any other way than blessed after this summer. After Dean kissed you on that hunt, after you two had sex in the Impala on your way home ; after later he asked you to stay in his bed for the night that other evening you both ended up naked. And finally, after he asked you to stay in his room for good a few weeks later, and started calling you his girlfriend.

You smile thinking of waking up next to him and move your feet to find his behind you. But when you don’t, you turn and rub your eyes before opening them.

Empty. Your shared bed is empty.

“Dean ?” is the first word you say, but the room stays cruelly silent.

Of course… It’s Christmas. He must be busy, like everyone is always on that day… The sting on your heart comes back... You have woken up with the man you love every single morning for the last few months, but not today.

That is how lame your birthday can be.

After staying in bed almost one hour, trying to shake that blues off by thinking of how blessed you are, you finally are about to get up and face that stolen day, but the door opens slowly.

You close your eyes, not really knowing why, maybe just to avoid having to find an explanation for not getting up before if you were awake. The bed moves under Dean’s weight as he crawls on it slowly but you don’t move, even when he clumsily crushes your arm a little while hovering you.

“Happy birthday Baby” he whispers with his coffee breath close to your face. “Have you decided to skip today ? It’s almost noon.”

“Mh…” you hum, lifting your arms to reach his neck, desperate to feel his skin. “Thank you.”

You hesitate a second, wanting to ask him why he got up without you today, why he didn’t wake you with kisses and sweet words like he often does, but you don’t say anything, grateful enough that he got tired of you not being with him and came to get you.

He lets a part of his weight fall on you, making you huff and laugh softly. His scruff scratches your shoulder, the rough fabric of his jeans is uncomfortable and his belt is digging to your hip but you wouldn't change a thing.

Your hand goes to his neck and massages it softly, he hums, and you feel his body softly relax. You always know just how to calm him, how to make him fall back asleep after a nightmare, how to make his muscles calm after the roughest hunts. But after less than a minute, he grunts, sitting up.

"No, no" he shakes his head. "You're not making me skip that day with you ! Get up Baby."

He grabs your shoulders and playfully shake them, not realizing that even his kidding strength is huge.

"Geeet uuuup" he chuckles when your whole body is shaken and your laugh sounds funny because of it.

The warm water runs along your hair and down your spine, and a soft steam fills the bathroom. For sure, that was a great late breakfast, with pancakes Dean had made for you, and his little stolen kisses.

He is really making this day better.

Maybe you can forget about your birthday now, and just enjoy Christmas like a normal person. You are loved, and you are happy, you don't need anything else.

Washing your hair, you smile thinking of the tree the boys have bought, so big that they struggled to carry it up the stairs. You chuckle at thinking of Dean grumbling about the thorns covering Baby's seats. They even bought bags mysterious decorations and fairy lights they never let you see. The library now smells like Christmas tree.

We're celebrating this year, Dean said. And in the years you have known the Winchesters, you indeed never saw them put so much effort in a holiday.

A lot of things keep surprising you.

Sam once told you that his brother had changed a lot since he was with you, making you worry more than anything else. You never wanted Dean to change, you love Dean just the way he is... Then you understood what Sammy was saying...

You understood in the little things. Like Dean's new love for late mornings in bed, like him drinking a little less, being a little less reckless during hunts, humming in the shower, letting go more in bed, allowing himself to give up the constant control he has on himself... And in his will to celebrate Christmas. Dean is not different, he is just happier.

Your eyes get a little wet with joy at the thought while your rub your body with the delicious smelling foam.

Forget your birthday, if Dean's happiness demands this day to be the Christmas he didn't have as a kid, the Christmas he is finally allowing himself to want, then you are honored to help him make it perfect.

You step out of the shower and your eyes meet the big mirror. In the middle of it, written with a big finger on the thick steam : "I love you Y/n".

Your choice is made : This will be Christmas. This will be anything to make that man as lucky as you are.

"How can I help ?" you say, entering the kitchen where Dean is apparently trying to make cookies, wearing this apron he only puts on for great occasions.

"I'm making cookies men like in Shrek" he says pointing to the not-so-bad gingerbread biscuits he already cooked with his finger covered in dough.

You come behind him and wrap your arms around his middle, forehead on his back, just feeling his breathing for a second. Dean doesn't stop what he is doing because he is used to you tenderly and randomly holding him, his clean fingers only come to gently caress your arm for a second before he shapes another cookie, chuckling when he adds a tiny penis to the little guy.

"I love you too" you murmur, nose grazing his back to bath in his smell.

He hums.

"We will eat dinner pretty early, I hope you're hungry" he says, looking at his watch. "I want to enjoy some time with my girl after."

You smile, getting on your tiptoes to kiss the uncovered skin of his neck above the collar of his flannel. He wants a lazy evening, making love like you do, or maybe try a kinky thing ; what is sure is you will gladly give him what he wants.

Time goes by sweetly as you watch this deadly warrior check the turkey while his equally legendary warrior brother prepares another round of eggnog for the three of you. They move around like busy bees in the room and it's a perfect show.

You sit on the counter, talking about silly things, sometimes doing something to help, when your boyfriend lets you. You keep sipping from the sugary drink, and watching the beauty of Dean just be before your eyes. Unaware of how perfect he is in his every moves, he just works with his strong arms and skilled hands.

Your eyes linger a little along his thick thighs, and you bend your head to the side to enjoy the exquisite sight of the sensual curve of his butt.

"I saw that, you just checked me out" he says in a smile without even turning around.

"And ?" you let out in a chuckle. "What are you going to do about that ?"

At your surprise, he starts to rock his hips from right to left slowly in clumsy funny moves of his butt, like he wanted to sexy dance for you without stopping what he is doing, earning an eye roll from his brother when his hip hits him on his way.

Christmas is already perfect.

The table is beautiful. Different courses in pretty plates you didn't know the guys had filling it like you have only seen in the movies. There is way too much food for three people but you are so happy that your beloved Winchester can eat like they want for Christmas eve.

Everything is pretty, the giant messy tree has real bright decorations on it and there are even a few presents at its feet, wrapped messily in colorful papers.

But their most impressive work is the light in the room, changing the place completely. Almost none of the artificial lights of the bunker is on, and a subdued ambiance with fairy lights and candles make it look even more magical than it usually is.

"When did you find the time to do all that ?" you smile with unintended wetness in your enthralled eyes. "It looks... enchanted in here."

"You stayed in bed until noon" Dean says in a light chuckle, pulling a chair for you and putting a kiss on your cheek. "Merry Christmas baby."

"It's perfect, Deanie" you turn your head so his next kiss lands on the corner of your mouth. "Merry Christmas guys."

Sam sits, rubbing his hands at the sight of the turkey, and starts reminding his brother of an old memory of a past Christmas you listen with all your focus. Everything that can make you know more about their life always catches your full attention. You are, after all, their biggest fan.

The story is about a Christmas when Dean was a teen. He had spent the night between 23th and 24th December with a girl and was really late to come back to the motel. Sam thought maybe he wouldn't be back for diner, he had already taken the cereals out of the closet when Dean showed up carrying the whole cooked Turkey he had stolen from the girl's parents.

You look at your boyfriend with all the love in the world and bend to give him a kiss on the forearm while he cuts a piece of this not stolen meat for you.

"Her parents were dicks, and I couldn't let you starve, dad would have killed me" Dean chuckles, filling your plate.

But you know the story must be really different from just that, Dean never brags about how great he was with Sam.

You let out a little moan, tasting the food and Dean’s face is lit by a wide proud grin.

“It’s good ?” he asks before he even tastes, an excited hope in his eyes.

“Delischious” you answer with your mouth full, a hand before it.

And indeed, everything is perfect. Dean, as much as Sam can playfully denies it, is a great cook. He has no technique, no cooking education, but what he has is a real love for food and comfort, a great experience on mixing things and tasting that gives him a perfect intuition. And, above all, the strong selfless will of saying "I love you" with food like some people have.

Sitting on the floor next to the tree, you hold against you the red flannel Dean finally agreed to give you, and the books Sam bought for you. Your head is leaning lovingly on your lover's shoulder while he looks, exited, at the vinyl records he got, humming his favorite songs.

You crawl between his thighs and rest your back on his chest, your head back, temple grazing his scruff.

"Best Christmas ever" you smile, feeling his lips graze your cheek. "So what is the program of a Winchester Christmas after that ?"

You close your eyelid and take a deep breath of Dean's scent, expecting a sexy proposition.

"We're going somewhere" he smiles, and, when you open your eyes, you see Sam put on his coat.

"Now ?" you frown, a little confused. "Where ?"

Dean gets up, putting you on your feet with his strong arm, and takes his coat and yours from Sam's hands.

"I'm not telling you. Take your jacket and get in the car."

He is silent on the road despite all your questions.

You listen to the car's purring and look outside to try to guess where they are taking you. The white snow covers the sides of the road with a very thin and delicate layer, the headlights are hit with little swirling snowflakes, and no clue betrays their surprise.

Sam is smiling, looking out the window. You know they have been planning something, and you know you will love it. Maybe they will show you a place they used to go when they were kids, maybe take you to a special place where you can see the stars so clearly, like this time last summer.

"Come on Dean" you say, kneeling on Baby's back seat to wrap your arms around him from behind, going down a little to feel his firm chest though his shirt under your palms. "Tell me."

"You can't wait just five minutes" he tries to grunt, but it sounds more like a chuckle.

You fall silent, not letting go of him, holding him like the precious treasure he is, occasionally smelling his hair, kissing his shoulder and tracing the contours of his ear. You just can't stop touching him, and since that talk you had after sex once, you know how much he loves it.

"Aw" Sam mocks you like he often does. "You two are so cute."

"Fuck yeah we are" Dean groans, turning right to a one way road.

"You know Christmas is already perfect" you smile. "You don't have to surprise me again."

"Yeah, I know" he says, parking in front of a bar. "But, it's not only Christmas today."

You look around, confused. The guys open the door, letting the freezing cold enter the Impala, and get out in a perfect sync. You follow them, lifting your eyes to the colorful neon lights reflecting in the snowy night. Around on the parking lot, more cars than you would have expected are parked, and you wonder who would spend Christmas eve in a bar like this one.

But before you can wonder why they would have taken you there, to this bar you never heard off, your boyfriend's hand wraps around your waist and he guides you inside, pushing the heavy doors.

The first thing that hits you is the perfect warmth of the inside. The temperature is perfect but not only : the music is smooth like honey, it's this kind of blues that is paradoxically happy and comforting, it smells like wood and whiskey ; and above all, here too, there is something about the light that feels like a hug.

The second thing that hits you is the welcoming familiar face of Garth smiling to you.

"Garth ?" you frown and feel Dean's lips graze your ear. "Happy birthday Baby."

He lets go of you to walk to the people there at the bar, arms open to greet them, letting you stunned.

You are recognizing all you friends there, still in their Christmas clothes, walking to you to hug you and bring you drinks and for a few seconds, your body just stays still.

No one is missing, not one person. And, even if you don't have hundreds of friends since you joined the hunter life, you have never seen a room so full of love.

"Let me take your coat" Jody says, seeing you froze to the spot.

"I... You're here for me ? Th-they planned all that ?" you stammer with some watery emotions filling your eyes.

"Dean did" Jody smiles. "We followed."

You're sipping from that delicious drink the bartender made according to your tastes, unable to take that smile off of your face. Donna, a little tipsy in her pretty outfit, is telling sexy jokes with a full dimpled smile, making Sam chuckle and Charlie high-five her, spilling a little of her drink on you.

From the corner of your eye, you look at him.

He is bending on the pool table with a smirk, his beer next to him. From here, you can't hear what he is saying to the other players, but it seems a little cocky. After only a few seconds staring at him, it's like he felt it and he looks up, giving you the cutest wink.

And you blush. Because even after all you have lived together, even after the kinky experiences, the intimate moments, after seeing him cry, yell, suffer or come... A wink is still enough to turn you to a blushing mess.

All evening, he has been keeping his distance just a little. Not avoiding you at all but not clinging to you, to let you enjoy your friends, to let you have the full experience of a birthday party like you dreamed of since you were a teen.

A birthday with loud silly discussions, a lot of drinks, inventing silly tipsy games with your best friends, trading your clothes in the bathroom, catching up as much as dancing with each other... And you never felt loved that much.

Dean's love is the sun in the middle of your world, but now you can also see the stars, and it is probably the best night of your life so far.

He managed to do something you never could for years and all your friends agreed with his crazy plan. They all had an early Christmas diner to be able to drive here, offer you too many drinks and be there for you. They all made it about you and you're both incredibly grateful and emotional. And since most of them will come sleep at the bunker -and eat all the leftovers with you tomorrow- you don't have to care about the time.

Suddenly, a music note catches your ear.

You know that note by heart. It is the first note of your favorite love song, it is the firsts notes of what Dean hums in your ear sometimes when he holds you after making love to you, pushing your hair on the side to see your sweaty bliss face.

You turn you head and meet green eyes, closer than you expected.

"Hey" he says, taking your hand.

"Hey" you smile.

He tugs gently at your arm, pulling you away from the bar to wrap his arms around your waist.

You have missed him. Of course he was here, but after everything he has done for you, you really have missed holding him, smelling his skin and kissing his lips.

He starts to sway his hips really slightly, humming the love words of the song, and you throw your arms around his neck, looking up at his perfect face.

"She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes..." he whispers the lyrics, fingers grazing the skin of your neck.

And for the hundredth time today, your eyes fill with happy tears while his fingertips go down on your back to hold your waist again.

"Are you having fun ?" he asks low, one hand stroking your lower back tenderly, thumb pushing your shirt up discreetly to feel your skin.

"It's the best night of my life" you give him your most sincere smile. "Dean... You are really incredible, you know that ?"

"Yeah" he nods, hiding his shyness in a kiss on your lips.

"I really was ready to chose Christmas, you know ?" you state, swaying your hips slowly with him, forgetting the rest of the world in your bubble of love.

His plumb lips gently raise on the corner, and he lets go of you to search his pocket.

"I didn't have to choose between hunter life and happy life thanks to you, so I'll make sure you never have to choose between your birthday and Christmas" he murmurs in your ear, before kissing your temple.

His hand reach yours and he opens it to put a little thing on your palm.

"What do you say we had yet another thing to celebrate on that day ?" his breath tickles your neck and you look down to your hand, discovering a little golden ring with a tiny blue stone in the middle of your shaking palm.

"Dean ?"

"Marry me Baby ?"

FEEDBACK IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME

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#supernatural #Supernatural Dean Winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #spn dean x reader #dean x reader #dean x y/n #fluff #dean winchester fluff #spnsecretsantaficexchange #jay and dean #christmas

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alwaysbeliev · 3 years

Text

Snapdragons

happy (very belated) Valentine’s Day, @the-awkward-outlaw ! i hope you enjoy this!

summary: Arthur Morgan has never been very good at talking about his thoughts and feelings. He finds it much easier to show them, and he hopes he's doing it the right way.

relationship: Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

word count: 1838

link on AO3

The First

Sunlight filtered delicately through the trees in the early morning. Birds chirped somewhere above, hidden among the flourishing summer canopy, a shadow dashing here and there between the branches. A squirrel scurried around roots on the forest floor, pausing only to dig at a spot and sniff before deciding it was fruitless and moving on.

You idly watched them, bundled in your coat as you stood by the morning campfire, holding a tin cup of coffee in your hands. The heat had pierced through the metal and was warming your cold hands. In slow, deep breaths, you inhaled the fumes, grateful for the steam that wafted upwards. It would be another hour before the air truly started to warm up.

Most of the camp was stirring now. You heard the rustling of Pearson at his wagon as he dug through the cart in search of ingredients. Jack emerged from his family’s tent, Abigail’s voice trailing after him in kind fashion, followed by a grunt from John. Miss O’Shea was combing her fingers through her hair just outside hers and Dutch’s tent. It was nice to watch them all in these moments and learn more about them than they might know about themselves. They were tiny snapshots into their lives.

But the one person you enjoyed watching the most was markedly absent from the group. His cot was visible to all the camp in these summer months, the little table with the flower and the photographs pinned to the side of the wagon. There was no indication he had slept there last night. You inhaled deeply, allowing it to lift your shoulders as you took a drink from your cup again. You didn’t dare ask where he was. You were determined, for some unknown reason both to you and externally, that nobody knew you were sweet on Arthur. You were sure it might give people the wrong idea.

For several months, you had been learning about the van der Linde gang. You had found them in New Austin, scouting the streets of Tumbleweed, and Dutch thought you were after them. Instead, you partnered on a score, and were ultimately invited to work with them permanently. “Family”, he said they were. You had never really known “family”, but were happy to be included. Now, you knew it meant you belonged.

Arthur had been wary of you for a long time. It wasn’t until Blackwater when he started focusing on keeping everyone together that he softened. “Softened” was the mildest word available for it, as he merely stopped shooting you disdained looks and avoiding you, but shortly after, he started having actual conversations with you. Not much longer after that, you would even call him your friend, and you wanted to be more. You knew his past now, though, and were sure it wasn’t in your cards. For now, you were content.

As you finished your cup and stepped away from the fire, the sound of slowly approaching hoofsteps made your head turn. Arthur and Hosea were riding back into camp, the former atop a new horse and the latter looking his age. You smiled involuntarily and hurriedly turned away in hopes that nobody saw. You busied yourself with placing your cup near the dishes that needed washing, certain you would be asked to do those later, and tugged your jacket tighter around your shoulders.

Someone called your name. You were surprised to see that it was Arthur, approaching you with a hand behind his back. Jack had done the same thing to you more than once, gifting you both frogs and candies on separate occasions.

“Mr. Morgan,” you greeted with a genuine smile, “how are you gettin’ on?”

“Jus’ fine, thank you,” he replied. He smiled, too, but abashedly.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, of course, I just, ah… I ain’t very good at this kinda thing, but thought you might appreciate these.” With a clumsy flourish, the cowboy pulled a cluster of flowers from behind his back, gripped tightly in his fist. Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized your favorite, snapdragons, in the center. Your mouth dropped open and you fumbled for words. Emotions raced through your head too fast for you to capture any of them.

“I, er, heard you the other day,” he admitted, “tellin’ the girls that you missed having some color around. We was out huntin’ and I saw ‘em and, well…” Arthur was out of words. He offered them again. Gingerly, as if nervous they might disappear, you took them from him, carefully thumbing through them with your other hand to identify what else was in the bouquet. It looked as though they had all hung from his saddle on his return journey, the leaves a little wilted and dusty, but the gesture was enough to bring a small sting to your eye.

“Thank you.” You barely managed to get the words out. You swallowed the emotion before looking up at him again. “That was mighty kind of you, Arthur, thank you very much.”

“Course,” he muttered, one hand gripping his belt while the other rubbed the back of his neck.

The Second

The gang had to move camp. Again. It felt like there was no chance to make a real home, more and more trouble coming your way. There were rumors of Pinkertons out here. How they had followed you through the mountains, you were at a loss, but there they were and away the gang had to go.

Following Mrs. Grimshaw’s orders, you helped Karen, Tilly, and Mary-Beth pack up the bed rolls and take down tents. You walked Horseshoe Overlook back and forth to make sure no identifying items were left behind. Soon, you were sitting in a wagon watching the fading camp. Recent memories of laughing, drinking, and even dancing with Arthur rolled through your mind. Mary-Beth took your hand and squeezed it. You gave her what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

Since bringing you flowers, Arthur had become an entirely different person. There was a strange kindness to him. You had seen it before, but now it felt tenfold, and most of it was directed to you. He would share his treats, his coats, sometimes part of his meal if he thought you might still be hungry, even showing you some of the sketches he made in his elusive journal. Tilly and Karen hadn’t missed it. Mary-Beth even sighed dreamily over some imaginary scenario in her head and called it “romantic”. It made you feel giddy.

Charles greeted the head of the wagon train. After entering a cove of trees, the wagons rolled onto a grassy clearing that edged up to a lake. A large tree took up the center, providing a great ceiling to what you hoped was the last place you would have to make home. Everyone circled in and you were immediately put to work again.

Hours later, the sun was setting on yet another day, and you watched it from a log on the lake shore. The smell of the evening stew was drifting towards the water. You had finally cooled off-- as much as you could, anyway, with the humidity-- and were just beginning to think of going for your shawl. Gravel crunched behind you and you turned to see Arthur approaching. He seemed down, the golden light highlighting all of his scars and frown lines.

“Mr. Morgan.” You hoped your eagerness wasn’t visible to him in the low light. His face, however, lifted instantaneously.

“Hope your day weren’t too rough,” he mumbled, stepping over the log to sit beside you. Casually, as though he had done it a million times, Arthur pulled some flowers from his satchel. They were more snapdragons, different colors than last time, and your face split into a wide grin.

“Well, it’s much better now.” Feeling a rush of bravery, you leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. It was rough and smelled different than you expected, but it fit him perfectly. The tinge of red in his cheek might have been explained away by the sunset turning a shade of pink by someone who wasn’t paying much attention. The bravery was gone almost as soon as it had arrived and you turned your gaze back to the flowers in your hand, gently picking at the leaves.

“Anyway, thank you,” you murmured. He grunted about it being nothing and you fell into silence together, your head burning with questions you were too nervous still to ask.

The Third

Early morning in Saint Denis had its own little charms. The city made you uneasy, that was for sure, and you knew you would long to return to the untamed wilderness soon, but as you studied the way the light shone on the buildings and listened to the sounds of the streets waking up, you could understand the appeal. Vines grew up the balcony, bees buzzed lazily between the small buds, the occasional neighbor greeted the other. Slowly, you grew aware of your immediate surroundings; the soft blanket, the real mattress beneath you, the new pillow under your head. Memories from the night before were beginning to set in and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning widely.

Arthur had gone with Dutch and a few others to a party the mayor was throwing. You knew it was important, and what they were doing was dangerous, but he looked so good in his suit, you couldn’t find it in yourself to worry too much. The friendship between the two of you had blossomed into something more, something both soft and fiery, comforting and passionate. With the move to Shady Belle, you found yourself spending more nights in Arthur’s room inside of the house than on your bedroll outside. He seemed to have read your mind when he saw you looking at him dressed up, slipping cash into your hand and giving you whispered instructions to meet him at a hotel that night, after the party.

Inhaling deeply, you turned onto your back, stretching your arm over to find who filled the space beside you. It was surprisingly empty, and your head turned to find the blankets poorly pulled back into place. In the dip on the pillow, however, were snapdragons. Pink, red, white, mixed with a few other wildflowers. It was a bigger bouquet than he had given you in the past and it was tied together with a piece of twine. A paper with a short message was laying beside it. Picking it up, you read:

Went for a ride. We both needed to stretch our legs, you understand. I will be back soon. Stay in bed, I will have breakfast soon. Yours, Arthur.

He was yours. He brought flowers, he was bringing breakfast, and it was all for you. Finally feeling content, you closed your eyes again, allowing sleep to pull you away until he made his return. This was your happy place, you thought as you drifted off again. You could stay here forever.

#arthur morgan reader insert #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 reader insert #rdr2 #angel writes

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bee-kathony · 3 years

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let go of your fears and your ghosts | Anthony & Kate

It's the morning of Anthony's 38th birthday, and he wakes with a cold sweat. He never planned on living to be the same age as his father. He reaches over to Kate, and counts his lucky stars that he doesn't have to face this day alone.

Anthony woke up in a cold sweat. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, and his head was throbbing. Dear God, was this it? Was this how he was to die? He had always dreaded this day.

His 38th birthday.

The age his father had been when he’d died so unexpectedly by a small bee sting.

With a glance over at his wife, he sighed with relief to see that she was still fast asleep. The last thing he needed was to wake Kate with his nightmares. Anthony had never planned to outlive his father, and for years he assumed that come his 38th year, he would fall fatally ill, or perhaps get into a carriage accident. Maybe he would meet his demise just like his father, stung by one of God’s smallest creatures.

This day would be a very long one indeed. Anthony’s hand rested on his chest as he took several deep breaths to calm himself. It had been years since he had truly thought of the day he would die. Every now and then, he would entertain a passing thought, but he could push them away. From the day that Kate entered his life, living became so much easier, and so much fuller.

She had persuaded him to live each day as if it were his last, and to enjoy the present. With his mind off of his bleak future, Anthony had created a life he loved, one that he didn’t wish to leave just yet.

Anthony hadn’t a clue as to the time, but there was a small sliver of moonlight creeping in through the heavy draperies. Once the sun came up, he would have to put on a smile and face the day. Every year on his birthday, Kate and the children ate breakfast on the bed with him, and then he would gather with whatever other Bridgertons were in London that day. He never wanted to make a big deal out of it, in fact, he would be happy to skip the event altogether. It was Kate that wanted to celebrate him. To remind him that growing older was not something to be feared.

Next to him, Kate sighed, before turning on her side to face him. She smiled in her sleep, something Anthony always loved to watch. Kate also talked in her sleep, but usually it was incoherent mumblings.

He stroked her cheek softly, watching her grin grow wider.

If there was one thing he was most proud of in his 38 years of living, it was that he had married Kate Sheffield. The mere thought of existing without her left a whole the size of England in his heart. For Anthony, there was no world without Kate. She had brought him love, and happiness, and best of all, three amazing children.

It was often that Anthony found himself wishing his father were still alive, if only to be there for his youngest siblings and mother. But it was one of his greatest regrets that Kate would never know his father. She would never know the great man he had been, or truly understand why Anthony thought he could never live up to him.

Edmund Bridgerton would have loved Kate. They would have conspired against him, he was sure of it. His mother was an excellent matchmaker, but he was sure that his father would have known Kate was the woman for him with just one look.

As Anthony lied in bed, his nightmare came back to him, the reason for his waking with such a start. It had also been his birthday in his dream, and he had been playing in the garden with the children. A moment later, he heard the worst sound imaginable… the buzzing of a bee. Anthony felt a sharp pain in his chest, and the next thing he knew, he was awake, panting in his bed.

He felt like such a fool to be afraid of a creature he could crush beneath his boot. But that very creature had taken the life of the greatest man he would ever know.

It would be difficult to think of anything else on a day like today. His inevitable demise.

Kate had told him to think of three good things if his mind ever lingered on these thoughts. As he lay next to one of his good things, he took a deep breath and said them out loud quietly.

“Kate,” he breathed in and out, letting his hand rest softly on her head.

“My children,” he took another breath.

“Newton,” Anthony laughed then as he thought of their dog. For the first several years of their marriage, Newton had slept in the bed with them, but once Edmund and Miles were old enough, Newton had grown accustomed to sleeping in the children’s room. Not that Anthony minded, as it gave him and Kate more room for other activities in bed.

“What are you laughing about?” Came a sleepy voice next to him.

“Oh nothing,” Anthony grinned and placed a kiss to her forehead. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Did I hear you call for Newton?” Kate asked, rubbing her hand over her eyes.

He nodded, “I was thinking of three good things.”

Kate sat up in bed, bringing her hand to his cheek. Her fingers rubbed agains the scruff of his beard. As he’d grown older, Anthony had preferred not to shave his face, and he found that Kate rather enjoyed the scratch of his stubble on her smooth skin.

“Oh,” she said softly, her brow creasing as she understood. “You should have woken me earlier, Anthony.”

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her body close to his and laced their fingers together. “I haven’t been awake that long actually,” he sighed. “Just had a bad dream is all.”

“You have nothing to fear,” Kate squeezed his hand. “If you would like to pretend it’s not your birthday… then we can do that.”

“No,” Anthony shook his head, at that moment realizing that wasn’t what he wanted at all. “The children love any excuse to eat cake,” they both laughed. “I don’t want to ignore today, but it shall be a lot easier if I can hold your hand for the whole day.”

Kate brought his hand to her lips. “That can be arranged.”

Anthony gathered Kate closer, feeling his heart slow to a normal pace. The simple act of holding his wife in his arms was the best medicine. Kate calmed him in ways she could never know. Her presence alone had the power to banish his fears and ghosts. Kate was the soothing balm on his weary soul.

“One day,” Kate said softly against his chest, her fingers stroking his collarbone. “You will have grey hair all over that head of yours. You will wake up and find that you need spectacles to read the paper with,” she grinned. “And your joints will ache in the morning as you rise.”

“They already do ache,” Anthony kissed the top of her head. “But that is probably because of the activities that occurred the night before,” he laughed, letting his hand slide down to her waist.

Kate swatted at his chest playfully, squirming as he tickled her.

“One day you will find wrinkles on your face that weren’t there,” her hand moved to trace his nose, his lips, and his brow. “You will sit in a chair with your grandchild on your lap, telling them the story of how we met and fell in love.”

“What a long story that will be,” Anthony chuckled.

“You will be old and grey one day, Anthony Bridgerton,” Kate pressed her lips softly against his. “Then you will think back on your wonderful life and I hope you don’t have any regrets.”

He was silent, contemplating her words. It was hard to picture himself as an old man. Perhaps because he had never seen his father with greying hair of his own. Anthony was sure of one thing, however — he did not want to live without Kate. He knew this was selfish and cruel, but he hoped that when the time came, he would go first. Better yet, he would prefer to die in her arms, at exactly the same moment she left this earth as well. There was no life worth living in a world without Kate Bridgerton.

“You already have a few grey hairs, you old man,” Kate grinned and ran her fingers through his hair.

“I think I saw a new wrinkle on your forehead just the other day,” Anthony quipped.

“Anthony!”

“Just a small one right there,” Anthony kissed her forehead, where no wrinkles had yet formed. His hands slid over her waist, finding a certain spot that sent her into a fit of giggles. He flexed his fingers, tickling her stomach as she kicked her feet out and burst into laughter.

“Anthony, please stop!” Kate tucked into herself, trying to stop his hands from tickling her. He always knew just exactly where to get her.

Hearing Kate laugh was one of the best sounds in the world, but so was the small gasp that left her lips when he slid his hand across her belly and cupped her mound.

“Did you want me to stop now?” He asked, his breath hot in her ear.

Kate clutched his arm, keeping him right where he was.

“As long as you don’t tickle me again,” Kate sighed and moved her hand under the sheets, finding his stomach. Anthony let out a deep moan of his own. “It’s your birthday after all.”

Oh how he loved his wife.

Anthony rubbed his finger along her slit, feeling her part her legs further. She was wet already, and he pressed his face into her neck, inhaling her scent. Lilies and soap.

She arched her back, pressing against his fingers as he stroked her, finally moaning as he pushed one finger inside. Kate’s hand moved over his thigh, until she took his cock in her delicate hand.

“You get thirty-eight kisses today,” Kate kissed his cheek.

He pumped another finger inside of her, and groaned as she began to stroke his shaft. Her fingers were light on him, going from the base to the tip, and then she moved her thumb over the head.

“Kate,” he mumbled against her lips.

She kissed his mouth before sitting up, causing his fingers to slip out of her as she adjusted her position.

“Thirty-six kisses to go,” Kate said coyly. Anthony watched in astonishment as Kate climbed over his body, straddling him with her back facing his front.

His hands had just settled on her hips as her tongue flicked out over the tip of his cock.

“Oh God, Kate,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Thirty-five,” she kissed the head, before taking more of him in her mouth. Kate wiggled her bottom, stretching across him. Anthony pulled her closer, angling his head just so and settled in between her thighs.

Kate began to kiss every inch of his cock, then swirled her tongue around it. Her mouth took him in easily, and Anthony found it quite difficult to focus on anything else. But he could feel her heat, and he parted her legs and licked up her center. She arched her back, moaning and the vibrations he felt on his cock made him shiver.

“Twenty more to go,” she mumbled as she began to move her head up and down his length. Anthony wasn’t sure he could last through another twenty kisses, but he wanted to make her come first. He was a gentleman after all.

He doubled his efforts and used two fingers to open her to him, and licked like a cat lapping at milk.

Kate’s movements slowed and he could feel the tension in her body building. Her hand gripped him harder, and with another flick of his tongue, Kate cried out, and he sucked her down.

It was only moments later that Kate took him back into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip and uttering words Anthony had only dreamed of her saying.

“Two more,” she pumped his cock faster, and Anthony felt his muscles tighten.

A second later and he came hard, spilling himself into her mouth. Anthony leaned back against the headboard, his hands cradling his wife’s waist. Kate collapsed on him, and after several minutes, found her place at his side, tucked under his arms.

“One more kiss,” she whispered and placed a tender kiss to his cheek. “Happy birthday, my love.”

With his wife by his side, Anthony was sure that he could face this day, and he longed for the future she had imagined, with greying hair and grandchildren to spoil. In the silence of their bliss, Anthony found the courage to say goodbye to his fears and his ghosts.

#bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfic #kathony #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #kate x anthony #my fic #let go of your fears and your ghosts #chase the bees away

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dalamjisung · 3 years

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play date ❁ choi youngjae

word count: 2197

genre: slice of life, fluff, dog dad!youngjae

member: youngjae x reader

description: there’s nothing to worry about, really– even though not much changed with the immediate transition to Sublime, Youngjae still made a point of making time for you and you guys’ daughter, Coco. And obviously, her uncles. He always makes time for the whole family.

“Y/N!”

Popping your head out of the shower, you frown, unsure if you actually heard your boyfriend or if you simply had a brain fart moment. Just as your shampoo starts to drip from your hair into your eyes, you hear it again.

“Y/N! Babe!”

“In the shower!” You call back, doing your best to stop the shampoo dripping down your face from getting into your eyes. You are too slow, though, and the sting has you yelping as you move to get yourself under the warm water, but once your feet falters and slips, there is nothing you can do.

Youngjae finds you in the bathroom naked and wet, hand caressing your behind as you wince in pain from the fall. You open the one eye that doesn’t hurt to see him hiding his laughter behind his hand, snorting slightly as he composes himself.

“Are you okay, love?”

“Sure,” You say, irony dripping from your voice. Grabbing your towel, Youngjae holds it open, embracing you with it once you are back on your feet. “Just peachy.”

His hands pat you down, drying your skin with all the care in the world. It’s been a while, since you two been able to be intimate– and you don’t mean sex, no; you mean emotional intimacy, the kind that shines brightest when it’s just you two, laying in bed, talking about your day while your hands draw shapes on each other; the kind that is so strong it can be suffocating for anyone else to witness as you two whisper to each other in the middle of movies, giggling and just feeling. With the GOT7 contract ending and the immediate transition into Sublime, Youngjae has barely had time to come home and shower, much less to sit with you and relax. So this– this moment of vulnerability and connection– even though it cost you an eye and a possibly broken hip… this is all you want.

“Are you okay?” You feel his lips moving on top of your hair and his fluttering kisses, on your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, you mouth. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You sigh, smiling. “I’m all better now.”

“Really?” He asks, and something about the low voices and murmuring conversation creates a sensation of home, in his arms, in your bathroom.

“Yeah…” You lay your head on his chest. “Just being here with you is–“

“Great!” And just like that, the mood is gone. “Get ready!”

A bit thrown off, you blink, trying to place yourself again. Chuckling, you follow him to your room, catching the clothes he throws at you.

“And where are we going, my love?” You ask softly, slowly getting dressed as you watch your boyfriend excitedly look at the door, almost as if he is expecting something.

And you hear the small pitter patter of her paws on the wooden floor before you see Coco coming in, looking her for loyal companion. Laughter bubbles up as you see her small frame covered by an even smaller red tutu dress.

“Why is Coco so dressed up?” You laugh, pulling a sweatshirt over your head. “She looks better than I do…”

“You both are beautiful in your own way,” Youngjae rolls his eyes, kissing your cheek as you pat your hair dry with the towel. “Are you almost ready?”

“I mean, sure,” You shrug, brushing your hair. “I still don’t know where we’re going, but I hope looking like a wet mess is not a problem.”

“Correction, you look like a hot mess,” He kisses you quickly, bending down to grab Coco and let her give you a few licks on the face. “And no, it is never a problem to look like a hot mess. Now, let’s go or else we’ll be late.”

“Late?” You mutter to yourself. “We have an appointment somewhere?”

“Not us,” Youngjae wiggles his brows, giving you the dog as he runs around grabbing jackets and phones. “Coco.”

“Coco?” You snuggle her closer to you, petting her head slowly. “Are we taking her to the vet? I remember her last visit, it wasn’t that long ago and–“

“She has a date,” He explains, opening the door to you. “On that one park next to the coffee shop you like.”

“And where did you find this date?” You chuckle. Youngjae’s devotion to Coco has always amused you; it is adorable how much he cares for the pet, and you are not embarrassed to admit that it is one of the many reasons you fell in love with him– his devotion to the those and what he loves.

“Secret,” He holds your hand, giving you a squeeze, before pulling you down the street.

“You hear that, Coco?” You tell the overly excited dog, much like your boyfriend. “Daddy is pimping you away.”

“Yah!” Youngjae’s eyes go wide, and incredulous laughter escaping his mouth. “Y/N, don’t say that!”

“But it’s okay, baby,” You continue, putting her down on the ground, leash secured. “Mommy would never let bad doggies get to you. It has to be a special doggie, one that will treat you well.”

“Babe,” Yugyeom whines, stomping his feet and you giggle at his adorable pout. You two are almost there, Coco guiding the way she knows oh too well by now. Whenever he had time away from work, Youngjae would make sure to walk Coco to the park every morning, stoping to get you coffee from your favorite shop. Then, once he’s back home, he’d wake you up with kisses and breakfast, and together, your small little family of three, would enjoy the morning as it passes by.

It still amazes you that you and Youngjae are able to discuss mundane things; the way his eyes sparkle when you tell him a new office gossip, or the way he tells you some previously forgotten secret that Jinyoung told him and promised not to tell anyone.

“Everyone knows,” He says, pulling you through the park’s gate and to the fountain. “That if I know, you know. It’s just how it works.”

“Definitely,” Your eyes glint in adoration as you watching him look around, standing on his tippy-toes as if the extra inch would make a difference. “Who are we–“

“Hyung!”

Yugyeom waves wildly from the other side of the fountain, and when you approach him, you finally notice the small dog with a tuxedo by his feet.

“What the hell are you two doing?” You sigh, snorting as Dalkyum waddles, still unfamiliar and uncomfortable with the outfit.

“What?” Yugyeom laughs as Coco moves to playfully bite his dog, both barking and running around once you let them free from their leashes.

The three of you sit on the grass, and you can’t help but observe Yugyeom as he moves around, shoulders relaxed and a small smile practically glued to his face.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” The youngest jokes, giggling as Youngjae wraps an arm around you to pull you to him.

“Don’t get smart with me, kiddo,” You flick his forehead. “You just seem different.”

“Different how?”

“Like you are finally your age.”

There is agreement in his silence, and you see the way his smile widens; he is happy. He is young and he finally can be young. After a while, he starts talking about a new dance routine he’s rehearsing.

“It’s really cool, noona, you’ll love it, seri–“

“Oh my god, Dalkyum no!”

Youngjae practically pushes you to the side when he notices Yugyeom’s dog mounting his precious Coco, running to pull her away. You can briefly hear him lecturing them both before coming back.

“You said this was a date!” You gasp, grabbing Coco away from him. “Let them date!”

“Date? Da– Y/N, they were having sex!” Youngjae cries out. “This is just their first date!”

“So?!” You laugh, letting Coco go back to Dalkyum. “We had sex on our first date and I don’t remember you complaining about it.”

“She’s got you, hyung,” Yugyeom whispers, holding his laughter in.

“That is our daughter!” Your boyfriend ignores the maknae and continues frowning. “I can’t–“

“Be free, Coco! Run to the love of your life and be happy,” Yugyeom screams, making both of you jump. You look back to see both your dogs running away and you can’t help but laugh at the indignant cry Yugyeom lets out.

“My baby!” His hands is stretched out, dramatically reaching out for his dog. “Y/N, how could you betray me like that?”

“I’m on Coco’s team,” You pat his hair as he lays his head on your shoulder. “Us women have to stick together.”

“Is that your way of telling us all to go fuck off?”

You look at Bambam, whom you’ve bee expecting for a while, since him and the other youngster could never last long when they’re apart. He is wearing Jackson’s new collection and, behind him, you can see the one and only sneaking some pictures of his friend. Jinyoung is not that far behind, pulling Mark and Jaebeom pas the ice cream cart; you chuckle as you hear the two grumbling in the background.

“Why is everyone here?” You ask Youngjae, eyeing his suspiciously.

“We heard Coco and Dalkyum were getting married,” Jackson snorts, showing you the pictures sent to the groups chat. “We’ve been intimated to come and congratulate the new couple.”

“Married?” Yugyeom echoes, shock in his voice. “Yah, hyung, this is just their first date… marriage is a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Your dog was humping my baby not even ten minutes ago,” Youngjae seethes. “He better take responsibility now. Who knows if she’s pregnant?”

“Babe, that’s not how it works at–“

“What do you mean?!” Yugyeom shouts back, sitting up from where he was laying. “Coco gave him consent! It takes two to tango!”

“Guys, really, that’s not–“

“Yah, Kim Yugyeom!” Youngjae points at his dongsaeng.

You barely hear the end of that conversation, following Jinyoung as he pulls you aside.

“Ignore them,” He sighed, and even though he might try to look uninterested and bored, you always recognize the amused smile Jinyoung constantly displays. “They can go one forever.”

“Poor Coco,” You say, poking him with your elbow. “She just wants true love.”

“And she chooses Dalkyum?” Jinyoug snorts, rolling his eyes. “That dog is worse then his owner.”

“Excuse me?!”

You two look at Youngjae and Yugyeom, both staring at you with wide eyes.

“Dalkyum is not a bad boy!” Yugyeom insists, coming over to you.

“He’s is a dog!” Jackson tries to interfere.

“No he’s not, he is a gentleman!” Bambam says, hopefully helping his best friend.

“Coco deserves better,” Mark says, coming to stand next to Youngjae.

“She is a princess and she is to be treated like such!” Your boyfriend agreed. “Right babe?!”

“W-what?”

“Our daughter!” Youngjae practically slaps his face. “This is about her future, will you pay attention?”

“Yeah, Y/N,” Jinyoung scolds you, moving to stand with the boys. “This is important.”

“Will it be like this when we have kids?” Youngjae muses and that is enough to shut everyone up, eyes wide and mouths hanging open, pretty much like you are right now. “I mean, I don’t mind going to the PTA meetings, but I don’t think I can handle being the serious one in the family, love. Seriously, I’d be terrib–“

“Oh my god, don’t ruin this.”

Grabbing his face, you pull him down for a kiss, shutting him up with pure passion. You can hear the boys screaming and whistling in the back, but right now all you can think is about the fact that Youngjae has got you covered. For a long, long time you’ve known that he is it; there is no going up from Choi Youngjae– he is your happy ending. And you believe he just told you, you are his, too.

“When we have kids,” You tell him, a bit breathless. “We can worry about this; for now, we can both be overprotective parents and take Coco home. I think Dalkyum might be a bad influence on her.”

“What? Why?” Yugyeom whines, frowning.

“Because I haven’t seen any of them for about fifteen minutes and I’m starting to worry.”

That sets them all in panic. Jackson is the first one to run, screaming for the dogs, while the rest follow suit. You walk hand in hand with Youngjae, and he is not as worried as you thought he’d be– mainly because he knows Coco would never stray to far away from either of you– but also because he can see her next to some children a bit far ahead. None of you say a word, though, watching the guys running around each other, and you wonder when did a search party for your dog turned into a game of tag.

“What are you smiling about?” Youngjae asks, leaning down to pick Coco up. In turn, you pick up Dalkyum, afraid that he’d wonder again.

“Just happy,” You kiss him on the cheek. “Happy you’re happy.”

“The whole family is here,” He laughs, and you smile; there is just something about Youngjae’s laughter that feels contagious. “What’s not to be happy about?”

“You’re right,” You hug Dalkyum closer, chuckling when Yugyeom calls you over. “They’re all here.”

—————————————

Am I the only one that thinks Youngjae is absolutely a chaotic good vibe?? He is so adorable, and his laugh is so contagious I could just burst every time I hear it 😚 What do you think of this one? Let me know! If you liked this story, please please please share, comment, like, or anything you feel comfortable doing ❤️ thank you for your endless support, lovelies💕

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stellarboystyles · 4 years

Text

From the Dining Table

hello friends <3 this is my second fic for the HS1 Masterlist that @bfharry , @stylesloveclub and I have teamed up to write for you, hope you enjoy x

2.9k angst angst angst

For the first time in a long time, Harry was alone. It was a strong contrast to his old schedule, his days were always jam packed with press interviews, meetings, radio interviews, red carpets, appearances, talk show interviews, meet and greets, concerts...He was definitely a busy bee.

He knows he should be happy. It should be unquestionably irie to simply relax and have some time to himself, but Harry is miserable. Has been ever since her. It’s been too long since he’s seen her eyes, those pretty eyes that he could get lost in for hours gazing back at him, and her smile. God, her smile could cheer him up in his darkest days. He can’t stop thinking about her cheeks and how he used to squish them while he cooed at how adorable she was because they’re the cutest cheeks he’s ever seen and whenever she would blush around him he’d brush his thumb across her cheeks and give her butterfly kisses across her soft skin.

He loves her sense of humor, and how she could always make him laugh. Even if he thought he was having the worst day of his life, he saw her and nothing else mattered. Thinking about her personality made his heart thump in his chest. She was so sweet and kind, and so selfless. She was always doing things for other people and she was strong, and so supportive of everything. His lifestyle, his busy schedule, his privacy, everything.

He loves her style, he definitely finds himself wearing things that he thinks she would like. She’s the one who inspired him to jump out of his comfort zone of tight jeans and chelsea boots and explore different colors, patterns, materials, and he’s forever grateful that she showed him that he could be himself, he swears she’s the real reason he truly blossomed into his own style. Not just around her, but that he could show the world who he really was as well. And she cares so much about animals, he loves watching her interact with them, one of his favorite memories being the time that she rescued a family of bunnies from a fox in Harry’s back garden and it was quite literally the sweetest thing his eyes had ever seen. He misses her tender heart and how gentle natured she is.

He misses how he feels fireworks every time she touches him. He misses how her lips taste, how it feels when they move against his. He misses her soft skin, and how she smells like citron and rose. He misses waking up every morning and seeing her all sleepy as he kisses her all over. He misses how she used to touch him and he feels in his bones that no one could ever make him feel the way that she did.

He misses all of that, all of her. Every single inch of her skin, every little bit of what makes her who she is. But he doesn’t get any of her. Not anymore. Instead, he’s alone in this random hotel room and awake at four in the morning because he can’t think about sleep. If he does, all he’d dream about is her. Not that being awake is any better because she is the only thing swirling around in his brain. Flashbacks are hell, especially when he can’t stop thinking about her being on top of him right now, looking completely fucked out of her mind as she rides his cock. He’d be pressing the back of his head into the pillows and she’d touch his chest and smooth her hands down to his lower belly and she’d be doing all the things that she knows drives him fucking wild.

He can’t help himself as he starts to lightly tease himself through the white sheet covering the lower half of his body and there’s a hitch in his breath at the feeling of his fingertips stroking his cock under the thin material. His eyes flutter closed and he’s got nothing on underneath and it just makes him think of her more because he thinks of how much she loved barebacking, and Harry really fucking loved it. The feeling was indescribable, feeling her so deeply on such an intimate level was something out of this world. With every thought of her his reflexes added more pressure, his body temperature rising with every moment passing by until he’d had enough and nearly rips the sheet away from his lower torso and he’s fisting himself now, chasing his release and all he can think about now is how much better she is at the act in question, so much so that it blew Harry’s mind. He didn’t last long, but at this point he didn’t give two fucks if he had an orgasm or not, he just needed to feel something. He was left in a daze as he pushed himself off the bed and towards the bathroom.

˙· .° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °. · ˙ ‧̍̊

Long, hot showers were created for the sole purpose of contemplating your life, right? Or are they just for trying to cry away a broken heart. He doesn’t know the answer, nor does he know how long he stood there, before tilting his head back and letting the water splash onto his wet locks. Hot water from the shower head hitting his back. After around twenty minutes his skin was numb to the feeling.

In the beginning he’d considered it all, but the reality? She left him, without any sort of reason. Harry’s spent weeks and weeks wracking his brain for something, anything he could’ve done so that he can apologize, make it right. Truly, he hadn’t felt that he’d done anything to upset her. So yes, he had every right to be angry. Maybe it was his fault. He’d spent endless sleepless nights staring at the ceiling of a hotel room, mostly because he couldn't bear to be home because everything reminded him of her, and his mind just couldn’t go there. His nights were spent tossing and turning, doing absolutely nothing until his friends finally convinced him to go out with them.

He didn’t want to admit that it was better than wallowing in self pity all night, but it was. For the next few weeks, all Harry had gotten himself into a cycle. Go out, get drunk, and at the end of the night he’d always be unsatisfied. He kept telling himself he was never going out for the sole purpose to bring a girl that looked like her back to his hotel room, but that’s just what he was telling himself. Deep inside, he was struggling to feel anything. He was angry, sad, and broken.

She didn’t leave her bed for three days. Dejection mercilessly beat up her heart until it felt like there was nothing left. The heartbreak gnawed away at her. She was barely eating, couldn’t sleep and she had no one to blame but herself. She stayed huddled under the covers as she wallowed in self sorrow, knowing all too well that this was all her fault.

It was a travesty. It should have never happened, especially not like this.

The connection they shared was unbreakable. It was evident that nothing could ever raze the bond that they created together. They made the best team, and they were inseparable. Everything was perfect. Harry was charming, loving and softhearted.

Their love was like the ocean. It was tranquil and soothing, yet strong and deep. It was so incredibly breathtaking, but also had the intense potential to destroy. To put it simply, she was damaged. Way before she met Harry, and that was it. She thought she had it under control, she thought that they could make it. They did, for a while, but her demons caught up with her eventually. Everything heightened after she was exposed to all of it. The rumors, the paparazzi, the backlash. It triggered all the worst parts of her, the things that she had kept under control for so long. He tried to help her, tried to fix them. They both tried, but it just wasn’t working.

Now, months later, she was here at the airport. She knew she had to go to him and try to make things right. Clutching her ticket in her hand, she slouched into her chair, staring at all the glowing red words that read “cancelled” across the board. How unlucky was she that she would be stuck at the airport, alone.

“Hi, d’you have any flights t’London for tonight?”

She could hear her heart thumping in her ears when she heard the voice at the desk a few feet away from behind her. It felt like every cell in her body was on fire, she hadn’t mentally prepared herself for what could happen yet! She was supposed to have a six hour flight to coach herself before this.

“A’right, thank you.”

Oh my god, is he gonna say something? Of course he won't, he hates me.

It felt like she didn’t know him anymore, this boy, this charming, sweet boy that she fell in love with. She was afraid of how angry he is, how bitter that she left.

“Y/N?”

His voice was soft and hesitant, almost shaky.

Her eyes squeeze shut for a moment before looking up at him. He looked dumbfounded, at a loss for words. They couldn’t believe their eyes when they saw each other. He watched the color drain from her face, and he could feel his heart beating out of his chest. There they were, face to face in JFK Airport. Seeing each other for the first time since their downfall.

The tension couldn’t get any thicker. Her eyes were locked onto his face, watching him give a pained expression before quickly brushing past her.

“H, wait—”

“You don’t get t’call me tha’ anymore.”

His voice was cold, biting back at her words over his shoulder. He didn’t stop sauntering across the airport and she struggled to keep up.

“Please...I know I don’t deserve it, but can we talk?” She implores before pressing her lips together. “Please.”

His teeth clench before stopping in his tracks, turning around to face her.

“Took y’long enough.”

There was no hint of humor in his voice, no Styles charm, no cheeky smile, no dimples, nothing.

“You look good.”

He scoffs, almost rolling his eyes because he know’s that she’s lying. He knows she’s being kind.

“Looks can be deceiving.”

Shit.

“Right.” she nods, eyes falling down to his shoes.

“How are you?”

“Miserable.” she answers honestly.

“S’tha’ supposed t’be my fault?”

She felt her waterline start to sting, but he had every right to be bitter.

“No,”

“Fuck, shouldn’t have said tha’, m’sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” she shakes her head dismissively, brushing off his apology. “I deserved that.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Are we really doin’ this right now?”

She gave him a look of desperation, silently begging him to stay. Begging him to listen, even if she didn’t deserve that from him, she knew she didn’t. Harry contemplated whether he should give her any of his time, miss his flight to listen to whatever sorry excuse for an apology she had. But, his heart was still soft for her.

“Where were y’goin?”

“I...I was coming to see you. I thought you’d be in London.”

She was going to London?

“Y’were goin’ t’London?” he quirks, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

She nods. Yeah, to see you.

Harry has the biggest, yet quickest inner battle of his life. He wasn’t sure if letting you back into his house after what happened was the worst decision he’ll ever make or the best one, but he sure as hell felt that it was the right one.

“We can’t talk here.” he muttered, fumbling with his phone once it was pulled out of his pocket. “We can go back to mine.”

Her focus falters, eyes looking at anything but him. she hadn’t been there since…since she fucked up, to put it simply. Her nerves were on the verge of snapping into an anxiety attack.

The car ride to Harry’s house was...well, she couldn’t think of anything more awkward. Except the first moment they had stepped inside his house. Neither of them bothered to get their things out of the back of his car, the luggage quickly forgotten.

It was evident that his energy was extremely low. The discoloration under his eyes was evident and it made her want to cry. She watches in agony as he trudged over to the fireplace mantle, fingertips padding the glass of the frame. Inside was a photo taken when he had taken you on a trip to Norway last October. The two of you were dressed in some cozy pajamas, cuddling on the sofa as Harry took the picture with his camera.

“They weren’t rumors, if you were wondering.”

Her heart aches at his words. She remembered the headlines that ripped at her heart. Tears started to well up in her eyes, intently listening to the broken boy in front of her.

“I was alone, would try and drink ‘til they looked like you.”

Look at me. I’m right here, look at me.

“Said your name.” he murmurs, eyes focused down to where he’s fumbling with his hands. “Didn’t mean too, slipped out.”

Don’t cry, please don’t cry.

“Please look at me.” she cries, desperately trying to reach him, her Harry. “Look at me.”

“Can’t.” he’s shaking his head, locks flopping in front of his face. “I...I-I can’t-”

“Why not.” only a mere second passes by and it’s already too deafening for her to bear. “Tell me.”

“Because, you-” he gulps down a cry but tears are still filling his waterline. “You.”

It feels like time is frozen, like the only thing happening in the entire universe is this conversation.

“What?”

“You.” he looks up and locks his eyes with hers. “It’s you, s’always gonna be you. There’s never gonna be anyone else.”

She takes a step towards him, but he backs away and she swears he flinches and it breaks her heart.

“No, no, no. Y’don’t get t’do tha’. Don’ touch me.”

His words stung like venom inking through her veins.

“H-”

“No!” his eyes turn cold. “If you touch me, I...I won’t make it, I swear. Just- please.”

Just let me love you.

“I…” It’s too much for her to look at him, but she has to say it. He’s quiet, waiting for her to finish.

“I’m sorry.” she cries out, squeezing her eyes closed. “I’m so sorry, I fucked up.”

“Look at me.”

He repeats her previous words. Maybe it’s out of spite, but could she blame him? Not in the slightest.

“You left me!” he snaps. “Why? What…” his chest is rising and falling faster than he can keep up with. “I’ve barely slept since you left, tryin’ t’think of what I did that was so awful.”

Guilt pangs through her as she watches him run his fingers through his hair in frustration, eyes averting to the floor.

“All I’ve ever done was treat y’like a princess,” he murmurs, kicking at the rug beneath his feet. “Sure, we were apart a lot, but I was starting fresh. We finally had time to do anythin’ we wanted. I thought you, of all people, would’ve wanted that.”

“I did, I-I still do.”

“You’ve got a funny way of showin’ it.”

She stayed silent, so he chose to pipe up again.

“Why.”

If she doesn’t say it now, she’ll never say it. This is her once chance to fix things.

“You were talking about things...moving fast, too fast,” she speaks barely above a whisper, the chipped blue polish on her nails suddenly becoming quite interesting. “And with everything that people were saying,”

“Know y’had a hard time, I know tha’. But I thought we worked through it. Then I wake up and you’re gone.”

“I got scared.” he sits down next to her as she’s talking.

“Y’could’ve bloody told me tha’.” relief washes over him, but the temporary emotion is making him forget that the damage had already been done. “Would’ve understood.”

“I know.” she cried. “I panicked, and once I’d left, I felt like I couldn’t come back. I was so scared.”

“Y’can always come back t’me.” his voice is soft and he resists the urge to brush his thumb across her cheek. “I fuckin’ love you. Y’know that. Fuck’s sake, I was calling you, begging you for something.” he pried, not caring to wipe his eyes, now irritated from crying. “Why? Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

Tears spilled onto your cheeks as you tried to apologize. “I wanted to. I don’t know why I didn’t, I’m so sorry.”

“I want you to tell me everything. Tell me what scares you so we can work through those things together. Don’t just...don’t just leave.”

“It never should’ve happened that way.” she admits. “But I think maybe we just found each other at the wrong time.” she offers, and his eyes flicker to her face when he feels her fingertips graze his own. “Maybe someday, the time’ll be right for us.”

He loves her. Regardless of what she’s put him through, he loves her.

“Tha’ time could be right now.” he speaks softly, moving his hand to hold hers. “For us.”

She looks up into his eyes, filled with hope and she moves her hands ever so slightly into his hold and he’s holding both of them now, and they're looking into each other’s eyes.

“You think so?”

He nods, squeezing his grip gently. “Know so.” he brings her hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to them. “We can make it.”

#hs1 masterlist #harry styles angst #harry styles writings

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amintyworld · 3 years

Text

Secrets - Dream SMP Drabble

WATERFALL (Part one) SUNSET (Part two)

A/N: Part 3 is finally here! So, bit of a update - this is indeed NOT the final part as I had planned, since there’s so much I want to cover about my own little backstory about two these two lovebirds, including how they get to the SMP. So, more parts to come, be on the lookout! Also, if you haven’t already, links to the two other parts should be above, please check them out if you’d like! Anyway, as always, enjoy!

TW: Arguing, secrets, surprise pregnancy, miscommunication, vomiting, cursing, roughhousing, injury (Not vv bloody tho). (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)

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

“Alright boys, get down here, breakfast is ready!” Philza heard scampering and thudding footsteps on the stairs as both Tommy and Tubbo raced to the table, smiling and laughing all the way. Wilbur walked down next, the only one out of their pajamas as he sat with his notebook in front of him, scribbling ideas, notes, and lyrics. Technoblade was last, not exactly the morning person of the group, as he passed by his two younger siblings and ruffed their hair lovingly before sitting down with a yawn. Phil quickly set eggs in front of each of them, a warm loaf of bread at the center the baker delivered early in the morning. Techno murmured a sleepy ‘thanks’ as Philza set down a cup of coffee with his plate, and Wilbur got up to grab some orange juice for him and Tubbo, leaving it out so Tommy could pour his own as he insisted.

It was a nice feeling in the mornings with his boys, sitting and eating a nice breakfast as the sun began to rise over the horizon. Philza mused over just how much changed over the last few years - they adopted Tubbo, Technoblade and Wilbur were becoming adults - but yet, things still felt the same. The little family was silent as they ate, enjoying each other’s company as the world began to wake up just outside their windows.

Tubbo, to Philza’s relief, was not as chaotic as the rest of his siblings and was all around a responsible and kind soul - at least when he was alone. When Philza walked inside to Tommy and Tubbo covered head to toe in bee stings due to ‘showing dominance over the bees so they’ll be our pets’, he learned quickly that the two younger brothers together would spur on all kinds of trouble. Luckily, he was used to it from the elder two when they were around Tommy and Tubbo’s age. Philza chuckled remembering when Techno and Wilbur tried to corner that parrot to only run home with nothing but a bunch of scratches, bruises, and covered in feathers - he’d snapped a picture before they both cleaned up, both pink from embarrassment.

“So, I’ll be off today checking in and fixing up the garden, going into town for a while, and then going fishing if I have the time. I should be home by around sunset, though.” Philza declared, taking a swig of his morning coffee.

“Me and Tubbo are gonna go find Mothman and catch a couple of pet bees,” Tommy said. As Philza opened his mouth to respond, Tubbo interrupted.

“We’ll take our swords and be back by sunset.” Tubbo finished. “And we’ll make sure to follow the path and not get lost.”

Philza chuckled. “Good.” He smiled.

“Techno and I were gonna train for a bit - I think I’m getting close to beating him.” Wilbur said, and a loud ‘HA’ erupted from his older brother.

“You wish,” Techno smirked. “The day you beat me one on one is the day I give up eating potatoes.” The pig hybrid did love himself a baked potato, and Philza knew that all too well. Chatter spurred on amongst the family, and Philza just smiled, taking in the moment.

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

“Jeez, is Techno some kind of mega pig demon?” Sally said, sitting cross-legged on the floor of her treehouse, across from Wilbur who looked a little worse for wear. “He went way too rough with you.”

“He didn’t mean to, he just got carried away.” Wilbur defended. “He felt really bad after, I kept telling him it was fine.” Wilbur let out a soft curse as the disinfectant soaked cloth ran over a particularly deep cut on his forehead, and Sally rubbed circles on the top of his hand in a loving gesture.

“Wil, it’s not fine, you got really hurt.” Sally’s tone turned serious, and Wilbur intertwined their fingers together.

“You’re scared.”

“No shit I am!” Sally yelled angrily before she took a deep breath to calm herself, continuing.. “Wilbur, sure you’re fine now but what if you got worse, and he didn’t stop? What if you got really hurt?”

“I know, I didn’t mean to worry you.” Wilbur gently squeezed her hand. “I promise we’ll be more careful.”

Sally placed a bandage on the cut on his forehead and planted a soft kiss on it. “Thank you.” Wilbur cracked a smirk as she faced him fully again.

“How bad’s the damage?”

Sally smiled back. “Just some bruises and cuts, a few days of healing and you’ll be fine. Don’t worry, you still look handsome.”

“Good thing, too,” Wilbur said jokingly. “My face and my guitar’s all I got going for me.”

“Oh please, Beanie Boy.” Sally smiled as she moved to cuddle closer to him, and his arms wrapped around her until they were both comfortable against the wall, Sally’s head leaned against Wilbur’s chest, the girl all too careful in her movements to make sure she didn’t hurt her boyfriend’s many bruises. “Did you win, at least?”

“He called a draw,” Wilbur said. “But, I did manage to use that weapon snatching tactic you taught me.” He laughed a bit. “He totally freaked.”

“Good,” Sally chuckled. “Someone’s gotta keep that pig on his toes.” Sally felt Wilbur shift a bit as he tensed. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just sore,” Wilbur said. “Why do I have a feeling I’m gonna regret most of the fight in the morning?” They both chuckled at the comment.

“I’m sorry, Do you want me to kiss it better?” Sally asked, looking up to her boyfriend in time to see a slight telltale pink on his cheeks. He nodded as Sally shifted to sit up more and began leaving some kisses along his arms wherever she saw a bruise, before leaning in to give him a soft peck on the lips where a small bruise was beginning to form.

“It’s almost sunset, I gotta get home or Phil will kill me,” Wilbur said, before tucking a long piece of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be back tomorrow, though.”

“Good, someone’s gotta help me refill my stash of supplies,” Sally said, smirking. “I’m all out of beetroot for bruise cream, if you haven’t heard.”

“Will do, my salmon,” Wilbur said, getting up, grabbing his sword, bag, and beanie before heading to the entrance.

“Be careful heading back, you’re still healing.”

“Gosh, you sound like Phil.” Wilbur chided sarcastically before Sally gave him a look. “I’ll be careful, I swear.” Wilbur pulled Sally in for a close embrace, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “I love you, my salmon.”

“Love you, Wilby.” At the rarely used nickname, Wilbur’s heart melted as he muttered a simple ‘bye’ and climbed down the ladder.

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

Sally didn’t understand what was going on, and she was mostly kind of scared. Standing over a bucket and puking as the sun rose up was not exactly a great sign. Neither was the weird soreness. Maybe she had some kind of flu or something? Either way, one thing was for sure - she didn’t like this, at all. Being a survivor and runner for years on end, she prided herself for being pretty healthy and knowing a lot of good healing tips and tricks to not slow herself down. Now, she felt ashamed. Weak.

She hoped it was just the flu. Grimacing, she swallowed the medicine and took some water and a snack on her way out - She didn’t want to be late for work. Her hair was a bit of a mess and she chewed a bit of mint to disguise the bad breath she gained from this morning. She felt awful but pushed the feeling aside. It must just be a bug or something, had to be.

When she was old enough, she started looking for a job in town to get some money and not have to worry about hunting every night. Sure, Phil always had a spot for her at the table, but even Sally knew how much he was stretched to the limit feeding five. Luckily, she found a pretty cushiony job at the trade center - where she and a handful of others settled disputes over what was a fair trade and what wasn’t.

As she worked she headed to steady herself every now and then when she felt sick or lightheaded. It just got worse as the days went on, and it got too much for her to ignore. She left early on sick leave and made a quick stop at the library before heading home, determined to figure out what was going on with her and fix it in whatever way possible. She settled in bed with some hot tea and opened the book: ‘Easy to Spot Ailments Hidden in Plain Sight’. At this point, she was fed up feeling horrible and just wanted it to end. Her head ached, her stomach churned with any bit of food she tried to get down. Her shaking hands flipped through the pages as she looked for what matched her list of symptoms in her head - Nausea, light-headedness, fatigue…

‘Pregnancy, in the early stages, is common to have morning sickness, fatigue, tender or sore muscles…’

Her eyes widened at the thought… pregnant…? She scanned the page intently and as it were - most of her symptoms she’d been suffering the past few weeks were right there. Her mind whirred with the thought of the possibility. Wilbur was still trying to find a job in town, and they haven’t even gotten their own space yet - they definitely were not ready. The shapeshifter’s thoughts turned to Wil - if it was really the case, how would he react? Maybe he’ll be done with her for good because of it, they took precautions but not enough, she didn’t do enough to stop herself from getting into this position. Wilbur wouldn’t be ready yet, she isn’t either - maybe he’ll ditch her for his own survival.

She wouldn’t blame him.

It took her a few moments to realize she was crying. Her head was clouded with so many doubts, fears and what ifs she didn’t even notice. She wiped her tears away. She needed to keep a clear head, she needed to stay calm. Maybe she wasn’t even pregnant, she had to check with the town healer to make sure. There was probably nothing to worry about anyway, and she’d have gotten so worked up over nothing!

Now, looking over the positive pregnancy test in the healer’s hut, all she could think was: ‘Shit.’

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

Wilbur strummed a bit on his guitar as he sat cross-legged in his bed, Sally snuggled up in blankets next to him, humming constantly. “Have you been writing, Wil?”

“A bit.” Wilbur smiled. “Nothing concrete yet, I’m afraid.” Sally pouted slightly, her lower lip out just so, dramatic enough to make both of them laugh. “Sorry to disappoint, my number one fan. Maybe I could make it up by playing a song request…?”

“Love your songs, Wilby.” Sally said as she nuzzled to his side and he smiled.

“I know, my salmon.” Wilbur crooned as he planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “Now, what song do you wanna hear?”

“Hm… what about the pretty soft one?”

“You never remember the names, do you?” Wilbur joked as he checked and tuned up the instrument. Sally laughed.

“Never.” Sally said. “Luckily I don’t have to.” Wilbur began to strum a soft tune as he sang softly with the music, and Sally drank it all in with a smile, her heart feeling full.

“You and I

We’re different but somehow we fit.

And I promise you

No matter what, I’ll never quit.

Because you are the good days,

The tough days,

When I feel like I can’t breathe,

I love you, I hope you like me.”

Sally began to sing along as well, and when the song was done, Wilbur put his guitar down and cuddled Sally close. He wrapped his arms around her until she was completely comfortable and they both laid there, just content in each other’s arms. Though Wilbur could tell she was happy, he also could tell something else was up - she fidgeted every now and then, seemingly never comfortable. He knew her well enough to know when something was bothering her - the way her eyes focused too much on the blanket, lost in thought and her eyebrows furrowed were her telltale signs. “Okay, what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing’s on my mind, I’m just tired.”

“You’re fidgeting, you’re staring into space - did something happen at work?” Wilbur asked, concerned. “If anyone’s bothering you-”

“No, no. Nothing’s going on at work.” Sally said. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Wilbur asked, and he couldn’t help but notice her hesitation.

“Yes…” She said before she looked around the room a bit, her body fidgeting more violently. “Where’s the bathroom again…?”

“Just down the hall.” Wilbur grew concerned as he noticed her shaking body rush out of the room. Did… did he do something wrong…? He heard the door quickly slam, and he couldn’t help but replay the events in his head over and over. Did he make her uncomfortable? Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to cuddle her, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.

“You okay?” Wilbur looked up to see Philza standing in the doorway casually, looking a bit concerned. That’s when WIlbur noticed how hard he was gripping the blanket on the bed, staring off into space.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I dunno if she is, though.” Wilbur said.

“I heard the slam.” Philza stated.

“Phil, how do you know if someone’s uncomfortable around you?” Wilbur asked, and Phil’s eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“I guess it depends on the person, sometimes you can tell by their body language... Why?”

“Sally’s been off, she’s not acting like herself. I’m worried about her, I know something’s causing her to be like this, and I dunno if it’s me.” Wilbur said honestly, and Philza’s face turned to a warm comforting smile.

“It’s not you, Wil. I know she loves you just as much as you love her.” Philza said, certain.

“If it’s not me…” WIlbur started. “Then what is it?”

“I don’t know, if I’m honest. But i wouldn’t worry too much over it, okay? I’m sure she’ll tell you what’s going on when she’s ready to.” Phil reassured him. As he told his son, he too tried to keep his worries at bay. He didn’t want to get in the middle of his son’s love life, but if something really bad was happening to the shapeshifter, Phil wanted to help.

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

Philza tried to stay calm as the girl broke down into tears over the two words that spilled over her lips. Part of him wanted to scream, to scold… they were both in their early twenties, but Phil still saw them as kids, kids who didn’t know what to do and were too young to be parents yet. He was mad at them for not being careful, he was upset that Sally felt the need to hide it, and most of all he felt scared for both of them. For the first time in his life, Phil couldn’t protect them. He couldn’t just pull out his sword and fight it all and make all the monsters and scary things go away, and it scared him. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second to process, before handing the crying girl a tissue, doing his best to calm her.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I… I felt so ashamed that I let this happen, I-” Sally’s voice shook. “If Wilbur knew, he’d probably leave, I-”

“Hey.” Phil’s voice was stern but soft. “You couldn’t have done anything to prevent this, it isn’t your fault, okay?” Sally looked to the floor. Phil rubbed her trembling shoulders as a few moments of silence passed between the two. Phil looked firm. “You’ve gotta tell him.”

“No… no I can’t…” Sally said, images flashing through her head of his disgusted face, glaring at her coldy, telling her that if she really cared and respected him, loved him, she would have been more careful, telling her that he wasn’t willing to get dragged down into her mess, so she’ll just have to deal with it.

“Sally, he’s gonna figure it out eventually. Would it be better if you told him, or if he figured out you kept it from him too late?” Philza said.

“He’s done so much for me, I don’t want to burden him with this. He doesn’t deserve to pay for my mistake.” Sally said softly.

“But it’s not your mistake, it’s not ‘your’ anything, you can’t blame yourself for this.”

“Then who can I blame, Phil? Why did this happen, then?!” Sally snapped. “What am I supposed to do now… what can I do now?!” Silence once again engulfed the room as Phil sat and slowly took the shapeshifter’s hands in his.

“You know, when I figured out I was going to be a Dad, I was so scared. I was 22 with no stable job, moving from place to place, living off the land, that’s no way to raise a family.” Philza said, staring into space as he spoke, recalling the memory. “I learned a lot, then - like some things happen without a reason… bad things, but also really good things. Amazing things. And, I know that even now, I’m still scared about it all, but I know you’ll both get through it together just fine. You care too much about each other to let anything get in the way of that.” His gentle expression met hers. “What you’re gonna do now, is you’re going to breathe, finish your cup of tea, and relax. Then when Wilbur comes back from getting the honey with Tommy and Tubbo, you’re gonna look him in the eyes and tell him, even if you’re scared. Because as much as you’re afraid of losing him, he’s afraid of losing you, too.”

Sally swallowed thickly, nodding. “Then what?”

“Then, we’ll figure everything out together, okay?” Phil took his own tea cup in his hands and sipped, looking out the window as the sun began to set. Sally, with shaking breaths, sipped her tea as well as the two sat in a comfortable silence. When the door opened and shouts erupted from the hallway, Phil gave Sally’s hand one final squeeze before getting up and taking their empty tea cups to the kitchen.

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

“Go. Take your mind off everything for a bit.” Philza had told him as he practically pushed him out the front door. “You can’t just be anxious, worried and cooped up in your room over a girl. Take a break.” When he tried to protest, Philza put his hand up, silencing him. “Besides, Techno’s too busy today to go with them, and someone’s gotta make sure they get home in one piece. Enjoy yourself and have fun, okay?”

Now, sitting under the cover of a bush, all three of them - Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo - looked over toward the bee’s nest. “Okay, what’s the plan here?” Tubbo asked, and Tommy smiled, a plan already forming in his mind.

“Okay, so you lure all the bees out with some flowers, while Wilbur and I get the honey. If it backfires..” Tommy hit his fist against his hand. “We’ll hit ‘em with Plan B.”

“What’s Plan B..?” WIlbur asked curiously.

“Well, it's a highly complicated-” Tubbo began.

“-and a simplistic plan that has always gotten us out of trouble so far.” Tommy said, which did not do much to help Wilbur’s new worries over Plan B.

Tubbo picked a huge pile of lilies and daisies and nervously walked closer while Tommy gave him a thumbs up from behind the bush. “You got this, Bee Whisperer!” He hashly said softly, while Wilbur looked over to him.

“Are you sure this is safe?” WIlbur said, looking over at Tubbo, ready to tackle him to the ground if things went south. “I know bees like flowers, but I’m pretty sure they can tell the difference-”

“Oh yeah, Tubbo’s got this.” Tommy reassured him. “He’s the Bee Whisperer, after all.” A large glass jar landed with a ‘thunk’ on the soft grass. “You’ll hold the jar while I get the honey.”

“Do you even know how to get honey from the nest?” Wilbur asked, and Tommy looked confused.

“Yeah, you just stick your hand in, and-”

“No, nope, we’re not doing that.” WIlbur said. “You’re holding the jar, I’m getting the honey.” He looked over the bush, and to his surprise, the bees flew around Tubbo peacefully, landing on the flowers he held as Tubbo let out a weird buzzing noise from his mouth. Huh - the Bee Whisperer… cool.

Tommy muttered angrily in protest as he hauled the jar over at his signal, and Wilbur picked up a stick and slowly began to put globs of honey in the jar.

“Is the reason I’m not doing it because of your women problems?”

“Shut up, Tommy-” Wilbur harshly said under his breath, trying to focus. “You’ll alert the bees.”

“Well excuse me for trying to distract myself, this thing’s heavy-”

“Shut up.” Wilbur muttered angrily. Sure, it was kind of harsh, but he was the one who was complaining. They were about halfway done filling the jar when a few bees began to fly back to the nest, and Tubbo tried to call them back to no avail.

“I think it’s time for Plan B, Wil-”

“No, it’s just a few bees, Tommy…”

One bee in particular decided to land on Tommy’s nose, and that was it. “PLAN B!” He shouted as he capped the honey jar and gave it to Wilbur as he noticed all the bees begin to run back to the nest, sensing danger. Wilbur pushed him away from the nest. “Run!”

Well, Wilbur did not need to be told twice. He rushed away as Tubbo ran after him toward their hiding place in the bush. Tommy followed soon after, covered in honey and bee stings, his hands particularly sticky. Wilbur looked over to see the nest destroyed. He flicked Tommy’s forehead. “That was a terrible plan, you idiot!”

“Ow!” Tommy rubbed the spot a bit as it burned in pain. “Hey, it worked didn’t it? We’re all safe.”

“You can’t just punch away all your problems!” Wilbur shouted. “You could have gotten really hurt!”

“I’m sorry.” Tommy said quietly, looking bothered by his older brother’s tone. Wilbur sighed, his arms crossed. Though it was good to let his frustrations out, he shouldn’t have snapped at him - Tommy was far from the one who’d been aggravating him recently. Tubbo looked at the two, then to the jar.

“Well hey,” He said, smiling, trying to lighten the tense mood. “Look at how much honey we’ve got.” He moved the almost full jar in front to show off. “This has gotta be enough honey for the bee farm, Phil’s gonna be impressed - we make a pretty good team.” Tommy brightened a bit at his friend’s words, though still kind of hurt, and moved to take the jar from Tubbo.

“We should be heading back, the sun's almost down.” Tommy said as he stood, picked up the jar and walked off, Tubbo close behind, and then Wilbur at the back.

Wilbur would be lying if he said the past few weeks had been easy - he tried his best to just stay calm, but every time without fail Sally would always rush away, or snap at him. If she was upset with him, he wished she’d just tell him instead of playing this stupid guessing game. He felt like he was walking on eggshells around her, and he hated it. He didn’t like all this secrecy, he didn’t like not being able to just talk with her the way they used to. He was upset and angry with Sally, he just wanted to know what’s going on, is that such a hard thing to ask?

He scoffed to himself - he was supposed to be keeping his mind off it, but he couldn’t even do that. He couldn’t even relax when things were so tense with her, how pathetic is that…?

“Wilbur?”

“...What?” He asked, snapped out of his thoughts by Tubbo, who pointed ahead.

“This is the right direction, right?”

“I’m not Techno, but… I think…” He looked around, scrambling for some familiar landmark. Tommy was in front, uncharacteristically quiet. Then, he spotted a rotten tree log, and it clicked in his mind where they were. “Yes, just a bit that way.” He moved toward the front, and Tommy kept his eyes forward. Feeling awkward, Wilbur touched the sft fabric of his beanie, taking in his hands and running his fingers over it, taking a breath before finally breaking the silence.

“Look, I’m sorry for snapping at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Tommy’s eyes were fixated on the jar for now. “You’ve been so off lately, and I just thought maybe if we dragged you on some crazy adventure, I’d get you back. But it still followed us, I don’t understand… is it me?”

“No, I… it isn’t, Tommy.” Wilbur said, focusing on the knitted stitches as he formed the words to say. “I’ve just been- Things with me and Sally have been... complicated, recently. Still, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“So, you really are having women problems.” Tommy’s tone was serious, an oddity for the usually joking teen. “You really care about her a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah… yeah, I do.” Wilbur breathed.

“No wonder. I haven’t seen you this torn up about anyone in… in well, forever.” Tommy smiled, not joking or smirking, but just smiled. “We’re here for you, you know.”

“I know.” Wilbur smiled as the two made eye contact. “Thank you, Tommy.”

“Does this mean you’re not mad at each other anymore?” Tubbo asked from behind them, and the two brothers smiled.

“Yeah, yeah I think we’re done.” Tommy said as Tubbo wrapped his arms around both of his brothers shoulders with a relieved smile.

“Good, because I did not want to be walking home in that awkward silence for another hour.” With that, laughter erupted from all three.

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

Philza smiled, eyebrows raised in a bit of surprise as he took the jar of honey from Tommy, looking at his condition. “Should I even ask?”

“We used Plan B.” Tubbo said with a smile, making Tommy smirk.

“I punched a thing.” Tommy said confidently, and Philza laughed.

“Go get cleaned up, both of you - and don’t forget to apply that sting cream.” The two boys marched to the bathroom as Philza set their prized jar on the counter. Back in the living room, Wilbur’s gut ached uncomfortably as Sally walked toward him, giving him a sad smile.

“Hey.” Her hands found their way into his and their fingers interlocked. It felt… nice.

“Hey.”

“Do you, uh… can we talk? Alone?”

“Uh… yeah, yeah. Okay.”

Sally’s hands never left his as they sat down on his bed in his room, the door closed behind them. Though for the past few weeks Wilbur had so much he wanted to say to his girlfriend, now he couldn’t seem to find any words as they just sat in silence for a few moments. The fur on Sally’s ears and tail stood on end, and she took a deep breath, looking at their hands as she finally spoke.

“Okay, Wil… there’s something I’ve gotta tell you.”

Wilbur’s heart felt uneasy by your nervousness, worries filling his mind of finally figuring out the truth… and if he didn’t like what it was. If Sally decided to break up with him - all the uncomfortableness would make so much sense, why would she drag it out for this long… he really hoped it wasn’t that, but… it seemed more and more probable.

“You’ve probably noticed I’ve been acting weird, right?” She asked as he nodded. “Well, remember when I told you that I used to not be attached to anything, because I knew it could only lead to disaster?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well… I’m attached to you, a lot. I’ve realized it lately, and I’ve realized I don’t… I don’t want to lose you. I was so scared that if I told you, I would, and I… I love you too much to lose you, Wil.”

Is this what she’d been upset about?

“You’re never going to lose me, Sally. I promise…” He said, relaxing a bit as his mind whirred about the entire situation. He kissed her forehead softly as he pulled her in for a comforting embrace. “I promise I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Sally smiled, beginning to relax a bit more, but still a bit nervous. “That’s why it’s been so hard to tell you, Wil.”

“Tell me what?”

Sally took another deep breath. “Wilbur, I’m pregnant.”

Wilbur blinked a few times, trying to process what his girlfriend had just said. Pregnant. She… she was pregnant. That was not what he was expecting her to tell him in the slightest. But, it did explain some things - her frequent bathroom trips, for one. His mind slowly began to put the pieces together, how it made so much sense…

“You serious…?” He asked her, and she smiled, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“One hundred percent, Wilby.” Her voice shook with nervousness as she mustered a smile, not knowing what he’d do or say next. Wilbur broke out into a huge smile as he took Sally into his arms and spun her around as the two laughed, smiling. Wilbur was so relieved that it wasn’t what he thought, that it was the farthest thing from his worries. All the anxiety, the fear… it all went away. They both fell into the bed, smiling and laughing. Wilbur planted a soft kiss on Sally’s cheek as he moved to cuddle her tightly in his arms. “So… you’re not upset with me?”

“No, why would I?” Wilbur said. “Of course, I mean, it’s unexpected… but, we’ll get through it together.” His attention quickly turned to her, his relief turning quickly into concern. “Are… are you okay? I can’t imagine what you’re going through, if you even want the baby-”

“I’ve had lots of time to think about it.” Sally laughed. “And, I’ll admit I had mixed feelings at first - partly because of what you’d think, but partly because I’ve never even thought about kids, you know? It always seemed so far off.”

“Well, if you’re uncomfortable about it, we can always talk about other options, or…” Wilbur said, trying to reassure her.

“No. No… I…” Her eyebrows furrowed, and her ears flicked back and forth. “I think I wanna keep it.” She looked over to Wilbur as her hands found their way back into his. “I was so scared of losing everything that I kept this from you for so long… I don’t want to be scared anymore.” She laid her head against his chest, finding the words as her eyes were glued on their hands. “I want… I want you, Wilbur. I want this.”

“Are you sure, we don’t have to decide anything right now, I don’t want to pressure you-”

“Wilbur.” Sally reached up to cup his cheek with a comforting smile, feeling happy, relieved, and content. Of course, part of her was scared of the unknown, but Sally knew that what Phil had told her, what Wilbur told her was the absolute truth - she and Wilbur would get through it together. Her hand moved his over her stomach, and Wilbur couldn’t help but smile as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

You wouldn’t see it at first glance, but they were both absolutely terrified at the new adventure waiting for them. Yet, somehow, in each other’s arms, they felt safe, secure. Like they could do anything. I guess, looking to what would come next, that was more true than either of them would think.

#dream smp #dream smp drabble #dream smp fic #wilbur soot #sally the salmon #wilbur x sally #tubbolive #tubbo #tommyinnit #tommy #tommyinnit and tubbo #technoblade #dadza #philza #dadza philza #sleepy bois inc #pregnant sally the salmon #my writing

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secretobsessionstuff · 4 years

Note

LOVED Blair as sickie!!! More of those would be amazing!!! Could you write something with her having really bad period pains and getting sick from it??

The morning started like any other – with a sharp stabbing pain in her lower belly. Okay, so maybe not everyone’s typical morning but perhaps a prison inmate could understand the pain that Blair was feeling. She had barely opened her eyes before the ache was radiating throughout her entire body. At first it came all at once, like the burning sting just after taking a shot of vodka. Then the pain dulled to a constant throb, the way that too much vodka eventually produced hellish nausea.

Hellish nausea indeed. Blair curled in on herself and scrunched the blankets in her grip. Beside her, Dakota was just beginning to wake up. She heard him yawn, roll over, and mumble something about the beauty of Saturdays. You’ll forgive Blair if she couldn’t see the beauty of that particular morning.

“You awake, babe?” Dakota asked while kissing her shoulder. She was turned away, meaning he could not see the grimace on her face.

The only reply that Blair could muster was a low groan. She dreaded what was to come. Her body was barely awake at this point and it was already flooding her senses with hurt. This pain was not unfamiliar, but it arrived like a freight train every time.

Dakota stretched and bumped Blair’s back in the process. She let out a small whimper that he didn’t hear. It was like sharing a bed with an oblivious bear. He dragged his hand up the side of Blair’s warm body, wanting to hug her closer. As his hand glided closer to her belly, Dakota was treated to a very sudden reaction.

“Don’t touch me,” Blair whined and curled into a tighter ball. She swatted his hand away to replace it with a bundle of blankets.

Who needs coffee to wake up, Dakota thought! He was wide awake now. With his hands hovering in the air and an expression of alarm on his face, Dakota slowly sat up on bed. “Hey, hey, what’s going on, Bee?” The bed creaked as he tried to peer at her face. Unfortunately, her face was shoved into the mattress. “Did I cheat on you in your dreams? Because you know that dream me is not really me.” He chuckled, expecting at least a giggle but got nothing.

When Blair didn’t offer any sort of reaction, Dakota’s expression turned serious. He went to put his hand on her shoulder but stopped just before touching her. “Did I do something wrong?” It seemed quite unlikely given that he hadn’t even been awake for five minutes, but he learned to assume guilt until his innocence was confirmed. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”

“…no,” Blair mumbled. She squeezed her eyes shut and mustered all the strength she had to speak in full sentences. “It’s not you…it’s my tummy.”

“Your tummy?” Dakota had to suppress a smile; Blair never described her stomach in such an adorable way…well except when she – “Oh, I see…cramps.”

Finally, his girlfriend nodded, letting him know that he wasn’t completely clueless. As she nodded, her hair rubbed against the pillow and bunched up around her head. It was tangled mess of frozen knots, similar to how her internal organs were feeling just then.

“Are they really bad?” Dakota asked. Yeah this was a helpful thing to ask. He definitely was not scrambling for a way to comfort her. She nodded. Okay, okay, that was to be expected with the way Blair was hugging her midsection. “Can I get you the hot water bottle?”

“Yes, please.” Blair sniffled and swallowed hard. The mattress swayed like a waterbed as Dakota stood up, and it turned her stomach. “Wait.” she reached her hand out to grab Dakota’s wrist before he left. “And a bucket.”

The quest to find the hot water bottle was momentarily abandoned as Dakota took in the pained expression on his girlfriend’s face. Her request for a bucket came out so softly and weak that he couldn’t help but drop to the floor by her side of the bed. “Oh baby, you nauseous?” He brushed her hair away from face and touched the soft skin of her cheek. “That’s okay, I’m gonna get everything you need. I’m gonna make you feel better.”

Every time. Every time Dakota said something to that effect. It was always a promise that he would magically make the pain – that he knew nothing about – go away. And every time, there wasn’t much he could do other than sit with her until it passed. Blair appreciated it, nonetheless.

Before Dakota came back, Blair huffed out a sigh and walked to the bathroom. As she went down the hallway, she stood hunched over feeling like her uterus was being wrung out like a wet cloth. She tidied herself up, though still felt disgusting as she walked back to bed. It was going to be one of those days. A most unproductive and lazy day. Being vertical did nothing but shift the pain. The ache wrapped around her tummy and squeezed her lower back.

When Dakota returned, Blair was back in bed, lying perfectly still. He put the bucket on the floor by her head. He also invited Blair to sit up so she could take a sip of water with pain meds. She did so slowly.

“There you go,” Dakota said as he took back the glass of water and placed it on the bedside table. “Now lie back down.”

Blair did so and waited for Dakota to join her in bed. Like puzzle pieces they fit together nicely. Dakota was a hesitant puzzle piece because he didn’t want to hurt her. Slowly, he brought the hot water bottle to her lower stomach and held it there while they cuddled. As per usual, he was the big spoon but now his job was to keep pressure and warmth where she needed it.

“Is this good?” he asked.

Blair settled into a comfortable position. “Lower,” and she guided his hand down to where she needed the heat. It was a nice distraction from the twisting and the dull ache. The heat enveloped her lower belly, like the way Dakota’s body kept her warm. She put her hand over top of his, taking a moment to trace the veins on his hand.

The pain faded for a few moments, during which time Blair might’ve fallen asleep. If she did sleep, it was shallow. Dakota listened to her ragged breathing until it even out. He dared not move. It was as if a kitten were sleeping on him and his only job in the world was to keep her warm. Sadly, he could feel the water bottle cool down, and when that happened, Blair started fidgeting and shifting around restlessly.

“Ugh Kota…” Blair whined and wound herself into a deeper fetal position. “I feel so gross.”

“I’m sorry.”

She moaned and pressed the water bottle deeper into her abdomen. The water had cooled down, but she was still trying to extract the last of its heat. The nausea was back in full swing and nothing could quell it. “…’m queasy.”

“Should I refill the hot water bottle?”

“I dunno…” Blair really didn’t know. She just wanted to feel better, but that was sounding more and more like a dream.

Dakota bit his lip in worry. The only thing he knew what to do in this situation was to just get her stuff. But what kind of stuff did she need if she didn’t know herself? The water bottle had proven itself useful in the past, so why not now? “I’ll be right back.”

“Please don’t go.”

“Honey, I’ll be fast. I’m just going to heat this up again.”

“But…my belly hurts.”

Dakota chewed the skin on his thumb while listening to his girlfriend whimper. He must make it better. He must. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

Promises didn’t mean much when Blair’s sense of time was warped. Dakota could have been gone only a short while like he promised, but to Blair every minute felt like an eternity. She wished that Dakota had never left because she really didn’t want to be sick alone. Unfortunately, that’s how things were looking. There was a low throbbing pulse in her lower belly that sent waves of nausea lapping against the shores of her body.

There was no delaying it anymore. Her poor empty stomach didn’t realize that she had nothing to bring up, but it was going to try anyway. The human body must really think that all pain swims in the stomach and that vomiting is the quickest way to get rid of it. Blair knew that even if she threw up, the pain would not be expelled through her mouth. Oh well, her belly didn’t know that.

The organ churned and forced Blair onto her elbows. She hoped to God that the bucket was where she thought it was because she only had the energy to lean over the side of the bed and open her mouth. A harsh cramped seized her insides. Her abdominal muscles spasmed as she heaved a thin thread of saliva into the bucket.

Of course, that was when Dakota came back. “Oh no, okay…fuck, alright.” He tossed the hot water bottle onto to the bed because it wasn’t going to be much help at this point. And then he knelt by Blair’s head. Her weak little heaves caused her whole frame to shiver as she brought up frothy saliva. She was practically hanging off the bed with spit hanging from her lips. “I’m here, I’ve got you,” Dakota mumbled as he kept her from falling. He lifted the bucket off the floor and held it under her chin.

Like rag doll, Blair’s head lolled forward. “Kota, it’s really bad.” Her voice was echoed by the bucket. A dry heav tore up her throat, making her clutch her chest. “There’s nothing…uurp…in my tummy.”

“Shh, shh,” Dakota cooed as held Blair’s face in one hand. Her hair was tangled around his fingers. “Just let it happen. It’ll be over soon.”

“I hate th–” her sentence was cut off by another harsh retch that proved fruitless, as expected. Blair was glad that Dakota was holding the bucket for her because she was busy hugging her middle. She groaned as each heave caused her muscles to tighten painfully. It was a vicious cycle where the pain led to the vomiting, which caused more pain. By the end, Blair was drenched in sweat, her hands were shaking, and her pelvic muscles felt like limp noodles still burning from exertion.

“Are you finished, baby?” Dakota asked as brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I think so.” Blair fell back against the headboard with a sigh. “I’m tired, and still achy.”

Dakota clicked his tongue against his teeth. “What can I do?”

Blair extended her arms out as if asking for a hug. “Just cuddle with me.”

“I can do that,” he answered while setting aside the bucket. “I can do that very well, you’ll find.”

Dakota was right. He was a great pillow. He put his arm around Blair’s shoulder, and she curled her body against his side. With her head on his chest, she fell asleep to the rhythmic pattern of his breathing. Dakota kissed the top of his girlfriend’s head, hoping that she’d sleep for the next three days

#emeto #emeto fic #emetophilia #Blair #Dakota #sickfic #nausea #puking #puke #period pain #pain induced #cramps #my ocs

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socctime · 3 years

Text

Croods: A New Age Spoilers!!!

Ok, so I just watched this for the first time a couple days ago and I've rewatched it a few times since. But honestly I don't really like how the relationship issue between Guy and Eep plays out.

Also I would like to point out the ages I found for them puts Eep and Guy, BOTH at 19 years old

I get he was in the wrong for some of his comments, but Eep doesn't own up to doing anything wrong at all. It's all on guy to say "Sorry it was my fault." and take full responsibility.

The first thing that could be considered hostile/passive aggressive is when Guy recommends trying the shower, the first time, when we see it played out it comes out more like "I really enjoyed this thing/experience and I want to share that with you." but when he's remembering it later on it's with a much more condescending tone. I don't know if that was supposed to be how he thought it might have sounded or if it was to try and make more of a jerk so he was deserving of Eep snapping at him?

The next big thing is when Guy catches Eep and Dawn trying to sneak back in after their joy ride. It has literally been one day since they arrived, and Eep has already broken a rule of the Bettermans (even though they are kinda shitty and manipulative but they don't know this yet) by taking Dawn outside of the wall. Guy is upset and frustrated, because the Bettermans made it clear that they only built the wall for protection after what happened to Guy and his parents. So in his eyes it's reasonable to stay inside, and he's probably worried about how the Bettermans will react if they find out what happened.

Also once Guy finds out that Dawn had a very severe bee sting after one joy ride outside the wall, he gets more exasperated when Eep keeps insisting that it's fine despite the fact that Dawn is clearly not ok. When Guy berates her after Dawn almost passes out, saying it wasn't smart and Dawn could've been seriously hurt, and that Eep needs to think about these things, Eep gets upset.

She deflects by asking Guy why he's acting how he is, doesn't he like adventure? Guy responds that no he likes not dying, and things are different now. (most likely because he feels more safe than he has been in a while, with literally traveling by himself since his parents died and the constant danger the Croods were in we were shown in the first part of the movie)

Eep then explains that Dawn needed to get out, that she's just like her, and the walls are her cave. Mind you Guy hasn't really talked to Dawn at all that we've been shown just followed her around and helped with her chores a bit, he seemed to mostly just explore the tree house. Eep doesn't really go into further detail other than her and Dawn grew up similar. Guy, who has just been told that not only did they go on a joy ride outside, but Dawn was injured in that short time and Eep keeps insisting everything is fine, snaps and says Dawn and Eep are not similar because Dawn isn't a Cave Girl.

Now I do think Guy could have phrased it better or handled it a bit different, I don't think he meant Cave Girl in a derogatory way, but it came across that way. I think he meant it more as in Dawn isn't as tough as you are but it came out more hurtful. Eep then decides once Guy brings Dawn up in the elevator she'll give him a Cave Girl

Guy probably not wanting to get anyone in trouble tries to hide the fact that Dawn is injured, first by trying to avoid the dinner table altogether then by sitting next to her at the table to try and hide her hand/the bee sting from site. Eep then finishes climbing the tree after Guy and is hostile towards Guy. Which I get she was hurt by his words, but after confronting Guy about how he sounded and what's wrong with Cave people? He says "There's nothing wrong with Cave people."

Eep is very passive aggressive here after eating quite messily/ breaking a jug after drinking all the contents. When Guy asks why she's acting that was she claims to be acting like a Cave Girl, then claiming that it's not good enough for him anymore, which Guy immediately denies.

Phil then cuts in about the "deal" he and Grug made about the Bettermans keeping Guy while the Croods keep Eep and leave. Then a whole argument between both families break out, Guy tries to cut in but gets yelled at by everyone. After a bit more shouting Grug tells Guy to get up because they're leaving.

Guy in disbelief repeats that Grug wanted to get rid of him, but now wants to bring him with? Grug then (poorly) defends that Guy wanted to take his daughter away, throwing the promises Guy had made to Eep early on in the film back in his face. Guy reasonably pissed says to Grug "there is no privacy with you people." Eep then cuts in "Cave People?" Which Guy quickly responds "That's not what I said." He then says things are better now, which Eep seems to take offense to. He clarifies not starving, and no sleep pile, when asked to clarify the sleep pile he yells that it reeks.

(The only sleep pile previously shown in the movie showed his discomfort with it before he goes to sleep. Upon waking up in the morning it's shown he was squished under Chunky and he groans "Another glorious morning," before getting stepped on by Chunky.)

Eep takes offense to the diss on the sleep pile, and then says at least she smells like herself and she doesn't know what Guy smells like. Claiming she doesn't even know who he is anymore. Eep then says that it's this place, and before she can think of a proper work for how much she hates it Guy says "It's home!"

Guy says it's Tommorow it's what his parents wanted him to find! Eep declares she clearly doesn't belong in this Tomorrow, and that she's leaving asking if Guy is coming with her. He says he can't, in a small voice, Eep then returns his proposal rock and leaves.

Once again!! They have been at the Bettermans house/farm/compound for a SINGLE DAY!!! Guy has just been reunited with his long lost family friends, he feels safe and clean, for the first time in a long time probably. Life on the road with the Croods is still very dangerous, and he is not built as durable as they are, and he knows this! If the time at the Bettermans had been more drawn out over the course of a few days or weeks Eep's argument would work better. As it stands it's been a single day and Guy also just learned that Grug still doesn't like him enough to not try to give him up the first time someone asks for him.

When Guy is cooling down from the argument he even says he's been staying with the Croods for a while, and I'm going to assume based off what he says to himself. That he generally likes to keep clean, and the Croods don't really do that. So after however long of traveling he's somewhere he can wash up, relax and not worry about predators or dying suddenly, a single day later he learns Grug is trying to get rid of him Eep doesn't care about the consequences of her actions, the Croods want to leave and nobody will hear him out. The Betterman adults are manipulative, Grug doesn't like him enough to not get rid of him, (he didn't really interact with Ugga this movie). He literally has nobody in his corner except for Dawn, kinda, she tries to understand why Eep suddenly says Guy is too different from herself to get along with. Dawn points out that herself and Eep are different but they get along, so why? Eep avoids answering and says it's complicated. Guy after moping in captivity for a bit realizes he was an ass and has flash backs of things he said to Eep. Except they're in a completely different tone of voice or completely lacking context, making it seem like they really wanted him to be solely in the wrong by the end of the movie.

So in the end Guy apologizes and makes up with Eep. But she never ever thinks about what she did, like none of the rules she applied to Guy apply to her? Like he got upset after Dawn's bee sting, and calls Eep a Cave Girl in a tone of voice that sounds derogatory, he's in the wrong, and she has a reason to be upset. But when she upsets him with words or actions, or purposefully taking his words out of context to make him upset or confused, he's not justified in being hurt or angry, he is still in the wrong. I just don't think it's really fair, I would feel different if there had been more effort on Eep's side to also make amends or at least it wasn't portrayed as Guy is the only wrong one.

I do think Guy and Eep are cute together, but it just made it seem they aren't on equal footing or whatever it's called.

I hope this makes sense, it got a bit rambly.

#the croods: a new age #the croods #guy the croods #guy crood #eep crood #ugga crood #grug crood #dawn betterman #phil betterman #hope betterman #dreamworks #this got kinda long #and a bit ranty #just my take i guess

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imnotoverlyobsessive · 3 years

Text

Looks Like Someone Picked a Whole Bushel of Oopsie Daisies: Chapter Three

Okaaaay I am so fucking sorry it's been awhile, you guys. But you're not here for my life story and personal bullshit, I'm sure (though please do feel free to ask). So here's chapter three. Enjoy... I hope?

Thank you, as always, to @edward-or-ford for being an excellent beta!

Chapter Three: Sex on the Brain Feel you under my skin; middle of the night, wonder if you feel it, too.- All Time Low, Trouble Is

There was a warm body atop Mabel’s, and lips pressed against hers. There were hands grasping her breasts, then one of them traveled down between her legs.

“Mabel,” gasped a voice as the lips traveled down her neck. A pleasant voice. Deep, but not alarmingly so. It was soothing, familiar. Comforting and arousing all at the same time.

One hand pinched her nipple while the other stroked her, and she gasped out quietly.

When she opened her eyes, Dipper leaned down to kiss her again, and-

Mabel woke with a start, disorientated. Her eyes flitted around the dark room, and she remembered she was at Candy’s. Recognizing Grenda’s sleeping form on the floor and Candy’s even breaths beside her, Mabel sighed quietly.

Well. That was certainly disappointing. Those types of dreams were the worst because she hated waking up from them.

She hadn’t always had so many sex dreams. It was a recent development. And frankly, she wasn’t a fan. Yeah, Dipper was sexy, but like. She knew that already. She didn’t need her subconscious waving a big ol’ flag with “REMEMBER HOW SEXY YOUR BRO IS?” emblazoned on it. She could do without that, thanks ever so much.

It was half an hour before she managed to fall back asleep. She definitely didn’t fill her friends in on the details the next day, even though she probably would’ve if the dream had been about literally anybody except her twin brother.

She was quite sure that when Grenda and Candy thought of “sexy” vibes in relation to Mabel, Dipper was the last person on the face of the earth who might be considered for such things.

————

The following morning, Mabel tried her absolute hardest to seem as normal as she possibly could. Y’know, talk without changes in her voice or tone or speech pattern. Gesticulate some but not too much. Talk about non-Dipper things. Definitely not because Mabel was having a great deal of difficulty thinking about anything but Dipper and what his lips and hands and teeth (oh god his teeth) would feel like on various parts of her body. That had zero to do with it.

Of course, normal for Mabel was… odd for other people, to say the least. And that suited her just fine. Really, it did. She rather liked it that way, actually. Normal people were kinda lame.

Still, there were, of course, some aspects of Mabel’s life that she sometimes wished were a bit more normal, she pondered as she brushed her hair in the bathroom mirror. Not entirely, just a bit. She wished she didn’t have to live separately from her sibling. She wished she’d found her soulmate the same way as everyone else rather than having it be a big mystery.

But most all, she wished she’d never developed these stupid feelings for Dipper. They really were stupid. Who gets feelings for their twin, anyway? Like, where did that even come from?

When Mabel thinks of the word “incest”, she pictures royal families trying to keep the bloodlines pure and stereotypical hillbillies and rednecks. What she did not picture was a modern day middle class Californian teenager.

Not that it had gotten to incest levels, of course. Obviously not. In order for anything to happen, Dipper would have to return her feelings, which he decidedly did not. Why would he?

You’re the weirdo, she reminded herself as she set her hairbrush down.

Well. It is what it is, she supposed. No reason to dwell on it.

And on that note, Mabel skipped out of the bathroom, doing a rather excellent job of pretending she was definitely not dwelling on her romantic-but-very-much-unrequited love for her brother.

Not even a little.

————

They didn’t ride in the same car. Of course they didn’t. They never did. She knew, intellectually speaking, that her and Dipper couldn’t be in the same car for the half hour drive from Candy’s to the mountains. Even five minute drives, though, her parents refused.

“What if you get stuck in traffic?” They’d demand whenever she asked if just once, Dipper could take her in his car. It didn’t seem to make a difference that the odds of a traffic jam in a town as small as Gravity Falls were minuscule at best. Eventually, she stopped asking, stopped trying to reason with them.

She wished she could text him during the drive. She couldn’t stop staring at his last message. She didn’t mean to, it was just that she sometimes got into these moods where whenever she stopped looking at his texts, she’d immediately get the irresistible urge to look at them again, even if she knew full well that all she’d see was the fifteen minute old see you in a bit.

Mabel felt bad about the whole thing sometimes. It wasn’t that she’d meant to fall in love. She truly hadn’t. But… Dipper was just so goddamn sweet. He was considerate and kind and he always asked about her day. And when she told him, he actually listened! None of the guys at her school ever did that. They just stared at her boobs while she talked.

It was suuuuuuuper guilt-inducing, though. Like, somewhere near her (it had to be near her or she’d have been going through withdrawal symptoms all her life) was her soulmate. Emotionally healthy people developed crushes on their soulmates even before they turned seventeen and felt the pull.

Evidently, Mabel wasn’t an emotionally healthy person. She’d developed a crush on her twin brother. And then it had developed into this suffocating, desperate, agonizing, all-encompassing consuming love and adoration that she just couldn’t seem to shake.

It was hard not to see him, she mused as she stared at her phone (still black because he hadn’t texted her, obviously; get a grip, Mabel). But then, it was just as hard to actually see him. The urge to touch him was even worse lately.

Sighing and leaning back in her seat, Mabel stared out the window.

She completely missed her father’s solemn gaze flickering to her briefly in the rear view mirror.

————

Mabel liked visiting Gravity Falls in the winter. She probably wouldn’t get to see snow otherwise. It was beautiful.

It had snowed in the mountains the night before, and there was frost on the ground and snow on the tops of the trees, the sun bouncing off them and making them shine. The cold air bit her face when she opened the car door, but Dipper’s smile in her direction as he stepped out of his own beat-up sedan made her forget about everything else.

Buzz buzz buzz, said the bees.

Mabel resisted the urge to dance when she saw him.

Or slap her stomach a few times. Maybe the sting of it would numb the stupid fucking bees and their stupid fucking buzzing, for god’s sake, would you shut up already-

She did neither, however (good job, Mabel girl!), instead opting for a definitely-not-nervous-in-the-slightest-so-just-shut-your-mouth smile.

“Why hello, Sir Dippingsauce!” She ambled over to him, telling herself she was doing an excellent job of not being awkward.

How long did she have to keep that up for again? A week? That was… that was fine. She could do a week. She could totally do a week, no problemo (Note: Mabel could not do a week. She could possibly do 2.5 days, and even that was most certainly pushing it, but to suggest as much is incredibly rude, as Mabel was doing her very best to make her mind into a 100% Doubt-Free Zone™).

He put an arm across his stomach, the other rigid at his side, and bowed deeply at the waist with a decidedly snooty expression on his too-attractive-to-be-legal face. “Lady Mabelton,” he greeted. “I trust your carriage ride was pleasant?”

“Indeed, milord. You may rise,” she lifted her hand in a dainty gesture, her nose (which was red from the cold) in the air. He did, grinning. “So, what d’you have planned for me n’ the ‘rents today?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Just a fun little nature walk, I guess. Nothing crazy.”

Mabel shot him double finger guns. “Coolio, bro-lio.”

Their parents were just climbing out of the car. They always took forever. Why did people over the age of twenty-eight always take forever to emerge from a vehicle?

Mabel fiddled with the empty space her right forefinger left in gloves she wore. Gloves were always too big for her as far as finger-length went.

“Soooooo…” she drawled as her parents rounded their car. “Lesgo!”

Running off in a totally random direction, she skidded to a halt at the edge of a clearing. “Yeeeah… might wanna let me lead the way, Mabes. I know my way around pretty well, since I... y’know... live here,” Dipper said with another one of those heart-stopping grins.

Ugh.

Suddenly feeling tremendously uncomfortable again, Mabel laughed awkwardly. “Indeed you do, bro-bro. Indeed you do.” Chill chill chill it’s fine, it’s fine, totally fine up in here.

Dipper walked around Mabel and started down a winding gravel path, definitely neglecting to give her anything that could remotely be classified as “enough space to not have a heart attack”. She followed behind him after several seconds, trying very hard not to stare at his butt.

Again. Dammit.

Mrs. Pines even scolded him a bit. “Careful not touch your sister, Dipper!”

Her voice carried through the trees, and Dipper called out a quick, “kay,” over his shoulder before continuing on. It had been perhaps five minutes. Ten, maybe? Who knew? Time lost meaning when she stared at Dipper too long, and he was walking directly ahead of her. Besides, she had to pay attention to where he was going! She couldn’t really be blamed for staring at him, right?

The path widened significantly after awhile, allowing Dipper to fall back a bit, frosted gravel crunching beneath his sneakers.

“Is it okay if we walk ahead of you, Dipper?” Mr. Pines asked. “Your mother and I would like to look at the scenery a bit more clearly than we can behind you and your sister.”

Dipper nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty straightforward from here.”

Mr. and Mrs. Pines smiled at him and stepped around him, Mr. Pines patting Dipper’s shoulder affectionately as he walked past.

Dipper fell into step beside Mabel, walking in silence. Mabel inspected her shoes. Some of the frost had gotten on the rhinestones she’d glued to them.

Glancing up in front of her after several minutes, she noticed that their parents had gotten further and further away, far out of earshot.

For the first time in as long as Mabel could remember, they didn’t seem to be paying too much attention to her and Dipper’s interactions.

Blushing furiously at the very idea of being alone with her twin, she looked down at her shoes again. Thank god for the cold. Nobody would question her red face in the cold.

“So,” Dipper said haltingly. Mabel’s head whipped up to face him, her eyes wide. She hadn’t really been expecting him to actually speak, but then she couldn’t very well have not expected it, either. It had just… never occurred to her that he might.

“So?” Mabel said back. Don’t be awkward don’t be awkward don’t be awkward-

“Well, there’s this… thing.”

“Very specific,” Mabel nodded indulgently. “Say no more, brother dear. I know of what you speak.”

His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Y-you do?” He stuttered.

Mabel snorted. “Uh, no. Doi. Why would I know?”

He blinked at her. “Oh. Right. Yeah. Guess you… probably wouldn’t, huh?” He looked away and muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t quite catch.

“What was that?” She asked, pushing her hair back behind the ear closest to him, some of the strands catching on her glove.

“Oh, uh. Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Mm...kay?” When he didn’t say anything, just kept staring at her, she spoke up again. “What were you gonna tell me?”

“Oh! Right. Yeah. That. Right.”

“Right. That,” Mabel agreed with a nod, as if she had the slightest idea what he was talking about (note: she did not, in fact, have the slightest idea what he was talking about).

“So, there’s this thing,” Dipper said again.

“Right,” Mabel repeated.

“This thing… that I’ve been kinda meaning to tell you for… well,” he laughed hoarsely. She’d never heard him laugh like that before. “For a few years, actually.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Errhm. Okay. What is it?”

“Okay, so it’s like this,” he started, then stopped and looked up at the sky. “Why me?” He muttered, so quiet she almost didn’t hear him again.

“Okay, Dip, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

He sighed and stopped walking. So did she. His eyes were closed, which was probably a good thing because they really were terribly distracting and whatever he had to tell her seemed pretty important. He turned his face to her again, opening them, something… different in them. Something she’d never seen before. Something she didn’t recognize.

Something urgent and terrifying and nerve-wracking in a way she didn’t entirely understand, and then-

“Kids!” Her dad called out, both parents jogging over to them. Well, okay, it was more like running. Why would they be running? They hadn’t been that far behind, yeesh.

“Shit,” Dipper muttered again, and Mabel turned to him in surprise. He’d tried to talk to her before, too. Before she’d left for Candy’s. Why? What was going on? Was he sick? If he was sick, why couldn’t he tell their parents? Oh god, what if he’d gotten an STD? What if he’d gotten somebody pregnant? No, wait, pregnancy didn’t last “a few years”, which he had said very clearly, so not that. Oh, fuckity fucking fuck, what if he’d found his soulmate?

“What’re you guys talkin’ about?” Their mom asked with a smile that was a bit too tight and didn’t reach her eyes.

Dipper shrugged. “School and whatnot. Just catching up.”

Mabel didn’t understand why he was lying, but, well. Mabel Pines ain’t no snitch, so she nodded and said, “yeppers yeppers Johnny Deppers! The usual, y’know.”

Mr. Pines inclined his head. Mrs. Pines was clasping his hand.

Her knuckles were white.

Their parents didn’t let their children out of their sight for the remainder of the hike.

Mabel could barely speak. She couldn’t even think much of anything.

What if he’d found his soulmate?

The bees never shut up, either.

#gravity falls fanfiction #gf fanfiction #pinecest #mabel pines #dipper pines #fanfiction #fanfic #looks like someone picked a whole bushel of oopsie daisies #my writing

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enamoured-x · 4 years

Text

for you i’d bleed myself dry

Poe Dameron x Reader

Part 3

Summary: Poe takes care of you at the end of the day when he notices you haven’t eaten.

Warnings: Slight jealousy

*Not my gif

Word count: 2.3k

Part 3

When morning came, you were the first to wake up. You were surprised to find Poe still in bed, only he was facing you now, arm thrown around your waist, hand resting on your back. You swallowed hard as his face was right in front of yours. He was still sleeping and you didn’t want to wake him, so you just stared. His hair was a mess of curls on top of his head, his stubble coming through more than yesterday, and his lips pouted. Your feelings creeped back to the forefront of your mind. You allowed it for just a moment. Maybe you were a sadist, laying here with him in your arms, something so intimate, so damn close, yet you weren’t anything to him. At least not in the way you wanted. You felt that familiar pang in your heart at the thought and you shoved everything back into a box and locked it.

BB-8 greeted you with a good morning and then told you he was supposed to wake up Poe now for breakfast and to get started on his daily tasks.

“I got it, Beebs.” You whispered. But Poe stirred awake anyways. When his eyes opened, you smiled slightly.

“Good morning.” He greeted you, voice husky and deep. Not taking his arm off you but scooting closer to you and closing his eyes again.

“Good morning. You sleep well?” You didn’t hear him at night and you didn’t even feel so much as a stir. He opened his eyes again.

“Better than I ever have.” He said as he took your cheek in his palm. Staring at you in a way you couldn’t quite pin down.

“I’m glad I could help.” You said and meant it. You wanted him to be happy. You didn’t like seeing him tired and sluggish. You didn’t like seeing anything but a smile on those lips of his.

“You always know what I need.” You did. You knew him like the back of your hand but he knew you all the same. Sometimes you wondered how life brought you to Poe Dameron, he felt like your other half, that missing piece. And yet. And yet.

His eyes flickered down to your lips but you were sure it was a fluke. And as he leaned forward you were sure it was just to get comfortable. Until his lips were barely grazing yours. You stilled, waiting for him. Your mind was running wild. Your heart was about to beat out of your chest. And just as you thought your lips were finally about to meet, there was a knock at the door.

“Let’s go, commander!” Snap said knocking on the door and then walking away. You both leaned back, tension filling the room.

BB-8 cursed Snap in quiet little chirps.

“Bee!” You scolded as Poe let out, “Buddy!”

He ignored you two with what sounded like a hmph.

You laughed a little but then cleared your throat. There was no way you two were about to kiss. He wasn’t about to kiss you. But. But he was?

“We should go.” You both needed to get breakfast before you started the day.

“Yeah.” He nodded and then slid out of bed, you followed after him. You couldn’t help but glance briefly at his ass. You looked away before he could turn back around but BB-8 seemed to know what you were doing and spun in a circle making little noises, you were pretty sure the damn droid was laughing at you. You shook your head but a smile was playing on your lips at his behavior. If you didn’t know any better you were sure BB-8 wanted you two together.

You pulled on your clothes from yesterday as Poe started to change.

“I’ll see you at breakfast, I’m going to put on some fresh clothes.” You told him as you made your way to the door.

“Wait,” he grabbed your arm.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly as his words and squeezed his shoulder.

“Anytime, Dameron.”

You hadn’t gotten to see Poe that morning or afternoon, he had been called away to General Organa. You on the other hand, had still been tinkering with your x-wing. BB-8 once again helping you when you asked him for certain tools. He also made for good company. He was a sweet little thing and you loved him.

You were tightening up a few screws when BB-8 chirped a few times.

“Poe what?” You asked him as you moved out from underneath the ship. He made a few more noises and you turned to see what he was talking about.

The camp was alive with everyone running around and chattering, loads of people were outside today as per usual. But you saw what BB-8 was referring to.

Poe was talking to that blonde medic again. Laughing at something she said as she had an arm on his shoulder. You looked away. He was most definitely not trying to kiss you this morning. It was all in your damn head. You hated that you wanted to cry. You thought you had been so close. But in reality, you were still out of reach.

“She’s pretty.” You said bitterly. Beebs chirped and nudged you, telling you that he thought you were even prettier. You laughed at the droid and gave him scratches.

“Thanks, Beebs. At least someone appreciates me.” You joked and he nudged your leg once more. You couldn’t help yourself and spared another glance. Her hand was now rubbing at his chest and he was smiling at her. You looked away again, heart hurting something cruel.

And even seeing them together like that, that night when he asked you to stay with him again, you did.

It had been a grueling day for you to say the least. First off, Poe had left in the morning before you even woke. Waking up to an empty bed when you had gotten use to Poe just after two nights with him, well, it was unpleasant. And it had told you what kind of day it was going to be as you rolled out of bed already in a bad mood. To make matters worse, you got to breakfast late and got scraps of meat and stale bread. And then you were being pulled right and left to help with mechanical problems on a few starfighters and even helping out the other squadrons with problems they were having. Although most of the pilots in the resistance knew how to work with their aircraft, you were called to help more times than not because of your history with taking engineering and mechanics classes when you were in the academy.

You were always willing to help but some pilots would stare you down like a hawk, making sure nothing happened to their precious x-wings. Your teammates in blacksquadron would sit back and let you do what you needed to do, they trusted you wholeheartedly so it was much more peaceful when you got to their ships and helped them with their problems. It was a long day of repairing coms, unjamming buttons and switches, and rewiring controls. You had even missed lunch. You had finished helping everyone else but you were distracted by helping Rey with the falcon that you didn't even realize that time had passed since Rey left for the day and you were still on board. You were not happy to see that you had missed lunch by a few hours and that dinner wasn’t until another couple hours. You didn’t even have BB-8 to keep you company as he was with Poe all day. You couldn’t really be mad there though, BB-8 did belong to Poe after all. And Poe. You hadn’t even seen a glimpse of him all day.

Dusk started to set in as you took in the view from where you were seated on a rock, near a cliff. You weren’t too far away from camp, still able to hear them going about the rest of their day. Your stomach was growling and you were just counting down the minutes till the mess opened back up for dinner.

“There you are.” You turned at the voice, Poe walking up with a smile on his face. Two trays of… food in his hands. He leaned down and placed a kiss to your head and then plopped down on the rock right next to you. All the tension and stress from today eased up a bit at seeing him.

“Haven’t seen you all day.” He said and then handed you a tray. You just stared at the still steaming meat and warm bread in front of you. And the vibrant and juicy looking fruit. Your mouth started to water at the smell of it all.

“What is this?” You asked him. He started to dig into the food on his tray.

You were about to devour the food in front of you until he said, “dinner.”

You looked at him, “dinner? Dinner isn’t served till another hour.” Honestly, you were surprised you were asking questions and not just taking the blessing for what it was.

“Being commander has its perks.” He said, food in his cheek so he could talk. You gave him a pointed look. He may hold a high status but the cooks were not easy to charm and didn’t give a damn about who you were unless you were Leia.

“Okay, so I might have lied and said the general needed two trays of food stat.” You let out a laugh and shook your head. Damn this man. Going this length for you because he found out you hadn’t eaten.

“She’ll kill you if she finds out you used her name for this.” You said. And then you shoved your face. You didn’t notice that Poe was looking at you as you inhaled your food, barely stopping to breath.

“Maybe but I couldn’t let you go on another second without eating. You shouldn’t have missed lunch, sweetheart.” His voice was stern but still soft as he spoke. Your cheeks burned under his gaze and at the fact that he was worried. He always was.

“I know, I got distracted.” You offered in explanation and finished up the food on your plate.

“Here, take my fruit.” He tried to hand you the bowl with his fruit but you shook your head.

“No. You need to eat, Poe. I’m good.”

“Just take it.” He placed the bowl on your tray and this time you let him, knowing he wasn’t going to let up.

“Thanks, Poe. This was sweet of you. You will be thoroughly missed once Leia discovers the truth.” He laughed. You ate the starblossom fruit, thankful for more food in your belly. Thankful for Poe. Your day had quickly turned around with this little act, with Poe. He always knew how to make you feel better whether you were in a bad mood or just having a day. He always knew what to say and what to do.

“Anything for you.” You wished his words wouldn’t sting as much as they made you feel giddy. So close yet so far away.

You smiled at him and bit into your fruit to distract yourself from your racing heart.

“You have a little something,” he motioned to your chin. You realized the juice from the fruit was trailing down your chin. Before you could wipe it away, Poe’s hand was reaching up. You stilled as his thumb swiped the juice, and then brought it to his mouth, sucking it off. The act so erotic and so soft at the same time. You didn’t know what to think, to say, to feel. You swallowed hard as his eyes stayed locked in on yours. His eyes trailed down your face to watch your tongue wet your lips.

He reached his hand up to cup your cheek and you leaned into it like he had done a few nights ago.

“I think…” He started, eyes searching yours, “I think you’re my favorite thing to look at.”

Everything went quiet. Everything went still. You couldn't speak, could barely breathe. Because how were you on the receiving end of that sentence? On the receiving end of Poe’s admiration? You were surely dreaming. But you weren’t. You weren’t and Poe was looking at you in a way that you could only describe as longing.

You finally found your words. The swirls of orange and pinks from the sky glowed on his tanned face, you were sure you were looking at a work of art as you took him in.

“You’re my favorite thing to look at too.” You confessed. Appreciating the dips and hollows of his face as the sun started to disappear from sight.

Moments passed but neither of you moved a muscle.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you two! Finn said–” And just like that, your moment shared with Poe was gone. You both quickly pulled away from one another, turning to see Rose, wide eyed and blushing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I… We were just worried and I… well Finn–” She rambled and you stopped her.

“It’s okay, Rose.” You told the girl. But you felt differently. You wished you could stay in that moment with Poe. All the grief and despair that you were all soon to face, all the pain you all had already faced, it was bearable, beatable, when you looked into Poe’s eyes. Everything had melted away.

“Finn and Rey were looking for you two. They were just worried.” Rose said quietly, before backing away.

“I’ll go and tell them you’re safe.” Is all she said before turning around and quickly walking away. You laughed lightly despite hating the interruption.

“Guess we should head back.” You told Poe, not wanting to make things awkward. Although right now, it seemed like that’s where this was headed. You both stood up and collected your things.

“Yeah, um…” He scratched the back of his neck and looked away before meeting your eyes again.

“Are you… will you be staying with me tonight?” You smiled at his words, finding it adorable how nervous he was to ask you.

“Yeah, if you want me to.” He nodded.

“Then let’s go.”

Taglist: @starrynite7114 @briannab1234 @imaginecrushes @benakenalove @springfox04 @beyoncesdragon

#poe dameron fic #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #sw #for you id bleed myself dry

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aconstantstateofbladerunner · 4 years

Note

Ok but jumping off in that person mentioning Izuku losing your arm, do you have any headcanons for amputee Izuku. Especially in relation to dad might and eraser head. With the assumption that it wasn’t izuku’s fault it happened. (An unavoidable accident as opposed to him being self destructive with his quirk.)

Okay I’ve been sitting on this one a while, largely because I have something planned for a fic and i wanted to come up with something different for this ask. I think this works out. That being said, I did fuck all to research how actual amputations work because there is enough medical-related trauma going on right now and I don’t wanna deal with that.

- So I see him fighting a villain with some sort of toxic quick, specifically a sting of some kind that causes rapid onset infection. It doesn’t even hurt as bad as a bee sting, so Izuku doesn’t think much of it when he gets hit above his wrist. There isn’t even a noticeable tear in his costume. He beats the villain without much trouble. His arm is a little sore during paperwork, but that’s close enough to normal.

- But the soreness persists through to the end of the day, gradually getting worse. Izuku finally takes of his glove, and his whole arm is an angry red.

- Let’s say Aizawa was in charge of whatever field thing he was doing, and they haven’t gone back to UA yet. Izuku shows him his arm, and innocently asks if he think’s it’s worth going to Revovery Girl over. He takes him straight to a hospital.

- The doctors confirm what Aizawa suspected: Izuku’s arm is in the early stages of infection. They give him some antibiotics and wrap his arm with salve and bandages. They also insist he stay overnight for observation since it seems to be over a large area. But the general consensus is he should be fine since they caught it early. Izuku is sad he can’t go back to the dorms and a bit embarrassed he got hurt again, but Aizawa chides that for once it isn’t his fault.

- It’s late so Izuku goes to sleep soon after. Aizawa stays nearby. He calls the school and All Might to explain the situation, the latter of which insists on heading down there himself. In the meantime, Aizawa looks up the villain’s profile for details on his quirk. There aren’t any really, but at least three murders are attributed to him. The otherwise healthy victims when into sudden septic shock. They all died less than 24 hours after encountering the villain. Aizawa brings this info to the doctors immediately.

- All Might arrives just as they head back into izuku’s room to check on him. He’s already worse. He’s red and sweating from a fever, panting through a restless sleep. A nurse cuts open his bandages to reveal massive festering green and grey spots of skin all up his arm. The call is quick. They have to amputate.

- The doctors and surgeons take Izuku back. Aizawa and All Might call Inko. It’s almost three in the morning when she arrives, already crying. They waited to give her the details in person. For hours, all three look over pamphlets about the recovery process and resources on therapy and prosthetics. Izuku would loose his dominant hand, which would most certainly set back his writing somewhat, there were more than enough examples of amputee heroes who continued their careers. All Might tries to rationalize that Izuku has had a lot of practice writing with his other hand since he broke his arm so much. No one finds comfort in that.

- Izuku wakes up late the next morning, delirious and numb. He doesn’t quite remember what happened. All Might is right there, and he gently puts his hand on his shoulders to keep him from sitting up, then caresses his cheek so he’s facing him. It’s comforting. He smiles, and turns over to hold his hand. But his arm won’t move. All Might stammers out a quick preamble, but nothing could have really prepared him to turn to a stub where his arm was just yesterday.

- “Just yesterday,” is the phrase he keeps repeating in his head. Through all the doctors’ explanations and his mother’s tears, he thinks about just yesterday. He had an arm yesterday, now he didn’t. He went to sleep just a little sore, thinking a hospital stay was overblown when he felt fine, and woke up to one of his limbs gone. He didn’t even have a chance to process it. Processing is all he does the few more days they keep him in the hospital. Everyone assures him that things can go back to normal eventually. Dozens of heroes went on to have long, successful careers after limb amputations. There’s even a program in place that provides heroes with high-quality, quirk-compliant prosthetics at a fraction of market price. Everything will be okay. Just yesterday, everything was.

- Izuku’s emotions take a break for those few days. Like the space where his arm used to be, he feels numb. Part of him can’t shake that it’s his fault. He did something wrong in that fight and it cost him. Everyone say’s he didn’t, that he did everything right and this whole thing was just an unfortunate accident. He doesn’t cry at first. His mom cries a lot. All Might cries a little. Even Aizawa gets a little choked up as he promises to help him through this. But Izuku doesn’t cry.

- He doesn’t cry until it’s time to go home. School gave him another few days off to recover at home with his mom. Aizawa said his classmates know what happened and will want to check up on him if he’s up for it. All Might says his mom agreed to help take care of him. Then Izuku breaks down. Suddenly, it’s all real. His arm is gone forever and he has to deal with that for the rest of his life. He’ll have to face his friends, and later the world, with a piece of himself literally missing. He went to bed and woke up missing one of his arms. It’s not fair. Mom and All Might hug him, and Aizawa holds his remaining hand. Rational thought and determination to overcome this new challenge return in due time, but they have to wait for the hurt and scared child to work out his delayed feelings first.

#midoriya izuku #aizawa shouta #dadzawa #all might #dad might #my hero academia #mha headcanons #aconstantstateofheadcanon

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1000scrubs · 3 years

Text

Round 1: Tonzy

Writer Tonzy’s entry for the initial prompts from 2 years ago

It was sort of brilliant actually... I don’t know if anyone even saw it coming. It was gradual at first. A couple big news articles about how the bees were disappearing, but nothing we hadn’t seen before. But over time it started getting worse. At first everyone was thrilled. Chemical pesticides were a thing of the past and malaria was at an all time low. But then the grocery shelves started looking just a little sparse. By the end of the year they were practically empty. And it wasn’t just the bees, oh no. Butterflies, silkworms, hell even the stinking flies had started to disappear.

Well by then it was all out panic. All around the globe people were stampeding. Stockpiling food to keep them through the next year, but that only drove the prices up. It only got worse from there. Food became a rare commodity, most of us had to scrape by on processed food bricks and such. Desperation turned to violence, soon we were on the brink of world war 3.

But that’s exactly where they wanted us. They had the whole world in their hands. While everyone was distracted by the food shortages, they swooped in and took control of the largest food distribution centres that were left. Massive ships descending from the sky. We were at their mercy.

It’s been around five years now and almost everyone left has gone underground. But damn if this apocalypse isn’t good for business. Bodies littering the streets, mortality rates skyrocketing. Someone’s gotta get rid of them all, so the aliens have been tripling the rations for anyone brave enough to do it. Lucky me, I’ve been an undertaker all my life. It’s dangerous though, above ground is a wasteland filled with the worst dregs of humanity. It’s where we banish the criminals. It’s a lucky thing that I’m the best.

I started running an underground smuggling route from my cemetery. Hidden in the crypts, where no one would think to look. People pay good food to get smuggled back into civilization. Every so often someone would come through spinning wild rumours about a device that could fix our unique alien problem. Bring the bugs back and restore our humanity. Like everyone, at first I assumed it was just wishful hoping. Brought on by our imminent destruction. But the rumours only got louder and stronger. More specific. Something about a mad scientist who found a way to jump through time and space to recover a lost artifact. It sounded like a load of bull except for the very precise science that accompanied it. Not that I particularly knew what any of it meant, but it definitely sounded too good for someone to have just made it up.

That’s when it all changed. Her name was Carrie. She was older, in her 60’s, with a stern face and narrowed eyes. I met her on one of my morning digs through the deserted towns. She must’ve known me by reputation, because she approached with no hesitation. “The Undertaker. You can get me back to Karyon?” Her voice was low and gravelly as the dust swirled around us. “For what price?” I asked hesitantly. Her confidence was unnerving in this hellscape. “I’ll give whatever you want, just name it.” She snapped. “Garlic bread.” It had came out of my mouth immediately. I had been waiting 5 years for that buttery, cheesy bread between my lips. Just the thought of it made my mouth water. “5 loaves.” 1 for every year. I knew I was pushing my luck. I must’ve smuggled thousands of people, but not a single slice of garlic bread had I ever seen. “Done.” My eyes must’ve showed my suspicion. She gave a deep throaty chuckle. “I’m good for it don’t worry. I had a good job with the aliens.”

We waited till nightfall before I led her down the crypts to the small dark tunnel. I had my back turned to her, no reason to suspect anything. She was half my size, practically no meat on her bones. Then everything went dark. The next thing I remember I was waking up on a cold dark floor with a bright blue light strobing on and off. An acidic taste in the back of my mouth and a pounding headache.

Carrie stood looming over me. My eyes were throbbing beneath my skull and there was a weird pressure there that made my ears stuffy. I saw her mouth moving but all I could hear was a ringing whine in my head. “WHAT?” I could barely hear anything. She pursed her lips tightly, her eyes flashing in anger. She picked me up and shoved me roughly towards a small bench in the corner of the room. I felt a sharp sting on the side of my neck and suddenly everything went clear. “Shut up. We don’t want any unnecessary attention.” She hissed, “this is our last chance. I will not have some narcissistic undertaker ruin it.” Narcissistic! The nerve! I opened my mouth to retaliate but she quickly cut me off. “Say another word and I’ll kill you myself. Just listen.” She pulled a small pouch out of her jacket. A small silver disk slipped out of and lit up with a quiet whirring noise. Bright light illuminated the room and I had to squint to see what was hovering above it. “This is our last hope. This is the Declaration of Independence.” She must have seen the incredulous look on my face, “ obviously not the real one, it’s just a projection. It’s the key to ending this goddamn horror.” “What are you talking about? Everyone with a Third grade education knows that’s just an ancient piece of paper.” “No.” She hissed, annoyance flashing through her face, “This is the key to our salvation.”

— 2 months later —

Hot air blasted against my cheek, singing the fine hair. I ducked for cover. Not for the first time, I thought of the warm buttery, cheesy prize awaiting me at the end of this god forsaken mission. “At this rate I deserve a mountain of garlic bread for all this.” “Shut up.” Carrie glared from where she was situated behind the wing of our rocket. “If you could think about anything other than yourself for once...” More gunfire peppered the area. I grabbed my weapon and let loose, several alien figures dropping to the ground with garbled screams. They were segmented like an insect, with bulbous orange heads and black pincers at their mouths. Several more blasts shot out and the last few aliens fell. “We must be quick” Carrie dusted off her arm and strode off briskly. I exhaled softly, finally able to take a good look around. This place was familiar, yet exceedingly foreign. As if you asked someone to recreate all life on earth from memory. The bubbling sound of running water, the rustling of purple tinged leaves, the crunch of green stones beneath our feet. “This is planet K-4670.” Carrie spoke softly, as if the sound of her voice was an intrusion on this serene world. “The first inhabitable planet discovered outside of our solar system.” “Inhabitable? Don’t you mean inhabited?” I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice but based on her severe glower, I hadn’t succeeded. “Of course we didn’t know that.” Her face softened slightly. “This place is rich in valuable resources. We hadn’t seen signs of intelligent life forms.” Her hands fidgeted with the cuff of her sleeves. “We thought we could do something good. Renew our dying planet.” “So you exploited this one instead?” I looked up. The sky looked the same as Earth. Puffy white clouds floated against vibrant blue. “We didn’t know.” Carrie quickened her pace, her posture stiff. “Bullshit.” I huffed. Ahead of me, Carrie tilted her head slightly, an ugly look on her face. We walked in silence from there, occasionally passing the scars of our discoveries. Looking into one of the deep craters, I saw remnants of a sprawling civilization. Eventually we reached our destination. A giant tower crawling with aliens. We stopped a fair distance away. The place resembled a massive termite mound. Carrie shoved something into my hand. “This will get you back where you need to go.” The object was the size of my palm and smooth to the touch. “What do you mean, what is this?” “Just press the button when I tell you.” Her arms were crossed in front of her. “I haven’t told you this yet, but thank you. You’re a good person.” She pat my arm awkwardly and turned away. “I’ve been called many things in my life ma’am, but good was never one of them.” I stared at her back, once again noticing how small and frail she looked. Without her usual overbearing personality, she was just a little old woman. “We should get this over with.” She turned back to me, an unbearable sadness washed across her face briefly, before she steeled back into her usual sneer. “Let’s go.” We snuck around to the back of the building, carefully avoiding the rounds of guards that walked by. The inside of the tower was dark and cool. The green rock walls were worn smooth. A dim glow permeated the long empty corridors. For all the activity outside, the interior seemed abandoned. We worked our way slowly through the winding paths, until we came to a large high roofed room. It was empty, apart from a tall podium set in the centre. “There it is.” Carrie breathed. She took a step and reached up at the podium. “Stay your hand witch.” A garbled voice emerged from the shadows, accompanied by a metallic whine. Carrie snatched her hand back, a single drop of blood falling to the floor. A hulking beast of an alien emerged from the shadowy corner. It stalked closer, stopping several feet away. Several hair thin needles twirled between its fingers. “You’ve made a mistake coming here.” It’s words sounded strange, unlike any accent I’d heard before. The large black pincers made sharp snapping noises as they opened and closed around its mouth. “You’ve given us no choice.” Carrie clenched her fists at her sides, when she opened them again four white indents were pressed into the pink palm. “I will do what I have to for my people.” The alien made a noise that could loosely be described as a laugh. “We’ve given no choice? We were living peacefully here, we had no quarrel with you. It was your people that destroyed our homes and killed us in droves.” “We didn’t mean to cause such pain, we didn’t know you were here.” I spoke up from beside Carrie. Glancing at the stiff look on her face. Another laugh echoed against the four walls. “Is that she told you runt?” I bristled at the insult, my stature had never been questioned before. “We made contact with your probes. We accepted your surveyors into our homes. We taught you everything you know about our planet. Yet your greed cannot be satiated. You wanted this planet for yourself, so you tried to exterminate us.” The clicking of its mandibles was deafening in the silence. Carrie said nothing. I turned to face her, but she avoided my gaze. “We know we have no future, what you see here is the last of our population. So the last thing we can do, is to take you down with us.” “You would kill millions of innocents for revenge?” I was seething. Angry at this alien for what they had done, angry at Carrie for what she had started, and angry at myself for trusting her. The alien turned to me, it’s small pale eyes seemed to look straight through me. “Innocents? Do you mourn the millions of us who were buried in these craters?” Its voice was rising in anger. “Enough! There are no innocents. Your people never questioned where your wealth was coming from. Your people didn’t want to know that there comfortable lives were paid in blood!” All three of us moved in the same moment. Carrie reached up and grabbed the wrinkled paper on top of the podium. The alien extended its long arm and shot out a handful of paper thin needles. I pulled out my weapon and shot straight at its chest. Time seemed to slow down. The alien crumpled to the floor as I caught Carrie’s falling body. “Take it, press the button.” Carrie desperately shoved the paper into my hand, her body convulsing as she took gasping breaths. “I’m not just going to leave you here.” I stared at the vibrant blood red stains steeping into the aged yellow paper. Her wrinkled face seemed to sink into itself, her eyes bulging. “This is what I deserve. You must get this back. Give it to my daughter. We must save Earth. My life is insignificant.” She spoke in a strained staccato. She fished into my pocket and pulled the palm sized item out. She clicked something into place and pushed it into my hand. “Get out of here, you don’t have much time.” I lowered her body to the ground and stepped back. A hint of a smile was on her face. She closed her eyes and a sigh escaped her dying body “I’m sorry.” The sound of feet echoed down the hall. Shadows were rushing forward to the room. I pressed the button and everything disappeared.

White light pierced my eyes. Loud ringing enveloped my brain. Yellow paper stained with blood was clenched in my fist. A stern face. Brown hair. Sharp eyes. “Give it to me.” A voice. My head throbbed. Fingers grabbed at my clenched hand and forced them open. The woman took the paper and cut it open straight through the centre. A thin blue glowing string was pulled out. “She sewed this into the Declaration of Independence, she knew we would need it.” The woman placed the string on a round tablet, scanning it. A diagram appeared on the screen. It looked like a weapon. “Here, you must be hungry.” She handed my a warm plate. A long forgotten aroma wafted against my face. I couldn’t believe it. A plate stacked high with freshly baked garlic bread. I didn’t hesitate. Handfuls of warm cheesy bread were shoved into my mouth. I could barely register the taste with how fast I was swallowing. Eventually the last slice sat on the plate. This time I ate it slowly, savouring every bite. My face covered in crumbs, I finally asked. “What are you going to do with it?” “I will finish what my mother started.” She turned to me with that severe overbearing look. I saw a flash of silver before blood spurt from my throat. It ran down my throat as I choked, struggling to take a breath. I fell to my knees, one hand grasping at my gauged neck. I looked up at her in a panic, only to be met with an apathetic stare. “Thank you for your service”. My body collapsed. Red blood pooling on the floor, the last bite of garlic bread stained red as my body began to die. At least I got paid.

Who: narcissistic undertaker obsessed with garlic bread What: steals the Declaration of Independence When: The ‘When’ prompt was lost Where: the first inhabitable planet discovered outside the solar system Why: because all the insects disappeared

#5w story #short story #death #round 1 #placeholder tag 4 #tonzy #sci fi

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