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jgracie · 17 days

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ONCE UPON A DREAM — PERCY + CHILD OF HYPNOS

masterlist | rules

❝ Hi! Can you do hcs of Percy Jackson dating a child of Hypnos!reader please? I love all your other headcanons ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a child of hypnos

pairing percy jackson x hypnos!reader

warnings none

on the radio . . . once upon a dream (lana del rey)

Cabin inspections weren’t Percy’s favourite things in the world, but there were worse jobs to do at camp

Still, he couldn’t help but feel like a bit of a hypocrite whenever he gave a cabin a low cleanliness grade, considering he wasn’t the tidiest person. If it weren’t for Tyson, he’d have dish duty for dirtiest cabin every week

What Percy did like about cabin inspections was getting to know the other cabin counsellors. Now that minor gods had their own cabins, the pool of people for Chiron to choose from almost doubled, making inspections a lot more interesting

Last time Percy was on cabin inspection duty, he was paired with Lou Ellen Blackstone from the Hecate cabin, who taught him the basics of tarot while they inspected. He forgot half of the stuff she said, but it was still really cool

Today, Percy looked at the duty sheet posted on the notice board and found his name next to someone called Y/N from cabin 15

There’s nothing Percy hated more than when people referred to cabins by their numbers instead of Godly parent. He barely managed to learn the first 12, now he had another 8 to memorise

Oh well, it’s not like it mattered. Percy didn’t have to go collect you from cabin 15, since everyone knew people on cabin inspection duty are supposed to meet at the big house then check the cabins in numerical order

Or so he thought. Percy waited ages and watched as people came and went, yet there was no sight of you. Had you forgotten you were supposed to be on inspection duty? Were you a new camper and got lost? Percy scratched that last thought, since you wouldn’t be cabin counsellor if you were new

After about 10 minutes, Percy got tired of waiting. The next time someone passed by, he asked them which God cabin 15 was for: Hypnos

Clipboard in hand, he made his way over to your cabin

“Hello? Is there anyone in here?” Percy asked, rapping his knuckles on the front door. This was his third time knocking, and he was getting quite tired of it all. Being met with more silence, the boy decided to invite himself in

Walking into your cabin, Percy nearly tripped over one of your half-siblings, who was sleeping on the doormat. Looking around, Percy realised almost everyone in this cabin was at least daydreaming. He felt like he’d entered a new world where time stopped and responsibilities were non-existent

“So…” he began, unsure if he should wake one of them up or hope they wake up by themselves, “which one of you’s Y/N?”

There was no response. Just as Percy was about to tap one of your siblings on the shoulder, another pointed in your direction whilst asleep, which freaked Percy out, “uh… thanks,” he said before turning in the direction of their pointed finger

What he saw next had him debating between bursting out laughing or facepalming. Somehow, you managed to fall asleep in the middle of tying your shoelaces, and so you stood with one foot in the air, the laces slipping from your fingers

“Hey, uh, do you need some help with that?” He asked, gently shaking you awake. From the outside, you seemed to be in deep sleep, but all it took to wake you up was one small shake

Blinking the sleep away from your eyes, you were met with a pair of aquamarine ones, “what time is it?” You mumbled, tying your shoelaces as if nothing had happened, clearly unfazed by the position you woke up in

“9AM,” as soon as Percy uttered those words, you suddenly seemed much more alert

Scrambling for your own clipboard and pen, you exclaimed, “what?! Oh Gods, I’m so late. I was supposed to meet this guy at the big house an hour ago!” Then, to Percy, “do you know how many alarms I set? I was so close, too! Fell asleep right as I was about to leave,” you said, eyebrows furrowed in disappointment

An endearing smile tugged at the corners of Percy’s lips. He wasn’t annoyed anymore. He couldn’t be, not at your cute pouty expression

“It’s okay, I don’t like cabin inspections that much anyway,” he said, causing a wave of relief to wash over you

While you inspected the cleanliness of cabins together, you got to know each other and Percy learnt more about your cabin. You heard the stuff the kids from other cabins called you - lazy being the most commonly used adjective - and were quick to dismantle all the stereotypes surrounding you and your siblings whenever you got the chance. It wasn’t all of them, of course, but it was enough of them to rub you the wrong way

It’s not that you cared what they were saying about you, but you couldn’t stand the way they’d speak about your father and his domain. There was a very good reason why mortal doctors preached about sleep so often, after all

Also, you and your siblings didn’t sleep just for the sake of it - you often trained in your dreams, seeing as you were closer to your full potential the deeper your slumber was, so you weren’t lazy at all

As all of these thoughts spilled out of your lips while walking around camp with Percy, you were confused. Sure, these things bothered you, but you were usually in good control of your emotions - always serene, always calm. Even when you did complain, you didn’t do it like this

You stopped for a second and took a good look at Percy, then it hit you

“You are the most tense person I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Excuse me?” Percy replied, caught off-guard and a little offended. He’d been so forgiving with you, and this is how you thanked him?

Noticing his discomfort, you recollected yourself, “no offence, Percy, but you haven’t been relaxed a day in your life. Your tenseness is rubbing off on me, that’s why I’ve been so heated. Would you wanna book a meditation session with me? I think it’d really help.”

Percy blinked, his brows furrowed in confusion. Before, he was offended, but now he didn’t know how to feel. You’d basically just called him an emitter of bad emotions. At the same time, though, something was telling him he should trust you. He felt the relaxed aura of your cabin even before walking in

And meditation with you sounded quite nice. He didn’t think he wanted to rely on the slim chance that Chiron would pair the two of you up a second time just to see you again

“Okay.”

Turns out, the Hypnos cabin had a whole meditation business set up. Very few people knew about it, since very few people cared to see past your sleepiness, but your cabin was a safe haven for those who did

You had a slot open the next day right after breakfast, so you quickly put Percy in, promising him you’d actually be awake when he shows up

He was a little apprehensive and considered not showing up at all, but he’d committed and so he was at your cabin door as soon as breakfast was over

Soon enough, Percy would learn that his showing up to your meditation session that day was the best decision he’d ever made

You were so sweet as you guided him through his emotions and helped him practise breathing techniques to relax, as well as giving him tips on how to get a better night’s rest

The two of you eventually started spending time outside of his meditation sessions, too. Percy felt really bad when he heard you speaking about the treatment you’d get from other campers on the day you first met, so he introduced you to all his friends and soon enough, you became a part of the friend group

Secretly, you still preferred spending time with Percy alone. He was so funny and nice, unlike anyone else you’d ever met - both in the mortal world and at camp

You would often meet at this giant oak tree Percy had found you dozing off next to in the early days of your friendship. It was one of your favourite nap spots, but you were more than happy to share it with him

This was one of those instances. Percy had a comic book in hand, some series Leo insisted he should read, but he wasn’t super into it. Meanwhile, you sat next to him, occasionally commenting on the silly drawings in it or telling him little bits of your day

The moment was so peaceful, it was only natural for your eyelids to begin getting heavier. As you dozed off, Percy finally got to a part in the book that could get him to justify why Leo enjoyed these so much, not noticing you were asleep until your head landed on his shoulder

“Oh, goodnight, Y/N,” Percy said, smiling fondly at your serene expression. You always looked cute - Percy knew this better than anyone, considering the massive crush on you he’d been harbouring, but you looked extra adorable in your sleep, your eyelashes tickling your cheeks as light snores left your mouth

He sat very still, not wanting to move a muscle in case that’d cause you to shift positions. He liked where you were sleeping right now. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend you were a couple

Percy began playing around with your hair as he said, “this is nice. I really wish you liked me. I mean, I know you like me, but I want you to like like me, y’know?” He sighed, taking this opportunity as he knew you wouldn’t be able to hear him

Just as he was about to continue reading, he heard a voice - your voice - pipe up, “I like you too, Percy. Really like you.”

And so, you began dating <3

Honestly such a cute relationship. You’re the only one able to calm Percy down whenever he’s upset. The whole Aphrodite cabin could be using their charmspeak on him and he wouldn’t fully relax until you place a gentle hand on his shoulder

You guys also have a lot of sleepovers. Mostly at his cabin, since yours is too full for a proper sleepover

During said sleepovers, you guys always try to visit each other in your dreams. You’re aware that children of Hypnos could enter other people’s dreams and desperately wanted to figure it out, and who better to test it on than Percy?

For one of your attempts he makes those aluminium foil hat things that cartoon characters would use to dream together or whatever it was, and you laugh at first, taking it as a silly joke, until you actually try with the hats on (because Percy insisted) and it ends up being your closest attempt

Now, you wear those aluminium foil hats religiously

Speaking of dreams, yours are more vivid than the average demigod’s, but you had no one to talk to about them until Percy came along. He loves hearing about all your silly slumber adventures <3 especially when he’s in them

Whenever you mention a dream he happened to be in it’s literally like the “oh and there was crazy drama that happened in bloxburg–” “HUH?! I NEED TO HEAR ABOUT THIS!!!!!” audio

“Percy, oh my Gods, I have to tell you about this dream I just had!” You said, not bothering to knock as you made your way inside his cabin. Percy, who was currently trying to fix the fountain in the middle of the room (idk where it is sorry), greeted you with a, “hey sweetie,” clearly very invested in his task

You sat on his bed and proceeded to give him a rundown of your dream: it started off at camp, but you were in a cabin you didn’t recognise. You decided to explore for a little bit and came across this seashell, which you picked up.

Instantly, it transported you to what you assumed was Poseidon’s underwater kingdom, since the God himself came over to greet you, Amphitrite and Triton trailing behind. He showed you around his castle, then left you at the door of your room, where he said was a special surprise for you

“Okay, so I go inside and you’re there–” immediately, Percy turned, losing his focus on the fountain and drenching you in water as a result

Grabbing you by the shoulders, he said, “You need to tell me about this! Did we get married?!”

“I thought you were busy with that fountain. You didn’t seem to care about my dream before,” you said, teasing him

Pouting, Percy replied, “no, baby, I’m sorry. I was listening, honestly! It’s just that the fountain has been making the most annoying noise ever and how are we supposed to continue our dream visiting endeavours with it distracting us?”

You continue your meditation, but more informally. He doesn’t have to book slots to see you anymore, you’d gladly guide him through whatever he needs at any time

The two of you reminisce on your first meeting a lot, too. Percy likes to claim it was his divine intuition that made him choose to look for you that day instead of inspecting cabins alone, while you just play along and try not to laugh at the way he over-exaggerates all your interactions pre-dating

To Percy, though, he isn’t over-exaggerating. Every interaction with you is a big deal. Whenever Percy wakes up in the morning and finds you next to him, clinging onto his arm with a leg draped over his body, he can’t help but fall in love all over again <3

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson x gn reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson headcannons #percy jackson x hypnos reader #percy jackson x child of hypnos #hypnos pjo #children of hypnos #cynwrites

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qatarsprint2023 · 2 months

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Hi can I request a lando x f!reader when she’s really sick and how lando takes care of her, like A. fluffy and comforting fic. I just found ur acc and I’m so excited for ur upcoming writings!!!!

~🎀

Thank you sm! Hope you enjoy this one, 🎀<3

Sick days and Race weekends— LN4

Lando discovers that his girlfriend got sick while he was away for a race and didn't want to worry him. — Lando Norris x f!reader, fluff, comfort, reader has a bad case of the flu, no use of y/n word count: ca. 1.2k

Ever since you were a kid you'd never been the type of person to get actually sick. Sure, a little cough and runny nose maybe, but nothing ever really drastic. Personally, you were pretty sure your immune system was simply a wonderful combination of good genes and growing up in the countryside.

Your parents had always told you that the fresh air and spending a lot of time outdoors with some exposure to animals had probably played some part in your never being sick as well and developed your immune system in a way people who grew up in urban areas would never have.

But when you moved to London for uni a little later in life, a huge city with tons of traffic, pollution and surprisingly little greenery, you found yourself getting sick more often than when you lived on your parent's farm surrounded by green grass, fields that stretched for miles and lots of animals. However this time you got sick. Runny nose, aching joints, pounding headache, hacking cough, fever that came and went as it pleased... The whole flu package, really.

You'd already started feeling a little off before Lando left for Austin on Wednesday and it had gradually gotten a little worse each day, but by Friday it all just hit like a wrecking ball. But you being you, decided not to say anything much about it and tell your boyfriend it was just a common cold you were dealing with back home.

He'd done so well in Qualifying on Friday and he should really be concentrating on his upcoming race and not his girlfriend's inane complaints from halfway across the globe. You didn't like worrying people. It didn't feel right plaguing someone else with your problems when surely you could somehow find a way to work it out yourself anyway.

But now it was Monday morning and you had curled up on the couch under the heaviest blanket you could find with a half empty tissue box and a giant mug of tea on the coffee table beside you a few hours ago already. You were cold and shivering like leaves in the wind on an icey autumn day like today, even with your hot drink and the warm blanket thrown across your body.

You couldn't have been more miserable. You felt like you were dying. You couldn't go to work, or leave the house because you simply felt awful and weak. So, you decided to just lay down on the couch and wait for Lando to get home.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting for the familiar sound of a key turning in the lock, you perked up a little at the sound coming from the door across the room. Lando stepped inside and shut the door behind him with a soft sigh slipping past his lips, not noticing you.

"Hey... P2!" you croaked weakly and forced a small smile onto your lips when you saw your boyfriend step into your shared flat, suitcase in hand, his coat and shoes still on as well after he just made his way through Heathrow airport and probably (definitely) went through a mini heart attack too when his luggage didn't immediately come out with everything else from the flight, like he always does when you're flying somewhere.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he'd actually heard you call out to him. It was the last thing he expected to hear. Reasonable response, you had to concur— after all, you were supposed to be at work. Then he turned to face the couch and saw you laying there, basically drowning under the heavy fabric of your blanket.

"Hey, hey... What's wrong? Why aren't you at work?" he asked in a voice that showed obvious signs of worry as he quickly kicked his shoes off and went over to you, feeling your forehead with his cold palm. "Jesus. You're basically on fire, baby... I thought you just had a normal cough?!"

"Didn't wanna worry you," you chuckled with an innocent smile, but before you knew it, your chuckle turned into yet another harsh cough. According to your mum, you sounded like an elephant with tuberculosis, like she told you over the phone yesterday. Harsh but true comparison, you had to admit.

Lando groaned and shook his head in an exaggerated way. "Yeah but, you should worry me when you get a fever like this!" However his expression softened to one of sympathy as he sat down beside you on the edge of the beige couch, gently stroking your forehead in an attempt to make you feel more at ease.

"Why didn't you tell me you felt this bad when we talked yesterday?" he frowned, some of his soft curls falling onto his forehead.

"You just got P2 and you sounded so happy about that on the phone, so I didn't wanna dampen the mood," you respond with a shrug.

"The only thing you've got me feeling right now is worried, baby. Come on, you can hardly talk without having a coughing fit," he sighed, putting his arm around you and planting a kiss on the crown of your head. "Have you had anything to eat?"

"Not yet," you sniffled softly and shook your head, rubbing the bridge of your nose with your index finger and thumb. It felt like there was someone playing a damn drum solo against the inside of your skull. "Didn't have the energy to make myself anything more than tea. I feel like death..."

"I know, baby, I know..." Lando sighed softly and gently stroked your cheek with his thumb as he stood up and placed his hands on his hips, looking down at you. "I'll make you some toast, okay? But first let's get you to bed... The couch isn't comfortable enough for when my girl needs to rest. It'll give you a stiff neck, sweetheart."

Lando gently looped his arm around your waist and helped you get up from the couch, a soft groan escaping your throat. He held you upright as you slowly walked over to the bedroom where your boyfriend lied you down in bed and pulled the covers over your shivering body, enveloping you in a warm sea of soft bedsheets.

"Alright..." he said with a sympathetic gaze in his hazel eyes and fluffed up your pillow a little, so you could lay down more comfortably. "I'll make you something and I'll bring you your tea in a minute too. Oh and some of that cough syrup we have as well. I know you don't like it, but I don't like it when you sound like you're gonna cough up your lungs any second. Do you want me to make you some soup later too?"

"You can make soup?" you retorted raspily and covered your mouth as another cough slipped past your chapped lips.

"Well... no... But I can make soup from the can?" Lando suggested with a sheepish grin, which caused you to smile a bit as well. It was so nice to have someone who just wanted to help and make you feel better.

"That'd be nice, thank you..." you replied softly and smiled, though you quickly covered your mouth as he leaned down to kiss you. "No! I'll get you sick too!"

"Well, I sure as hell won't let you sleep alone tonight, so whether I kiss you now or have my arm around you for seven hours tonight doesn't really make a big difference, does it?" he chuckled and gently took your hand away from your face to press a chaste kiss against your pale lips.

"Stay with me afterwards?" you hummed softly, not yet pulling away from the tender sensation of his lips on yours and your hand in his.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to," said Lando in response and gently gave your hip a pat. "But first I'll get you something to eat and your tea from the living room, yeah?"

#f1 #f1 x reader #mclaren #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #comfort #sick #fluff #qatarsprint2023 #reader grew up on a farm #us gp 2023

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dilfl0v3rss · 1 year

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cleaning day

summary: cleaning day with connie

cw: fluff

word count: 1.6k

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

you loved saturday’s. it was connie’s day off and you had the whole day to get things done around the house. right now you were in the kitchen washing the dishes that were used to make breakfast. the smell of weed and cleaning products dancing in the air as you dried your hands off to go wake up your sleeping man for breakfast. connie was knocked out in the bed, laying wildly on his back in nothing but boxers and his gold chains sprawled out on his chest. he looked so peaceful, but today you were going to put him to work. you lightly tap his inked chest, blunt sitting between your lips as you watching him stir awake. “get up nigga, and hurry and eat your breakfast because you helping today.”

you balanced the blunt in your mouth as you spoke. standing with one hand on your hip while the other held onto a broomstick. connie stared you up and down. you looked so sexy when you were bossy. booty shorts squeezing your ass while your breasts peeked out the bottom of your loose crop top. your pretty pink scarf wrapped around your long knotless braids. the sight of you made his junior twitch in his underwear. “hellooo. boy i know you hear me. wake that ass up.” before you can tap him again, connie lightly smacks your hand away.

“i’m up mami damnnn.” his voice was so deep in the morning, making you contemplate whether you should continue cleaning or just say “fuck it” and spend the day in bed with him, but you quickly came back to reality. you already did that last saturday and you refused to let it happen twice in a row. plus, you hated cleaning on sundays. sundays were supposed to be days for you and connie to relax before having to go back to work on monday, and you fully intended on spending the entire day binge watching criminal minds with him.

“go eat” was all you said as you turned around to start sweeping the kitchen. before you got too far, connie gave your ass a hard tap, eyes practically glued to the sight of it jiggling from the contact. “and good morning to you too sexy”. you feigned indifference as you left the room, but your stomach was really doing flips. connie was just as sexy as can be at all times of the day.

by the time you finished sweeping the kitchen, connie was finishing up the rest of his plate, still in just his boxers as he puts it in the sink. “ima wash it later” he says quickly before you can complain. he knew you like the back of his hand. “aight well since i’m done sweeping you can mop this floor” connie nodded to your demand, walking towards the cabinet to grab some cleaning supplies before walking to the closet to get the mop. “unt uhh what you using to clean the floor?”

connie looked at you with a confused face, feeling that you should already know his product of choice. “you know i only use fabuloso mami.” he replied, holding up the container full of purple liquid with a smile. every time connie mopped an area, he used wayyyy to much product. a simply bottle of fabuloso should last at least a week and a half before you have to start watering it down, but when connie gets to it he can use up to half the bottle in a day.

the smell reminded him of when he was younger. the sound of old merengue music softly waking him. before long, his mom would bust into the door, fussing at him over how dirty his room was. she’d eventually have him get up to help her clean around the house. the smell of lavender fabuloso wafting into his nose as he would clean basically every part of the house with it until the end of the day. “ven aquí, chico loco. ayuda a mamá a hacer la cena.” his mom would say, apron on as she lightly shoved the wooden spoon towards him. “vale mamá”.

“don’t use too much baby. you be using damn near the whole bottle on just the kitchen” your voice coaxed connie out of his thoughts. “vale, mami” he mindlessly says before shooing you away. “i-i know i’m doin’ baby. and gimme my slides” he says, staring down at your small feet fitting loosely in his huge slides.

you raise an brow at his words before kick them off your feet towards him, waking to your room to get your slippers. as you slide your feet into your much better fitting slippers, you hear the music in the living room change, your 90s r&b being switched out for some of connie’s favorites. you were going to protest until you hear the familiar lyrics of one of connie’s favorite songs booming through the speakers. ashing your blunt, you made your way to the source of the music.

la vaca by mala fe played loudly in the living room as you listened to connie say the begining lines word for word. “ yo que estaba durmiendo en mi sabrosa cama. y me llaman para este tremendo tema, ah, ja, ja. c’mere mami dance wit me” connie only really loved this song because when you first met him you bragged about knowing a lot of spanish music.

you were embarrassed to say the least when the only two found in your playlist were suavemente and la vaca. connie didn’t judge though, singing both of them word for word in front of you to show that he knew them as well. he eventually taught you a bunch of songs he knew to widen your horizon. you smiled as you quickly made your way to him, holding each of his hands in yours as the two of you moved around quickly to the song. loud giggles can be heard as you watched connie get more into the song.

“pero ven acá tú, ¿y cuál es tu plan? ¡ay señorita! ven para-” he was so cute, but the two of you had a lot to do today. “okayyyy papa let’s get back to work” you cut him off. the need to get everything done today overpowering your yearning for some fun. “we can dance tomorrow if we get this done now.” connie frowned at your statement, not wanting to stop just yet, and before it ended, he quickly let go of you to add a song to the top of the queue. “un momento, mami…un momento…” connie mumbled his echo as you rolled your eyes, quietly waiting until you heard another familiar song begin to play.

you made a confused face as you begin to question your boyfriends choice. “you wanna clean to this? it’s softer than what we usually listen to.” connie takes your hand in his, placing his other palm in the middle of your back. obsesión by aventura playing softly around the house as he spoke. “we clean later. we bachata now.” he whispered calmly, the corner of his mouth slightly lifting as you looked up at him. you started smiling ear to ear as he moved your body to the music. this song always reminded you of your first date with connie.

he was driving you home, hand tangled in yours as the song quietly played through his speakers. you had no idea what was being said, but you liked it. you watched as connie sang along to the lyrics, much deeper voice portraying his own version of the song in a different pitch. he was so handsome. connie noticed you tapping your fingers to the beat on your thigh as he pulled into your driveway, instantly coming up with an idea for you to enjoy the song in a deeper sense.

“thanks for tonight, i had a great time boo.”you smiled before trying to leave the car, but before you can open the door, you were haulted by his hand squeezing yours. “of course hermosa…but it’s not over yet.” you watched connie exit the car, making his way to your side before eventually opening your door for you. “come on out mami. i wanna show you sum.” you take his outstretched hand as you exit the car as well.

“boy what you about to do?” connie shushes you before reaching into the car to turn the song up louder. “you dance?” before you could reply, you found your hand already in his with another strong hand in the middle of your back. “i-i don’t know how.” you panic, but you’re quickly soothed by connie lips on your forehead. “don’t worry i’ll teach you. just follow me.”

the two of you ended up dancing with the song on replay for about an hour, getting the hang of it within the first twenty minutes or so. before he let you go, connie made sure to walk you to your door, planting a light kiss on your lips. he looked into your eyes one more time. “ima see you friday, yea?” you look away, getting shy from the kiss. “mhm friday.” you haven’t forgotten the song since that day. labeling it as the song that started it all for the two of you.

“cmon hermosa just one dance.” connie whispered, gently pulling you from your thoughts. instead of fighting with him, you let the music take you as you looked into his eyes. muscle memory kicking in as you repeated the same steps he taught you that night. you knew the two of you weren’t going to finish cleaning today, but you didn’t care. feeling glad to dance the rest of the day away with the man you love. plus, there was always sunday.

#connie springer #aot #aot connie #connie #connie x black reader #connie springer x black reader #connie x y/n #connie springer x black!reader #connie x black!reader #connie aot

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souliebird · 6 months

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[[and then I met you || ch. 7]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

When you escaped your parents’ house and moved into the city for college, you already knew the basics of cooking. Since you had turned fourteen, it had been your responsibility to feed yourself. 'You are old enough to figure it out' was what your parents had told you. Living in the dorms didn't give you much opportunity to cook and when you finally had your own kitchen to really play around in, you didn't have the money to afford a full pantry. It was hard, but it never deterred you and you learned a couple of good recipes.

When Minnie came along and you were able to figure out her likes and dislikes, you made a few changes - you could finally afford to get all organic produce and bread not made from ninety percent sawdust and you started cooking even more because your little one didn't like things from a can.

And despite what the experts and people online say, you give in to every one of Minnie's food whims. You don't want to force her to eat things she doesn't like. Your parents never listened to you, even if the food made you sick - you ate what was given to you or not at all. You are not going to do that to her and the rules you have come up with are she at least has to try something. If she doesn't like it, she doesn't need to eat it, and the past few months she's been pretty good at telling you why she doesn't like something. You don't always understand her reasoning, but you accept and tell her that she can try it again when she's bigger.

Her favorite thing that you make is lasagna. You make it from scratch and she usually loves to help you and will spend all day excited for ooey-gooey cheese.

Usually.

Today is not a usual day. Today your daughter is an upset little banshee. As soon as she woke up, she was in a bad mood. She didn't want to be touched at all and getting her dressed was a nightmare. Lots of 'no's and crying about how all her clothes were itchy until you finally allowed her to just wear her swimsuit. It was the only thing you could get her to stay in. You didn't even try with her hair, running your fingers through it to get out some knots, but that only lasted a full five seconds before she was running away from you.

You are trying to be patient with her - you know that something must be upsetting her, whether it be waking up on the wrong side of the bed or she's starting to get a cold and not feeling well. She doesn't know how to express herself beyond crying and you don't blame her. You want to cry when you don't feel well.

That doesn't mean it isn't stressful for you. The back of your skull is throbbing from her screams and your own mood is sour because you don't know how to help. Hearing her so upset breaks your heart.

Matt is supposed to come by, thus the homemade dinner, but part of you wonders if you should cancel. Minnie isn't going to calm down anytime soon and you would feel bad having him come over just to witness a tantrum. On the other hand, tantrums are a part of having a child.

You decide to leave it up to him and send him a text letting him know Minnie is having a bad day. He quickly responds he still wants to come, so you return to working on your tomato sauce as quietly as you can.

Mouse has hidden herself under a throw blanket with her tablet and her plushies on the couch. You don't worry about her doing anything she shouldn't be - the tablet is child locked to hell and back - but it is a little hard to tell what she is doing since she's muted the tablet. There is an eerie purple glow coming from under the blanket, so you can guess she's playing one of her games. You've found a few that don't require sound that she enjoys - a few dress up games and matching things.

Occasionally you hear her sniffle or mumble but she doesn't call for you, so you let her be. She didn't really nap today, so you're trying to avoid another meltdown. You are hoping when you remind her Matt is coming, it will help her mood. You're a little jealous he is obviously her new favorite person, but also you are so happy for it.

Your original idea of taking things slow has been adjusted based on her reaction. You wanted to start talking to her about family today and build her up to the idea of having a dad, then have Matt over so she starts that association. That obviously is not going to happen.

You finish up your prep and start to assemble the lasagna, laying sheets of pasta down before adding sauce and cheese then repeating the process until the pan is full. You made a little extra, with the intention of sending Matt home with leftovers. He had mentioned in passing that he doesn't get to cook much and living off take out is not ideal.

The baking pan gets put into the oven and the timer is set, then you aren't sure what to do with yourself. It will take about an hour and Matt is scheduled to arrive then.

You could do some cleaning, but with how Minnie is, you don't want to set her off. You know when she gets like this, any little thing can trigger her, so the best you can come up with is scrolling your phone.

Still, you want to be with your baby, so you make your way to the couch. You keep your voice just above a whisper, knowing she's been itching at her ears all day, "Mouse, can I sit with you on the couch?"

You know she heard you based on the way the blanket moves. It takes a moment before you hear a tiny 'okay'.

You tuck yourself into the opposite corner and take out your phone to bring up something to look at. As soon as you start scrolling your feed, the glowing blanket mound starts moving towards you and you are easily overtaken by it. Minnie gets herself into your lap, still hidden away, then flops against your chest. You can feel her tablet against your thigh and you're pretty sure Scooby is jammed into your stomach, but as long as she's good, you're good.

You keep an eye on the time as you flick through your phone. A majority of the news sites you follow are filling your feed with stories about the explosion in Connecticut. An uneasiness fills your stomach when you see the word 'attack' being thrown around. The headlines say they have determined the destruction was intentional and not an accident, though no one has claimed responsibility. Tony Stark gave some sort of press conference, so his face is all over your phone.

You don't need this today, so you switch over to browsing some online shops. Minnie is getting too big for her winter coat, so you definitely need to get her one before the weather changes and prices go up. You'll have to get her approval before you make a final purchase, but it's good to check what is in the market.

About twenty minutes before you are due to take the lasagna out of the oven, Matt texts you to let you know he is on his way. You confirm that you got his message, then gently run a hand over the mound in your lap, "Hey, sweetie. Dinner is almost ready. Do you remember what I said about dinner tonight?"

The blanket gets tugged and moved until Minnie can poke just the top of her head out. She squints at you, like she is judging you, before mumbling out, "Mister Matt is coming?"

You give her a soft smile, trying to comfort her in any way you can, "That's right, baby, Mister Matt is going to come over and have dinner with us."

She squirms in your lap, before flopping herself forward again and declaring, "I want juice."

"Okay, sweetie."

You manage to gather her, her blanket, her tablet, and some plushies into your arms and get Minnie on your hip to carry her to the kitchen. You're an expert at doing things one handed and it only takes you a minute to make up a sippy cup. Once that is in her little hands, you deposit her into her seat at the dining table. You let her keep her blanket and toys, setting up Scooby and Pig so they are in the seat next to her and her tablet is on the table in front of her.

She is indeed playing a dress up game and as she nurses her juice, she looks at each dress option for the character she's dressing. As she does that, you start to set the table around her. You can tell that despite the cuddles and quiet, your Mouse is still in a grumpy mood. You really, really hope that Matt will help her smile a little.

Once everything is set, you check on the lasagna. It smells and looks delicious to you, and you take the sheet tray out a little early so it can start to cool. That gets Minnie's attention, and you can see her watching you out of the corner of your eye. She's stuck her fingers in her mouth, sucking on them as her eyes follow you around the kitchen.

You are so busy watching Mouse watch you, you don't keep track of the time and when there is a soft knock at the front door, you jump.

You scurry to answer, putting your hand over your heart and telling yourself to chill out. You know who it is and why they are here, and you don't need to panic over it. It's just Matt, you tell yourself.

It's just Matt.

You open the door and your breath catches.

It is just Matt, but Matt is Matt, and he makes your heart pound in a different way.

He's come right from work, so he's in one of his crisp, fitted suits. His hair is fluffed up, like he's run his fingers through it too many times, and he's got that permanent five o'clock shadow. He looks like some GQ model, standing in your doorway.

Embarrassment runs through you. You're not nearly as dressed up as he is. Even on his casual days, he looks so fashionable and cool, and you are wearing biker shorts and a black T-shirt. You look by no means raggedy, but maybe you should have changed. Just because Matt can't see what you are wearing doesn't mean you can be a slob.

"Hi," you eventually choke out and Matt's face lights up.

"Hey there," he says back, then he's holding up a bottle of wine and smiling so sweetly, "I thought I'd try contributing this time and I figured you might need a glass."

You can't help but flush. Today has been rather long and a glass of wine sounds amazing. You don't drink often, but he is right and a glass to unwind sounds perfect.

"You're a saint," you praise, and step aside so he can come in. "How was your day? Oh, you can put your jacket and bag to your left. There's hooks about chest level."

Matt thanks you, then reaches out to feel the wall. He finds the hooks quickly, then hangs his saddle bag before starting to remove his coat, "it was good. We were able to wrap up a few smaller cases - sometimes it just takes someone getting a lawyer for others to cave and do the right thing. Cheaper to just do the right thing than get sued and having to do it anyways, plus all the pay outs and fees."

"That is good," you hum, very much meaning it. You're glad those people got the help they needed. "You mentioned having a handful of cases, so that frees up your plate a little bit, right?"

Matt laughs a little, smile still wide, "A little bit. It's a nice change of things - we aren't hurting for paying clients, so we are going to try to take on a few more pro-bono things. We're getting into a nice groove - or so Foggy claims. He's leading that charge - making sure we aren't over working ourselves."

"I'll have to send him a thank you card," you tease, surprising yourself with it.

"He'd like that, he'd get to lord it over me," he replies. Then he turns to you and steps forward, reaching out and finding your arm. He ghosts his fingers up until he oh-so-gently wraps them around your bicep and steps forward until you're a breath away from each other and you have to look down at his chest, so you are not staring at your own reflection in his glasses. His voice drops to something quiet and intimate, and you can barely hear him through the pounding of your heart in your ears.

"I told them. About you. About Minnie."

You find yourself smiling at the news. That makes it more real, doesn't it? It isn't just the courts acknowledging Matt is Minnie's father - it's the real world. It's Matt wanting her - wanting to show the world he wants his daughter.

That's all you want.

You step just a fraction closer, and to keep your balance and let Matt know how close you are, you place your hand in Matt's chest. Almost instantly, his free hand goes to your waist, and you feel steady.

You bite your bottom lip, then ask, your curiosity so much bigger than your ability to keep your mouth shut, "What did they say?"

He huffs and lightly shakes his head, "After yelling at me for keeping it a secret? They want to meet you, properly. If that is okay. I told them I'd ask you before confirming anything." He hums, then drops his voice even more, "Karen got me magnets so I could hang all the work I got up on my fridge at home."

"You're going to need a lot of them," you whisper back to him. "I ordered popsicle sticks and puff balls so she can make 3D things."

"I can't wait. Karen got me a bulk pack of magnets."

You giggle at that, but before you can reply, a needy little voice calls out from the dining table, "Mommy!"

You pull away from Matt, his fingers tracing down from your bicep to your wrist before he drops his hand, and turn to walk towards your daughter, "Yes, Mouse?"

"I'm hungry!"

She's poked her head out from under the blanket and is now wearing it like a cape and her chubby little cheeks are pulled down into an upset frown. You have a feeling a tantrum may be close - there's nothing worse than a hangry toddler.

You take a breath, then smile at your daughter, "Okay. Mister Matt is here so we can have dinner now. Do you want to tell him what we are having?"

Matt taps his way into the main living space, and you know you should give him a quick tour, but you think if you delay dinner at all, Minnie is going to start crying, so you tell him instead where the table is.

Minnie doesn't seem to want to engage, stuffing her fingers back into her mouth. Luckily, Matt isn't dissuaded by that. He sets the wine bottle down before taking the seat across from Minnie.

"It smells like we're going to have lasagna for dinner. Is that what we are having?" he asks, voice soft and gentle.

Your little one rocks side to side, keeping her fingers in her mouth before nodding. Normally, you would remind her to use her words, but you don't want to push, so you relay her message to Matt, "She nodded."

Matt hums softly in response. He tilts his head slightly, brows knitting together, before leaning forward just a fraction, "Do you want us to leave you alone until you eat?"

You are surprised by the question then even more surprised when he gets the tiniest, 'yes' in reply. Matt's face softens at that, and he nods to Minnie.

"Okay. Can I still talk to your Mommy, or do you want us to be quiet, too?"

You stand, dish towel in your hands, ready to bring the lasagna to the table, watching your daughter interact with her father. He's being so gentle and understanding with her and you can tell he's being genuine. You can hear the care in his words, how he's giving her choice and not pushing her to talk to him.

You'll gladly eat dinner in silence if Minnie doesn't want either of you to talk. You don't know how it will work, but you'll try.

Your little one doesn't answer the question right away. She looks between you and Matt, before pulling her fingers out of her mouth to speak, "You can talk to Mommy."

"Thank you, sweetheart. We'll be quiet, okay?" Matt promises.

You quickly parrot him, giving your own soft smile, "Thank you, baby. We'll keep it down."

Minnie snuggles herself tighter into her blanket and you take that as a sign to get yourself into gear. You carefully pick up the lasagna pan and bring it over to the table, setting it as far as possible away from your little one.

Matt tilts his head towards you, and the food, "That smells delicious. Did you make it yourself?"

You go back to the kitchen to get your serving utensils and answer in the softest voice you can muster that isn't whispering, "Thank you, I did. I found an all organic, from scratch recipe online and have been using it ever since. It's even fancy, way too expensive, cheese. I, uh, made extra. For you to take home, if you want."

Matt licks his lips, and you can tell he's trying to hold back a big smile. It makes your insides turn in a funny way - his kindness and appreciation. You are, as sad as it is, not used to such treatment and for whatever reason that, combined with Minnie's attitude, and Matt being in your apartment for the first time kick starts your anxiety. You are definitely very aware of your heartbeat, and it feels like someone dipped your heart into ice water before it disappears into a hollowness.

This feeling isn't new to you, so you try to push past it, not let your sudden panic ruin things, because despite your little one's sourness, things are okay. You tell yourself things are okay.

Your tiny bout of distress goes unnoticed, as it lasts the blink of an eye. Matt leans back in his chair, letting his smile start to crack through, "You didn't have to do that, but I will definitely take you up on it. I can't turn away a home cooked meal."

You force yourself to smile and cut out a slice of lasagna for Matt, before leaning over to place it on his plate, "Guests first."

"Thank you," Matt practically cooes, "I don't think I've been this excited for a dinner in a long time."

The praise does all sorts of things to you, so instead you focus on cutting out a little slice for Minnie and serving it to her. As soon as the food is in front of her, she stabs her fork into it and shovels a piece into her pouty mouth. You don't blame her at all.

"Would you like a glass of wine…?" You ask Matt. Minnie has her sippy juice, but you haven't set out any other drinks.

He gives you a soft, "Yes, please," and you go to get the two wine glasses you have and a cork screw. You bring them back to the table and set down the glasses before going to open the wine. You haven't done it in such a long time it takes you a minute of struggling to pop it. Matt turns his head towards you, a little grin on his face until you start pouring.

You give Matt his drink, then finally make your own plate before sitting beside Matt. Minnie is still angrily stabbing at her dinner and you feel so bad for her. Even with her favorite dinner and good company, she's not having it. You expect when you put her down, either she'll try to fight you or be asleep the moment she touches the covers. You very much hope for the latter.

Matt, on the other hand, looks completely enthralled with his plate. You can tell his eyes are closed and he's clearly enjoying what he's eating.

You don't press for conversation - instead reaching for your wine. It's a deep red and delicious on your tongue and you can't remember the last time you've had a good wine. You can feel your shoulders starting to loosen.

Which of course means, everything needs to come crashing down.

One moment everything is okay, then the next, Minnie is absolutely screeching. Her face is screwed up in pain and you scramble to get out of your chair to get to her.

"Minnie! What's wrong?!" You try to ask her over her wailing.

Instead of any sort of answer, she grabs for her fork, which is stabbed into her food, and throws it as hard as she can. You watch in horror as the fork and a large chunk of lasagna still attached to it flies over the table and smacks right into Matt's chest. Panic surges through you as he also bends forward and covers his ears with a distressed face, ignoring the food staining his shirt.

You try to grab Minnie from her booster, but she does not want it and instantly starts to try and fight you, flinging her arms and legs everywhere.

"Minnie, please," you beg as she kicks you in the hip, "What's wrong, baby?!"

The only reply you get is upset screaming.

"Cover her ears!"

Matt is very suddenly beside you and clapping his hands over your baby's ears. She fights it, squirming to get away and smacking at his arms with all her might, but he doesn't budge. You stare, not understanding what is going on, what set her off, and you don't know how to help.

You don't know how to help and that sinking feeling in your chest is returning and you're scared.

Matt says your name again, then almost barks at you, "Her headphones! Get her headphones, the strongest ones!"

You don't understand why but it's something you can help with, something you can do, and you rush to the bedroom and grab her sleeping headband. Minnie has always told you this one works the best, despite the reviews of the others. You run back to the dining area and nearly stumble upon what you see.

Matt has somehow gotten Minnie out of her booster seat and into his arms, and she is octopus clinging to him. Her face is pressed into his neck, one ear on his shoulder, while he keeps his hand clamped over the other. He's lightly bouncing her in his arm as she cries against him and part of you becomes extremely distressed at seeing someone else comfort your child.

You push that away quickly to hurry forward and hold up the headband, "I've got it."

Matt nods, then turns his focus back to Minnie. He noses her hair, and you can just barely hear him over her, "It's okay, baby, Mommy has your headband. We're gonna make it quiet. I know it hurts, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry."

You hesitate before stepping towards them. Minnie doesn't flail or pull away as you maneuver the headband and get it over both her ears. It feels so awkward to do as she cries and once it is on her head and over her ears, she reaches up and yanks on it until it is in place. Then she flops back down into the crook of Matt's neck, still crying but somehow not as urgently.

You are unsure of what to do, but everything in you screams to touch your child, so you shuffle close to Matt until you can put a comforting hand on her back.

"I'm right here, baby, it's okay," you whisper, gently rubbing a small circle along her spine.

Matt shifts slightly, and the hand that was covering Minnie's ear drops and he instead wraps it around your waist and pulls you closer, so you are flush against him, with Minnie between the two of you.

That seems to help with whatever has upset Minnie so much. She stays clinging to Matt while he oh so gently sways you back and forth. Her screeching dies down to tired-upset crying and you know she's going to keep going until she passes out.

To your absolute amazement, Matt doesn't seem deterred at all. He keeps his nose buried into his daughter's hair, talking quietly to her as she sobs, "It's okay. Shhhh, shhh. Feel my heartbeat, sweetie. Focus on that. The bad noise will stop soon, I promise. Just listen to your Mommy and I."

You have no idea what he is talking about - what the bad noise is - but it's calming Minnie down, so you let him keep going. You keep your hand on her back, gently doing your own 'shhh'ing, trying to encourage her to calm even more.

"That's my good girl," Matt hums, before giving her the briefest kiss against her temple. "Do you want to go to Mommy now?"

You don't hear Minnie respond, but she must in some way because soon enough she is being transferred into your arms. She clings to you loosely and you can feel her little body starting to droop. She must be close to wearing herself out.

She makes a little upset whine between her huffing and puffing, and you instantly take up gently bouncing her like Matt has been doing. Matt stays wrapped around both of you, taking over your role of rubbing Minnie's back.

You don't know how long you stay there, curled together and soothing Minnie, both of you whispering little words of love and comfort to your daughter.

You think you are past the worst of it, but of course that isn't the case.

Minnie starts squirming and fussing, reaching up and pressing at her ears over her headband. You look up to Matt, to see his reaction and your heart runs cold and fear spikes in you.

He looks absolutely murderous.

He's lifted his head and it is turned towards your living room, his brows scrunched and a scowl on his lips. You instinctively hug Minnie tight to you, but you quickly realize you have nothing to fear.

He stalks across your living room to your open window and yanks it shut. Right away, Minnie loops her arms back around your neck and settles with a sleepy sniffle. You press your face into her, rocking her a little more.

"I've got you, Mouse. It's okay. Mommy's right here."

You don't jump when Matt's hand brushes along your back and he once again wraps you in his arms. You allow yourself to turn ever so slightly and tuck yourself closer, lowering your head so it leans just barely against his shoulder, with Minnie hidden between your bodies.

You feel safe in that moment. You're confused why Minnie got so upset so suddenly and you're confused at how Matt knew how to handle it, but you feel safe, and even more so when Matt's arms tighten around you.

"I've got you both," he practically breathes against you. "I won't let anything get you. I'm here now. I've got you."

You close your eyes as the panic and adrenaline washes away from you and the exhaustion of your day starts to catch up to you. You very much understand how rubbing Minnie's back helps her sleep - Matt's started to drag his fingers up and down your spine and you know it could lull you into Dreamland.

Minnie's cries turn into sniffles and then quickly turn into quiet snores as the minutes pass.

You stay still until you are one hundred percent sure she's gone to the world before pulling back just slightly, and whisper, "I should go lay her down."

Your face is so close to Matt's you can practically taste his breath and your heart starts to pound at the realization of it.

You don't know if it is on account of your words or if he was also aware how tangled up the two of you were, but Matt drops his arms and steps away from you, nodding, "Yeah, she sounds pretty sleep now."

You chew your lip, not liking how your arms are suddenly chilly, but don't acknowledge it, "I'll be right back."

You turn and grab Scooby and Pig, knowing another tantrum will happen if your daughter wakes up alone, and head towards the bedroom. It is surprisingly easy to get her to let go of you and you deposit Minnie into her bed. You place her toys beside her and tuck her in, careful to not jostle her. You dare to kiss her forehead before pulling away.

As you turn to leave your bedroom, your window catches your eye. It is closed, but in front of it is a little table.

Just like in your living room. There is a table under the window, with more than a few knick knacks on it.

Your brow furrows and you return to the main living area. Matt has found his way back to the table and is drinking his glass of wine.

"Is she good?" He asks, setting down his glass and turning to face you.

"She didn't wake up at all, I think she's down for the count," you say, glancing towards where your window is before looking back to Matt. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," is his instant reply. You take a moment to look him over, from his fluffy hair, to the tomato sauce now on his shirt, to his fancy loafers, before returning to his handsome face.

"Matt…how did you know where the window is?"

tags list:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium @

two-unbeatable-beaters

#soulie writes #fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil #and then i met you

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cuubism · 2 months

Text

Computation

part 7 of Complex Mathematics

(aka Dream vs Technology -- Technology: 1, Dream: 0)

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

Wednesday, 3:54am

Hob. what is the wifi password?

3:56am: why are you texting me when I’m in the same house?

3:57am: I did not want to wake you up.

4:00am: ……….

4:01am: Ah.

4:03am: it’s 12345. which is terrible security by the way

4:04am: how do i know this and you don’t? we’re in YOUR flat

4:05am: Computers are your friends, not mine.

4:10am: It does not like the password.

4:12am: alright i’m getting up

Dream creeps back into the living room, holding a cup of tea, as Hob’s tinkering with the router. Turns out it needed to be completely reset before he could reconnect it to Dream’s laptop. Not that this is that hard, but for some reason Hob doesn’t understand, technology is simply out of Dream’s grasp. Head in the clouds, too smart for basic computer skills, etc etc.

“A peace offering,” Dream says, placing the tea on the coffee table. He perches on the couch beside where Hob’s leaning over the router on its spot on the bookshelf.

“I’m not mad at you,” Hob says. He pats the router as its indicator lights finally turn green again. “I will take tea, though.”

“I woke you,” Dream says softly.

“You’ve woken me before, you will again,” Hob says with equanimity. Their sleep schedules are out of alignment, it tends to happen.

It’s the wrong thing to say, though. Dream cringes, hands folding in his lap. “I should be able to handle such things.”

“It’s just the wifi.” Hob finally finishes reconnecting Dream’s laptop and turns properly towards him. Dream still looks guilty about it. Sometimes Hob misses the time before they were dating, when Dream would bristle at him instead of caving. Just because he doesn’t like seeing Dream feel bad.

He takes the cup of tea and places it in Dream’s hands instead, briefly wrapping their hands around each other. “It’s okay,” he repeats. Possibly they should have a longer conversation about it, but Hob’s not emotionally awake enough for it.

Instead, he gets up and heads for the kitchen to put on some coffee. He needs something with more caffeine in it than tea.

“What are you doing?” Dream asks.

“Might as well get something done while my brain is online,” Hob says. He goes to fetch his own laptop from Dream’s bedroom. Lord knows it’ll need to get reconnected to the glitchy wifi again, anyway.

Friday, 2:05pm

Hob.

2:06pm: ?

2:07pm: The wifi is angry again.

2:09pm: did you antagonize it?

2:09pm: hang on did you just wake up now?

2:10pm: I cannot comment.

2:12pm: I assume you have been hard at work in the library since six.

2:14pm: more like hardly working in the library. i did make an app that gives you a gold star every time you do the laundry

2:16pm: Will that assist in your routines?

2:17pm: probably not but it’ll be fun for 5 minutes

2:17pm: wifi password’s still 12345

2:18pm: maybe I should make an app for that instead…

2:20pm: I do not think it would help.

2:30pm: …You are not trying to make said app, are you?

2:34pm: nope just realized I’m late for a class and had to scramble out of there. I’ll be back later can do couples counseling for you and wifi then?

2:35pm: Very well.

For a while after putting down his phone, Dream stares at the wifi router in vexation, as if that will possibly make the angry red lights turn green again. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. He knows even less what to do to fix it.

He needs the wifi operational to keep generating these fractals. He supposes he could go to the library and use university wifi, but that requires going out in public, which is preferably avoided, at least while he’s trying to work. So he will have to do something else until Hob gets back from class.

He recalls what Hob had said. That instead of working on his dissertation he had made an entire phone app about laundry. He had said it so casually, like it was a doodle to pass the time. Dream can use apps—barely—but he cannot begin to fathom how he would go about making one. Hob does not understand how even in his procrastination he is exceptional.

Well. This is something that Dream can do. Hob hates doing laundry—hence the app-based reward system—but Dream doesn’t mind. He finds it meditative. He will have to be more precise about fabric care instructions now, as while his own clothes rarely range beyond grey, black, and dark blue, Hob actually wears colors which might bleed into each other.

He puts on his headphones with some music, gathers up the laundry from the bedroom, and goes about his routine.

When Hob gets back, Dream has finished hanging the laundry to dry and returned to his contemplation of the router, this time still with his headphones playing. He’s lost in thought, and doesn’t notice Hob’s come in until his hand lands on Dream’s shoulder. Normally a sudden touch when he’s thinking would make him jump, but he’s become used to Hob.

“Trying to solve your marital problems through telepathy?” Hob asks.

“We were never married,” Dream says. “Indeed we are enemies.”

Hob laughs. He kisses Dream on the cheek, then kneels in front of the router. “You have to stop tormenting my boyfriend,” he tells it. It only blinks back at him innocently.

Hob can be very silly at times. “I do not think arguing with the inanimate object will help,” Dream says.

“You never know.” Hob takes the router down and sets about unplugging all the cables. Dream still doesn’t know what any of them precisely do, nor how wifi works. It may as well be magic.

Hob has it fixed within minutes, of course. Far more effective than Dream’s intense staring. He gets Dream’s laptop reconnected, and Dream is finally able to start generating his fractal. “Thank you,” he says.

“Anything for my love,” says Hob, getting to his feet again. “Guessing you want some time to yourself now to work on this?”

“Yes,” says Dream, with some guilt. Hob has come home to help him only for him to immediately bury himself in his work again. But yes, he does want to make progress on this at last.

“Well, good,” says Hob, and Dream turns to him in surprise. “Because I’m due for a nap.”

Dream still hasn’t formulated a response to this by the time Hob’s disappeared into his bedroom. Strange, that their routines can be so opposite and still meld together so well.

Hob pokes his head back out into the hall. “Did you do the laundry?”

“Yes,” says Dream.

“I could kiss you,” Hob declares, then blows one to him before disappearing back into the bedroom.

Dream presses his hand to his cheek, as if to touch a kiss that had really landed there. Smiles to himself. Then goes back to his fractal.

Monday, 5:02pm

Hob.

5:03pm: Wifi?

5:04pm: …Yes.

Thursday, 9:50pm

…..Hob.

9:50pm: I’m sitting right next to you.

9:51pm: ….

9:51pm: I’m just gonna get you a new router. This thing’s got problems.

9:52pm: I think it is I who has the problems.

9:52pm: That too.

Saturday, 6:00pm

Hob.

6:00pm: Is it broken AGAIN??

6:01pm: No. I got dinner.

6:02pm: Oh!

6:02pm: Fuck I’m starving.

6:03pm: Coming back from class now.

6:03pm: Don’t touch the router it’s in a fragile mental state.

6:04pm: Aren’t we all.

Thursday, 3:50pm

This time, it is the wifi in Hob’s flat that is stymieing Dream. He does not think it is broken. Hob has merely changed the password, as he’s much more diligent about internet security than Dream, and then forgotten to tell Dream what it is. Or, more likely, correctly assumed Dream would have to ask him again anyway.

He briefly contemplates trying to deduce the password, but it is likely an incomprehensible string of characters that Hob would claim is ideal security precisely because of the impossibility of deducing it.

He refuses to text Hob about it again. Hob has a class to teach soon—Dream has his schedule memorized—Dream does not want to distract him. Though speaking of…

3:50pm: You have a class in ten minutes.

3:51pm: FUCK

3:51pm: I got distracted

3:53pm: Now… running

3:54pm: You are not near the building, are you.

3:55pm: NOPE

Dream smiles to himself, thinking of Hob sprinting across campus. It happens often. Hob is good at many things, but time management is not one of them. This is why Dream knows his schedule.

He does feel… a bit silly, though. He should be better at this, should he not? Less bothersome to Hob over small things that he should be able to handle.

Normally he would go back to his work to distract himself from these thoughts, but he still can’t work on his fractals without being able to connect remotely to the university computers, which are more powerful than his own. This is something Hob had also set up for him, because Dream had not been able to make any sense of the instructions he had been given for remote login, and the like.

Sighing, he instead takes his sketchbook out of his bag. It’s been a while since he’s made any time for drawing. But he had started looking at fractals in the first place to better understand patterns in art, to understand resonances between what occurred in nature and what was projected by mathematics. And drawing used to soothe him.

So he starts drawing, sketching the fractal he has been generating—to the extant that he can with the imprecise instrument of his pen. Even in infinite impossible digital form, the branching spirals eventually become too small for him to see, though he knows they continue on in perfect replication forever, smaller and smaller until they disappear into atoms. He cannot recreate that level of detail by hand. But he tries.

By the time he gets another text back from Hob, an hour later, he’s moved to the floor to have more space. He’s found a bigger piece of scrap paper and is drawing the fractal again, in more detail this time, color-coding the different shapes, free-handing where he should probably use a ruler for more precision. He has achieved several more levels of replication than before, but it is still not right. He can’t get it right. If he could only use the stupid computer system he could get it right.

Finally he looks at his phone, several minutes after the text alert pinged.

Thanks love 😘

Unexpectedly, it makes him tear up. Always this happens to him. He does not realize how frustrated he has become with himself until it is too late.

Of course, to only make matters worse, he is still sitting hunched on the floor, pen clasped tight in his hand, teeth clenched so hard it’s hurting his jaw, when Hob comes through the door. He must have texted not far from home.

“Hey, love,” Hob’s already saying as he comes through the door, “meant to stop and grab dinner but I totally forgot— I’m sure I have something here, though— Dream?”

Dream hasn’t moved from the floor, or responded. Hob puts down his bag and comes over to him. He looks down at the fractal, which is still incomplete. “Did you draw that?”

“Obviously,” Dream bites. The pen is still in his hand. He drops it, scraping a hand through his hair. Great. Now he’s snapping at Hob, too.

Hob sits down on the floor beside him. He studies the fractal. Then points to one of the shapes that Dream’s colored in red. “That’s supposed to be purple.”

Dream stares at the fractal. Hob is right, it is meant to be purple. According to the way Dream had color-coded it digitally. He looks at Hob. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve watched you fiddling with it enough. We set it up on your laptop, remember?”

Yes. Dream remembers. He remembers how Hob had helped him.

“Wifi giving you troubles again?” Hob asks, looking from the drawing, to Dream’s laptop, which is sleeping on the couch.

Dream nods, then saws quietly, “Are you not… frustrated with me? Annoyed?”

Hob doesn’t need to ask what he means. “Sometimes,” he says, and Dream can’t help his flinch. “So?”

“So?”

Hob shrugs. “I would have missed that class if you didn’t text me.”

Dream does not understand the relevance.

Hob looks up at him, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Aren’t you annoyed with me?”

Perhaps he is, at times. Recently, Dream has been too absorbed in his project to feel much about it at all.

“I don’t know,” he says. “It is just how you are.”

Hob seems to think that Dream still doesn’t understand the point he’s making, and perhaps Dream doesn’t. Hob takes his hand. “Look. I’ve no idea why someone as smart as you are is constantly defeated by basic technology, but it doesn’t matter. Always having to be the one to fix the router is a small price to pay for having you in my life.”

Dream’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He… he does not know if anyone has ever put up with him with so little complaint. For truly, it is not only computer troubles. It is all the small things that stack upon each other to make him feel different and difficult.

“I find I do not like…” Dream admits tentatively, “when you must do these things. That I should be able to do.”

“You did the laundry the other day,” Hob says.

Why must he jump topics in this manner? “I do not understand.”

“Well, we don’t actually live together, you know. You have your own laundry. You don’t have to do mine, too.”

“I thought it would help you,” Dream says.

Hob just waits expectantly.

Dream looks down at his lap. “Ah. I… see.” Hob finds him frustrating at times, he had said so, but still wants to help him. He finds Hob’s admittance that Dream is frustrating to be a relief, in its way. He would only feel more on edge if Hob pretended otherwise, surely to snap later when Dream was least expecting it, as so many have done.

“Give me your arm,” Hob says then.

When Dream does, Hob pushes up his sleeve, takes one of the markers from the floor and writes on Dream’s forearm, the wifi password is I love you.

“There,” he says. “Now you won’t forget.”

Dream touches the words with a light fingertip. “This is not good internet security.”

“Oh, so you do listen my ramblings,” Hob says, laughing. Always, Dream thinks. “What, you’re going to throw out my valentine because I cut the heart out a little wonky?”

He makes as if to rub the marker off, and Dream pulls his arm protectively to his chest. Hob’s smile softens. He carefully pulls Dream forward into a hug, Dream’s arm pressed between them. Dream tucks his face into the crook of Hob’s neck. It’s one of his favorite places to hide.

“I’ll help you fix your program after we find some dinner,” Hob tells him, rubbing his back.

“I think I should give up on using computers,” Dream mumbles.

Hob chuckles. “See how you feel about it after I make you some brownies for dessert.”

Dream hums in pleasure at the thought, and Hob kisses the side of his head. And Dream touches, again, the words Hob’s written on his arm, where it’s pressed between them. And allows himself to smile.

Wednesday, 6:03pm

Dream is attempting to cook dinner. Hob doesn’t think it’s going so well. At least not if the blaring fire alarm, which Hob’s just silenced by waving a dish towel at it until the smoke dissipated, is any indication. But it does mean he’s been treated to the sight of Dream with his sleeves rolled up, delicate hands at work—and wearing an actual apron.

Having soothed the alarm, he leans against the counter so he can shamelessly ogle instead of helping.

“What are you even trying to make?” he asks, eyeing the still-smoking oven.

Dream pouts. “Only bread. It should not be so hard.”

“You didn’t wait for me to get home to watch?” He imagines the sight of Dream aggressively kneading the bread dough. It shouldn’t be a turn on, but it kind of is.

“You would make a spectacle of my misery?” Dream says, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, like he knows exactly what Hob is thinking about.

“Definitely,” Hob says, and Dream sighs, but turns to take the attempt at bread out of the oven. It’s… pretty blackened, to be honest. “Butter’ll save it, I’m sure!” Hob says cheerfully.

“Nothing will save it,” says Dream, morosely. He pulls off his oven mitt in apparent disgrace, and— Hob catches his arm.

“How has this not faded yet?”

For Hob’s writing saying the wifi password is I love you is still on his forearm.

Dream looks sheepish. “I got it tattooed.”

Hob tilts his head at him, confused. “So you could remember the wifi password?”

“So that I could remember this.” He traces his finger over, I love you.

Hob feels a blush creep across his cheeks. But it’s a pleasant feeling. “This is not even my best handwriting.”

“I know,” says Dream. He does not seem unhappy about it.

Hob takes his arm, touches the words, too. “You could have just gotten this part done.”

“I think,” Dream says slowly, touching the part that says, the wifi password is, “that this is another form of the same.”

And Hob… finds himself tearing up a little. Because it’s true. It’s so silly that Dream, certifiable maths genius, struggles so much with basic computer skills. But Hob will do any silly thing for him, because he loves him.

“Yeah,” he says, taking a shaky breath. “It is.”

“Unfortunately, you can never change the wifi password now,” says Dream, and Hob laughs wetly.

“I really can’t, can I? Terrible security. The things I’ll do for you, darling.”

“Would that include making proper bread?” Dream asks, and Hob nods, patting his arm.

“We’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

Now he’s wondering how he didn’t notice Dream getting a tattoo. Though to be fair, they haven’t seen each other as much in the past two weeks as they usually would, thanks to very inconvenient scheduling. Apparently Dream’s taken advantage of that time to do this.

“Can’t let you out of my sight for a second,” he says, as he fetches a new bread pan from the cupboard. “God knows what you’ll come back with next.”

“Be careful or I will consider that a challenge,” Dream says, and Hob pauses as way too many images flash through his mind. He shakes them off. He’ll never be able to focus on anything like that.

And Dream, the bastard, is smirking.

“Watch that look on your face or you might find that flour you’re holding dumped over your head,” Hob warns, but Dream only looks victorious, and utterly uncaring of the bag of flour he's precariously picked up.

“How will you ogle me kneading the dough that way?”

Hob swipes a dish towel from the counter and throws it at him. Dream yelps and spills the flour, which poofs up in a cloud of white landing all over his black t-shirt.

“Hob,” he complains.

“Serves you right, you dickhead,” Hob says. It only returns the smirk to Dream’s face.

“If you feel that way perhaps I’ll decide I don’t need your supervision,” he says archly.

Hob tears a piece off of Dream’s first attempt at a loaf. Or rather, breaks off a piece, which is hard as stone. He shows it to him as evidence.

Dream snatches it and shoves it into his mouth. Bites down with a crunch so horrifying Hob’s afraid he’s broken a tooth. But Dream persists, chewing it painstakingly and then swallowing, as if by force.

“Taste good?” Hob asks.

“Yes—” Dream starts to insist—then dissolves into a fit of coughing that swiftly turns into giggles. Hob loves it so much when he laughs like that. It’s so rare.

Hob laughs with him. Then frees the crumpled bag of flour from Dream’s grasp and sets it aside, brushes the flour and crumbs from his shirt. Then he takes Dream’s arm and runs his fingertip over the words again, still in awe.

He again finds himself having to clear his throat to avoid tearing up. But he manages, and says, “Let’s get you some proper, not burnt bread, yeah?”

“Please,” says Dream, a tad sheepish. “I am… very hungry.”

Hob kisses his cheek, then goes about solving that problem, too.

#this is so... silly. so sappy #complex mathematics #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #proofread this many times so here's hoping it's fine now XD

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its-your-mind · 9 months

Text

This is a call to action for all the PJO girlies (gender neutral) that I know are sleeper agents on this webbed site

Go read Trials of Apollo. Go do it. Do it right now.

I know what you’re thinking. “Tbh I didn’t love Rick’s writing towards the end of Heroes of Olympus” “There’s no Percy so why bother” “All of the Argo II crew are kinda OOC” and listen my friends. You are so valid to have those opinions. I felt the same way after Blood of Olympus. But listen to me. Look at me.

Now that you have had some time away, you must give these books another try. For me. For Uncle Rick. For the demon baby grain spirit who is only able to say his own name (Peaches).

Do not worry friends, I do not expect you to read just based on my say-so - I also provide:

A list of reasons why you (yes you) should go read the Trials of Apollo series right now gogogo:

(Spoiler warning - all broad plot things that you learn early on, but I know some people (including me) avoid that shit at all costs)

All the chapters are titled in bad haiku. Ya know that one scene in Titan’s Curse where Apollo just starts reciting apropos of nothing? That’s every chapter title. They’re all so bad it’s amazing.

Apollo is so up his own ass about everything, and it’s so cool to experience the same world through the eyes of someone who is not used to being in amongst the chaos

Oh yeah the plot. That’s a reason to read it.

Okay so

Basically Zeus continues his streak of being a shitty shit parent and decides to blame like… every bad thing that has happened on Apollo, and punish him by turning him mortal and enslaving him to a demigod girl named Meg who is a garbage gremlin with a little demon baby guard named Peaches (see above)

And like the A plot is they gotta save the oracles from shitty old Romans who wanna take over the world (stop me if you’ve heard this one before)

But like the B plot is about what it means to discover that you’ve fucked up, you’ve made mistakes, you’ve hurt people, and you gotta fucking own up to that shit

But also

You do not deserve to be punished for every horrible thing that has ever happened because of you, or even around you, and when a parental or authority figure in your life tells you that, they are an abuser and they are wrong

And yet

It can be so hard to fully separate yourself from them. Because for so long, they were all you had.

But that’s okay, because when you start to learn that the people who were supposed to care for you and love you were not actually doing that, there are people around you who will love you, who will support you, who will pick you up and hold you close and make sure you know that you are okay

And they can’t fix you

But they can give you the safe space to fix yourself

hmm that was an essay about themes and metaphors BUT THATS WHY YOU SHOULD READ IT

also there’s a wikipedia arrow who only speaks in Elizabethan prose (in all caps)

OH ALSO ALSO you get to see Will and Nico being a CUTE AS FUCK couple in the first book. Nico smiles. Also makes skeletons grow out of the ground when people annoy him. Fuck I love this little gay death boy so much.

AND. You get to see so MANY of your old friends. And they still! Get! Plot! And! Character! Development!! Even though they are only there for a little bit

OH OH OH there are two old lesbians who run a halfway house for people who are tangled up in magic shit with nowhere else to go

Did I mention Peaches? I did. He’s my favorite.

OH ALSO. This is “unreliable narrator” executed SO FUCKING WELL. Like, all narrators are unreliable. But Apollo used to be a FUCKING GOD. He has not had to deal with the reality of death all that much. He’s used to people praising his name and bowing down at his feet. But that ain’t happening!! And he is Unhappy about that!! But it also lets there be such a clear juxtaposition between what Apollo believes about himself and about the world and what is really true, which is such a wonderful way to write about recovery from trauma.

Ahem

Anyway it’s just real good Uncle Rick continues to knock it out of the park but he just did something different and we (at least I) needed some space from OG PJO fan brain before I could appreciate how fucking awesome this series is.

OH OH OH and if you like audiobooks Robbie Daymond (hello CR mutuals - yes, this is the one who is our beloved Blue Boi who we (Orym) so desperately need returned) is the audiobook narrator and he is. So fucking good. Absolutely NAILS the dramatic-ass-inner-monologue of this dramatic ass ex-deity. Also nails all the other voices as well. 15/10 audiobook narration I’m lichrally gonna go listen to other books JUST cuz he reads them.

okay why the fuck are you still here. GO. GET THESE BOOKS. If your public library does Libby you can absolutely get them on there. GO FORTH.

#trials of apollo #toa #rick riordan #uncle rick #pjo #percy jackson #pjo apollo #peaches the karpos #robbie daymond

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kazumist · 20 days

Text

WHITE TULIPS .ᐟ

✩ — gepard doesn't know how to make it up to you so he goes to serval for some advice.

✩ — includes: gepard x gn!reader. fluff. no cws. wc: 977. he's so silly and he doesnt know how love works at all isnt he the absolute cutest? reblogs are very much appreciated !!

“how do you… make it up to someone?”

“what?”

an awkward silence took over serval’s workshop after that. it wasn’t rare for her brother to suddenly visit, and it certainly wasn’t rare for her brother to ask for relationship advice either.

“what have you done this time?” serval asks his brother, arms crossed, as she looks at him disapprovingly. gepard looks away from her sheepishly in return. serval couldn’t help but sigh. “let me change the question to: what do you need help with this time?” she asks again.

it was gepard’s turn to sigh this time. “i had forgotten that we were supposed to go out yesterday and i wasn’t able to come on time. there was a sudden order that was issued to me and…” he sighs again. “you probably know how it ends.”

serval looks at him more disapprovingly and gepard just wants to shrink at her gaze.

“well, obviously you need to take a day off so you can make it up to them,” she says, a hand on her hip. serval isn’t surprised that gepard would come to her for this. after all, romance was unfortunately not her little brother’s forte, despite the fact that he inherited great looks from the landau bloodline. as gepard was about to speak, she cut him off. “nope, not hearing it! you need a break from your line of work too, geppie.”

“... i was about to ask what we should do on that day off.”

oh.

“oh! sorry, my bad.” serval laughs it off awkwardly and gepard just shakes his head at her. “well… let’s start with the basics. have you tried giving them flowers?” he shakes his head no. “then perfect! this is your chance. try getting some white tulips before you approach them on your day off. i heard white tulips are counted as an apology flower.”

after a bit of more advice, gepard left his sister’s workshop as she waved him goodbye. now, it's time to prepare for how he’ll make it up to you.

when the day arrived, gepard made his way to a flower shop nearby in search for some white tulips to purchase. he hasn’t really talked to you that much ever since that day, only because both of you are too tired and you don’t really see each other much despite living in the same quarters. (either gepard would come home too late or he would leave the house too early.)

strolling along the shop, he finally found what he was looking for. however, fate has other plans for him.

“gepard?” he heard from behind.

everything that was moving around him seemed to have stopped and he was frozen in place. he recognized that voice from anywhere—after all, it was your voice. gepard immediately had only three seconds to think of a response. but again, fate seemed to have some other plans for him because he couldn’t think of a response at all.

slowly turning around to face you, you were greeted by gepard who’s currently coughing into his closed fist with a hint of blush covering his cheeks. he’s embarrassed, you think. and you couldn’t help but find it adorable.

“you seem to be here as well,” he awkwardly says, desperately trying to hide the white tulips behind his back. “i decided to stop by to admire the pretty flowers, you?” as of the moment, everything wasn’t going according to gepard’s plan. his plan was to get you the flowers, pick you up, and spend the whole day with you as a way to make up for his past mistake.

however, as if fate is laughing at him right now, he just had to run into you at the flower shop. step one of the plan has already failed.

“i was just buying some flowers myself,” he replies, somewhat getting his composure back but you could still see his ears a bit red. you took note of his appearance right now—casual clothes and his favorite wrist watch (the one you gave him for his birthday) on his left wrist.

yep, he was definitely about to ask you out today.

truth be told, you heard from serval about the whole conversation she had with her brother. and that’s when you knew that he was anticipating this day. you knew gepard like the back of your hand, so of course he would take the closest date as his day off. but you were simply passing by the flower shop! you didn’t know about gepard’s plan at all (after all, serval was vague with her advice in the first place).

“really? are they the flowers that you’re hiding behind your back right now?” you chuckle, trying to peek at his back. gepard quickly hid it from your view and cleared his throat. “y-yes. actually, i do need to talk to you about something…” as gepard tries to find the right words to say, you beat him to it.

“yes, i would love to go out with you today, geppie.”

of course, gepard was shocked. how did you know? he knows his sister isn’t the one who would snitch on him when it comes to this type of thing. “how did you…?”

“it was a bit obvious,” you giggle. you take a step closer to him, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “i’ll wait for you outside.”

it was a bit upsetting how you couldn’t properly talk things out about what happened that day but you really had forgiven gepard before this day off came. however, you knew that this probably wouldn’t be the first time it'd happen. relationships aren’t supposed to be all about sunshines and rainbows anyway.

let’s just say that the one who had a shift that time in the flower shop watched the two of you in envy by the counter, even more after gepard was done paying.

#( writings )#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #gepard #x reader

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msgexymunson · 1 year

Note

Hey!

If your requests are open, may I ask for

Face sitting in the back of eddies van. 😏

Warnings: fem!oral receiving, obviously, slight fluff to smut, best friends to something

A/n: so I got this ages ago, then Rumour took my attention so I do apologise! But here it is, supposed to be a drabble but turned into 2k words Haha. Not as proof read as I would like!

Masterlist

Smoke hangs in the air; a hazy cloud seeps through and around the small space, stinging your eyes. You slouch languidly, back propped up on a worn out cushion, sitting cross legged on the floor of Eddie's van with a multitude of musty blankets beneath you. A miasma of weed clung to the pair of you.

Eddie's laying on his back with his head in your lap, one leg up and bent at the knee swaying back and forth. Ever the fidget, he always had to be moving.

There's a comfortable calm in the air, one that encompasses you both each time you smoke like this. It's as if the world outside doesn't exist; it's just you and your best friend Eddie.

Humming along to the metal playing in the background, you run your hand through Eddie's hair. You can tell he's enjoying it, closing his eyes at the feeling of your soft fingers.

"Sweetheart you have to stop that, I'm gonna fall asleep."

"Fine," you smile mischievously, and thread your hand into his hair, giving it a sharp tug instead. He jumps up in shock.

"Holy shit don't do that princess!"

"Sorry did it hurt?"

Eddie blushes pink. "Actually it felt kinda nice." He chuckles, running his hand to the back of his neck.

"You're such a perv."

"Well, you're the one getting all handsy sweetheart, I never asked to have my hair pulled." He winks at you, throwing you one of those disarming grins that turns your stomach into a fluttering mess of butterflies.

"I know, we should play a game!"

You roll your eyes "if you suggest I Spy I swear to God Eds-"

"I was actually gonna say Never Have I Ever."

"Eddie I'm not playing that, it doesn't work with two people! And you just want to find out freaky sex stuff."

Eddie looks shocked, dramatically holding his hand to his mouth. "Well I never! I wouldn't possibly do something like that!"

You laugh at him, hitting him playfully on the arm. "You're such a weirdo."

He opens his arms, gesturing at himself "uh, what gave me away?" You shake your head at him, but you cant help the smile that creeps across your face.

"How about Truth or Dare?"

"What possible dares can we do in the van Eddie?"

He raises his eyebrows at you. "Well, I can think of one or two..." Smug smirk spreading across his face.

You know that look, you'd seen it before. There was the time at Gareth's party when you had both gotten wasted and made out in the closet. Then there was the time at Jeff's house when you were so stoned you needed to be touched and had basically forced Eddie's hands onto your tits, not that he needed much encouragement.

This seems different though. You had been smoking, sure, but not excessively so. The atmosphere had changed. It felt charged, like a storm was brewing out of sight and you were waiting for the rain to start.

"Don't look at me like that Eds." You deflect, looking away, eyes settling on the tobacco and papers laying haphazardly on the floor. Grabbing them you start to roll, grateful to have something to distract you from those wide brown eyes of his.

"I'm just looking at you!" He shrugs his shoulders; you see the movement out of the corner of your eye. He shuffles closer, crossed legged in front of you so your knees are nearly touching. Blood rushes to your cheeks and reaches the tips of your ears, trying desperately to focus on rolling.

"I just, I had a question."

You look up, sparking the joint, and take a few drags before you finally return his eye contact.

"If you wanna ask something just ask Eds, we don't have to play a game."

You steel yourself for whatever the hell is about to come out of his mouth.

"Have you ever sat on a guy's face?"

But you certainly weren't prepared for that.

Coughing in shock, smoke trickles out your nose in a burning puff. Your eyes water, trying to clear your sinuses from the sudden onslaught.

"Eddie what the fuck."

"You said just ask! I just, I never had anyone do that to me before, I was curious."

Blushing crimson, you manage to say quietly "I've never, had a guy, do that. Ever."

"You've never had a guy go down on you?!" He looks shocked, eyebrows raised so high they disappear into his fringe.

"Guys aren't exactly keen to do that Eds, they usually only want one thing."

"Well I am, I mean, I could." Honest soft eyes gaze into your own.

"Are you seriously offering to-"

"Eat you out? Yeah."

"Fuck Eddie so poetic." You can't help but laugh at his crude language.

"It's just, I'll do you a favour, you do me a favour, you know?"

Of all the things you thought would happen tonight, this certainly wasn't one of them. Suddenly feeling far too sober, you take a couple more drags and pass the smoke to Eddie.

"Eddie, that's more than a favour, like seriously."

"Well, then you can pay me back sometime." He laughs, biting his bottom lip. You feel your pulse travel down to your pussy at his words.

"Eds, I don't want this to, get weird."

"News flash princess, we are weird. I see the way you look at me. Plus remember that time you flashed me in the park?" Shit forgot about that one.

"Fair point. But this is like, the point of no return."

He throws his head back with laughter, "shit princess you don't have to be so fucking dramatic, it's just head." He wipes moisture out the corner of his eye.

"That did sound like a movie poster line." You smile, glad that he can put you at ease so simply.

"So, is that a yes or a no? If you don't want to you can pretend that this conversation never happened." He reaches to you, hand stroking your knee.

"I suppose we could try it." He beams at you.

"Is that a yes then? I don't want an 'I suppose'"

"Yes Eddie. I will sit on your face."

He chuckles and reaches out to touch your face. "Can I- can I kiss you?"

You nod, breath catching in your throat.

Hesitantly he touches your chin, leaning slowly forward, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, giving you every opportunity to back out. You move closer to him, hand coming to rest on his waist.

Lips crush against yours, chapped but soft, slight brush of stubble against your skin. His tongue pushes into your mouth and you grip at his shirt, amazed at how strongly he's making you feel just from a simple kiss.

He reaches for your hips, pulling you towards him. Straddling his lap its evident that you're not the only one getting turned on; his hard length is practically straining to pop out of his jeans.

"Excited are we?" You roll your hips against him and he groans loudly.

"Fuck off, I've had a hard on since you pulled my hair." You laugh, but it transforms into a moan when Eddie starts mouthing at your neck, setting loose zings of pleasure.

"Fuck, Eds."

"Yeah? That good princess?" He sucks a bruise into your skin, pulling a gasp from you, feeling the blood collect and blossom.

"Can I take these off?" His hands reaching to your jeans, fingers dipping in the waistband.

You clamber off him in an ungainly manner, stripping off your bottom half, pulling your pants down in the process. Eddie sucks in a breath through his teeth at the sight of you naked from the waist down.

"Fuck, princess, ok so this is really happening, ok ok-"

You place a hand on his chest "Eds you're rambling."

"Sorry, I didn't think you were really gonna let me" he chuckles and lays down, grabbing your cushion to put under his head. "Whenever you're ready princess."

Taking a deep breath in a failed attempt to calm your jangling nerves, you straddle him, hovering over the top of his chest, knees either side of his head.

"Fuck me, sweetheart you smell really good."

"Eddie you're such a perv!"

"Its true!" You laugh, hiding your face in your hands, heart racing.

"Come on, sit." You inch closer to him, afraid to put your weight down, when he grows impatient and grabs your hips, forcing you down.

Eddie immediately pushes his tongue into you, wiggling muscle diving straight into your clenching hole. Your reaction is immediate, grinding against him with a broken moan flying out of your mouth. You can feel him groaning, the vibrations sending jolts through your cunt, electric pleasure grounding into your core.

His nose is pushing into your clit, flicking against you with each movement of his head. He licks a wide belt up your pussy, the flat of his tongue pressing against your collection of nerves.

"Oh my God, Eddie!" You screech into the van, entirely taken with the way he's making you feel, the world outside a hazy memory.

Struggling to keep yourself upright, you lean one hand against the side of the van, the other makes it's way into Eddie's hair, pulling softly, nails scratching at his scalp.

This only serves to compel Eddie, doubling his efforts, fingers pushing into the dough of your hips, massaging into you firmly. The noise of him slurping and sucking echoes; it's so loud it nearly drowns out your cries.

You're grinding against him freely now, unable to restrain the burning arousal collecting deep within you.

"Oh Eddie, fuck you're gonna make me cum."

He moves his head away briefly, just enough to speak.

"Please, please come for me. Come on my face." And he's pressing his plush lips to your clit, sucking on it, while his hand reaches to your heat, pushing his thick thumb inside you.

You weren't expecting the thunderbolt of fervour rushing through you when his digit breached your cunt. You buck into it, feeling every movement of his thumb, lips, tongue, hands; a wave crashing down through you.

You cry out his name almost silently, mouth hanging open in a wordless gape. Your release rushes out, ripping out of you, stripping away everything, all doubt, all pain, leaving just pleasure, and Eddie. The shock of it wrenches your muscles, forces you to fall to the side, legs trembling with revelation. Never had an orgasm felt like this. Never had you been left a shaking, whimpering mess.

You try to remember to breathe, but it comes out in ragged pants. Part of your brain is trying to tell you to cover up but your body does not care. You lie there, a shell, empty of purpose and thought, staring mindlessly at the ceiling of the van.

A face comes into view above you, shining with your slick, curtained with soft brown curls. You've never seen such a smug grin in all your life.

"That good, princess?"

You open your mouth to make a snarky comment, but it dies on your tongue. The noise you make is soft, and nonsensical.

Eddie laughs and wipes his mouth before kissing you on the forehead. He lights the half a joint that was left over from earlier, takes a couple of drags and hands it to you. You clutch it with trembling fingers, taking a shaky hit, then another.

Eventually you sit up, pulling a blanket over your legs.

"So, you ok princess?"

"Yeah just about. Fucking hell."

He chuckles, bringing you into his arms for a cuddle. "Fucking hell good?"

"Fucking hell we are doing other stuff."

He bursts out laughing, kissing your cheek.

"Whatever you say princess."

#ms gexy writes #thanks for the ask #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut

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thefallennightmare · 6 months

Text

Miracle-sixteen

*gif created by me, feel free to use*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: Hahaha i'm sorry

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse @loverofagoodbeard @jay02bo @niicoleleigh

Darkness.

Emptiness.

Lonliness.

The Void.

Whatever you want to call it, that's what I felt inside as I stared at the wooden box in front of me. It was currently closed and the funeral director said they could open it whenever I was ready. How can someone ever be ready to see their love one dead but dolled up to look alive? It's gut wrenching and disturbing. They're supposed to be dead. Why would anyone want to stare at a dead body to remember them when they were alive?

Maybe I should have cremated her.

With a broken sigh, I raised my gaze away from the casket over to the funeral director who was basically running the entire funeral since I have no idea what I'm doing.

"People actually have open caskets at funerals?" I asked again.

Elaine nodded. "It's very common. Should we open it?"

As I reluctantly nodded, I turned my back to the casket just intime to see Lana walk up to me with two large bouquets of flowers in her hands. Quickly I rushed over to her and grabbed one.

"Where do you want these, dear? They're from your neighbors," Lana asked.

"Uh," I gazed around, purposely avoiding the now open casket, and nodded to the doors at the opening of the room. "Right there is probably fine.

Once we set the flowers down on the ground, I brushed my hands against the thighs of my black dress. It was a chilly October day, but it felt weird not to be dressed up to attend a funeral; especially when it's for your mother.

She died one week ago, twenty minutes before I made it to the hospital. Even with all the anger I felt towards her, it crushed me knowing I wasn't there with her when she died. I wasn't there for her much the last few weeks, too busy on the road and pinning for a life that was never supposed to be mine. Lana was there with my mom at the end, as well as someone I didn't expect to see there, holding her cold hand.

"Do you think he'll show up?" Lana asked tentatively.

The subject was still a sore wound, and she didn't know how I'd react.

My bloodshot eyes lazily tore into her. "I told him to stay away. He'd be smart if he listened."

"Have you eaten anything today, dear?" She asked, changing the subject.

Through all the pain and anguish, I was forcing inside, a small smile pulled at my lips. For the last seven days, Lana had stayed in my house with me to make sure I ate, got out of bed, and took care of myself. I told her many times that she didn't need to. I was alright on my own.

"Lana, you literally made me breakfast, and all but forced it down my throat," I reminded her.

She gently patted my cheek. "Just making sure. I could stay another night if you'd like."

I firmly shook my head. "No, you need to go back to your life after today. You've done so much for me already. I'll be fine on my own."

"Well, maybe if you weren't ignoring all of them, you could always call Mr. Seb-."

"Don't," I pointed a finger at her. "I don't want to hear his name."

There was some commotion coming from down the halls, and various voices, and when I peaked at my watch, I noticed that the service was about to begin. Plastering on a fake smile, I straightened out my dress as I prepared for the next hour of the onslaughts of condolences. I wasn't sure how many people who show up today, my mom never talked about friends before her Alzheimer's.

Lana stood next to me as I greeted person after person, accepting their condolences with a pulled-tight smile and a nod. It went on like this for a long while and when the muscles in my jaw couldn't take the pain any longer; I excused myself and walked out into the hallway. I was only alone for a few seconds until my name was called from behind by a familiar voice.

Turning on my heels, a scowl pulled at my lips as my fists clenched. How dare he show up here after I told him to stay away?

"Hi," he gave me a small smile.

"What the fuck are you doing here, James? I told you at the hospital that you're not welcome here," I forced through gritted teeth.

I pushed through the door of the hospital room but came to a screeching halt at the sight. My mom laying still in a hospital bed with blood dried to various spots of her face and Lana standing at the foot of the bed, fear in her eyes. The monitors were blank as the tubes that were once connected to my mom lay scattered on the floor. But none of that held my attention. It was the man sitting in the chair next to the bed, my mother's lifeless hand in his.

"Who the fuck are you?" I demanded.

The man looked away from my mom and towards me. His dark hair was falling into his face so he ran a hand through it to push it back, his striking blue eyes boring into me. The sharpness of his jaw could cut the tension in the room. I sucked in a breath when a familiar sensation rang inside my mind. This man looked exactly like my real father in those pictures.

"Hi," the man stood to his feet. "You must be Y/N."

I raised a brow while crossing my arms. "Who the fuck are you?"

His eyes darted from Lana back to me. "I'm James; your brother."

Everything around me fell into hell beneath my feet as my heart stuttered in my chest. My mouth ran dry, and I had to swallow a few times to get the moisture back. Even though he looked like how our father did, I still didn't believe him.

"Bullshit," I spat. "How do I know you're not lying?"

James sighed before pulling out his wallet and handing over a frayed picture. Hesitantly I reached for it and when I realized what I was looking at, my heart shattered into a million pieces. It was of James and my mother, the day he was born. It was taken in the hospital room. On the back was written:

James Boyle. January 2, '99. My son.

"You need to leave," I said while thrusting the picture into his chest.

Tears burned in my eyes but I refused to let them spill.

James chuckled. "She's my mother. I'm not leaving her."

"She's already dead," I said.

I would have been more shocked about missing her last breath if Lana hadn't called me twenty minutes ago to say that there was a man here who decided to the plug. My mom was hooked up to a ventilator and was brain dead, as the doctors said, so he made the choice to end my mom's life. There wasn't any hope for her so I would have done the same thing. Although, it wasn't my choice to make. The doctors allowed this random man to decide when he wasn't familiar with my mother's condition.

"How the fuck did they let you decide to end her life?" I demanded to know.

"She made me her power of attorney," James said, not daring a glance my way as he stared down at our mother.

"You? Why the fuck would she let you be her power of attorney? You've been out of her life for years," I said while walking to the other side of the bed so I could glare at him.

James peered up at me with my words. "Unlike you, I've been keeping in touch with her. While you've been gone the last few weeks, I've called her every day at noon to check in on her."

I glared at Lana who simply held up her hands. "I had no idea."

"Her Alzheimers wasn't nearly as bad as you two made it seemed," James said. "She remembered me everything we talked. It was the highlight of her day when I called."

My shoulders were tense with anger and I was trying to hard not to make a scene over my mother's corpse.

"She attacked me with a bat and nearly choked out a friend of mine because she thought he was my dad," I informed him.

James scoffed. "That man wasn't your father."

"Bullshit! Jonathan raised me, unlike your piece of shit father who wanted nothing to do with me!," I bellowed.

The door to the room opened, a nurse walking inside with a pissed off expression. "Alright, there's way too many people in here. The coroner is coming to retrieve your mother and only one can be here for that."

James gave one last longing glance down at our mother. "I'll leave. I have a flight back home to Texas to catch. I'll let you handle the details of the funeral."

"Gee, thanks," I snarled. "Do me a favor, don't bother showing up."

"I'll be seeing you again; soon." James said right before walking out of the room.

"You've done a great job with the service. It's what mom would have wanted," James said.

I scoffed while shaking my head. "Just because you would call her to check in doesn't mean you know what she wanted. I was with her every single day dealing with her Alzheimers. I was the one taking care of her, not you. You were too busy living your rich life in Texas."

I'd done my research on James Boyle and found out that he was married with three kids and ran his own investment company: a very popular one in Texas. So while I was struggling to pay out my mother's medical bills, he was spending his money on expensive and lavish things.

"It seems like you've made quite the life for you here," James muttered while smoothing down the front of his tux jacket. "You're a merch girl for some band? Good deeds, was it?

"Bad Omens," I corrected. "And I'm their social media manager."

Was. You quit when Noah compared your Only Fans to amateur porn.

James hummed in response. "Well, it must be paying well if you could provide this kind of service for mom."

No, my most recent pictures and videos on Only Fans did.

I was making a decent amount of money from there and even though I quit tour early, Matt still mailed my paycheck to me. So those two combined was enough to pay for the funeral. Even though I shouldn't have gone to these lengths for a woman who lied to me about my entire existence. Maybe that was the reason I wasn't so heartbroken about my mom because of all the lies.

But the guilt that ate away at me every night because I wasn't here was slowly becoming too much to handle alone.

Lana asked me every day how I was doing but I'd lie by saying I was fine when in fact, I was one wrong word from a breakdown.

"I should get back to it," I motioned to the room behind him where the crowd was taking thier seats.

As I walked passed James, he gripped my elbow. I hissed in pain when his fingers dug into my skin.

"Did you go over her will yet?"

I blinked at him. "What?"

He lowered his face closer to mine. "I need to know if she left me anything."

Mother fucker.

My jaw dropped when I realized this was why he showed up, and prematurely pulled the plug. He wanted whatever was left in the will to him.

"You're such a piece of shit," I seethed while trying to rip my arm out of his grasp.

He held tighter, and I cried out in pain.

"I bet bitch left everything to you," James snarled.

"She had nothing to leave! We were broke, barley affording to pay her medical bills on top of our other bills. The only thing I have left is the house but if you're that desperate to have something, take it. It's yours."

I ripped my arm away from him and rubbed my elbow to ease the pain.

As James took a step towards me, a body stepped in front of me to block me from his wrath.

"I'd suggest you take a step back."

My eyes took in the site of Folio with his hair slicked back and black suit, face tense with anger.

"I'm having a private conversation with my sister," James pointed towards me.

Folio fingers twitched, the only sign that he was surprised, but pulled me closer behind him.

"It looked rougher than that," he said.

James took a side stepped towards me which only made Folio push me into a direction of another body. Nick gave me a warm smile as he wrapped an arm around me. Feeling his warmth eased the anger for a moment and I leaned into him. I only told Folio about my mom but knew that eventually the rest of the guys would find out. I didn't expect them to show up to the funeral, though. Tour ended yesterday, and I figured they'd want to stay home to rest.

"This is none of your business."

"Whenever it involves Y/N, it is our business," Folio said. "If you're done here, I can have a worker show you out."

James' gaze bounced from both of the Nicks then to me, his lips pulled into a tight line. With a shake of his head, he adjusted his suit jacket.

"If it means anything to you, I was hoping to meet under better circumstances," James spoke to me.

"Go fuck yourself, James." I spat.

Not wanting to be in his presence for a second longer, I allowed Nick to turn me away from him and steer me into the direction of the room where my mother's service was seconds away from starting. Folio followed close behind until we were right outside of the doors to the room where he pulled us to a stop.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

No, far from it.

I was holding it together during my altercation with James and was seconds away from breaking down.

Nick gently raised my arm and pushed up the sleeve of my dress to get a look at my elbow. "It doesn't look that bad. Shouldn't leave a bruise."

Without a second thought, I wrapped my arms around Nick in a hug, one he immediately returned.

"Thank you," I muttered. "For being here."

His hand rubbed at my back. "Of course, Y/N."

Leaving his embrace, I folded into Folio's. One hand wrapped around my lower back while the other smoothed the hair away from my face as I buried it into his chest. The tears still didn't fall but this comforting touch was almost enough to make me break down.

"I didn't think you would show up."

Folio pulled away to stare down at me. "Why wouldn't we?"

I shrugged. "Tour ended yesterday. You guys must be exhausted."

Nick spoke next. "We would have be here earlier but Jolly was afraid you'd kick his ass if we stopped the tour early."

"Can you blame me? She's got a strong right hook."

Spinning around, I smiled towards Jolly who held his arms open for a hug, which I gladly accepted.

"I'd never kick your ass, Jolly. You're too sweet." I joked after stepping away from his embrace.

We all chuckled as I took in the sight of the three of them, truly feeling the love and appreciation from them. They may have started out as acquaintances when I first began working for them but slowly over time, they had become good friends of mine. But if the three of them are here, does that mean?

I peered over to Folio. "Is No-."

"Angel."

Wiping my head around, I drank in the sight of Noah standing less than five feet away from me. His hair was falling into his eyes and the long dark jacket covered the black turtleneck he wore. Fuck, he looked so beautiful. Even with the anger I felt boiling inside of me from all the hurtful things he said to me a week ago, my heart still skipped a beat as I continued to watch him.

"I'm sorry," Noah said while stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his pants. "For more than I can even explain right now."

Tears rolled over my cheeks and the taste of them felt bitter on my tongue. My breathing became erratic as I did my best to keep myself calm. I wanted to punch him, pushed him out of those doors away from all of this, and I wanted to tell him what a piece of shit, asshole he was. But yet, more than anything, I wanted to walk up to him and press our lips together.

I needed him so bad, not in a sexual way. I needed the comfort and care he always provided. If anyone could get me through the rest of the day, it was Noah.

"I can't do this right now. The service is about to start," I sputtered before I slipped past him into the room.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #forced proximity #enemies to lovers #slow burn

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swimmingismywholelife · 5 months

Text

Noel (No Faith)

Summary: You wanted more from John and he couldn't care less. So why then was he at your door on Christmas Eve?

Warnings: fwb-to-lovers!John, angst, SMUT, arguments, soft domJohn, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), creampie, fingering, pussy licking, playing with nipples, missionary, honestly it's all very soft sex, HAPPY ENDING

WC: 3.8K

A/N: 🎶On the second day of Ficmas my writer gave to me, some angst and smut with dear old Johnny🎶 Hi my name is Janelle and I'm ashamed to say I love John Stones 🫣. The song that inspired this fic is "Noel (No Faith)" by 7 Minutes in Heaven! This is one of, if not, my favorite Christmas song bc it's just so good and I really think you should give it a listen. And this is I think my longest fic to date so I hope you all enjoy!

Link to the Song: Noel (No Faith)

"Noel, Noel, I wish that you would come home for Christmas (for Christmas)

Don't make me wait another year

Noel, Noel, I can't be left alone

You can unwrap the truth, my dear

You're all I want for Christmas this year."

~~~

You sighed with content as you finished putting up the last of the lights on the Christmas tree. You took a step back and smiled, proud of your work. You'd spent the weekend decorating your house, trying to cope with the homesickness of your first Christmas in Manchester away from your family. The star was centered perfectly on the top of the tree, stockings hung on your fireplace (mostly for decoration), and even though it was already Christmas Eve, you were happy to see everything come together. Now you truly felt ready for Christmas.

Well, almost.

Christmas was usually your favorite time of year. But this would be the first year you would be spending it alone. And the first year spending it along with a broken heart. You still replayed the scene in your head every night since it happened. Since the night John Stones left your heart in pieces.

"I don't know why you're mad," John scoffed, rolling out of your bed. "We had an agreement."

"I mean, yeah we did," you said quietly, sitting up.

"So then what's the problem?" he asked, beginning to redress himself.

"The problem, John, is that you treat me more than this agreement was originally supposed to be!" you said exasperated. "You act jealous when I'm around other guys, you basically live with me at this point, you call me even if nothing special is going on just because you wanna hear my voice. What am I supposed to think about that?"

John pinched the bridge of his nose huffing. "Listen, things were outlined pretty clearly when we first started this. You didn't seem to have an issue then, nor last night when you were screaming my name."

"You're full of shit, John, you know that?" you said as tears began forming in the corners of your eyes. "Things can change and feelings can change. And I'm sorry I fell in love with you. I didn't intend to! It just happened and I'm being honest. You've known how I felt and you did nothing but treat me like you wanted it to!"

John sharply turned to face you. "I've been clear from the beginning that I wasn't looking to commit. I wanted some fun and that's what we got and that's all it's gonna be."

"So all of our little outings alone? All of the nights where we poured our hearts out to each other? Inviting me to all your games so I could proudly wear you jersey? That all meant nothing you to you?" you asked.

"Look, if you wanna stop just say so and be done with it," he said.

A tear fell from your eyes.

"I guess that's it then," you said quietly.

Despite the fact that this happened months ago, you couldn't find it in you to move on. John made you feel so special, so different. You knew what the boundaries were when you agreed to be friends with benefits, but you couldn't help but fall in love with him. Every day that went by, you only missed John more.

Still, John didn't have to be such a dick about the whole thing. He was the one you led you on and left that night, not once looking back. It wasn't like you ended with solely unrequited love and he let you down gently. He made you feel like shit for catching feelings, like you didn't matter to him. You felt used and it felt disgusting.

So why did you find yourself missing him more than ever? Why were you holding out hope for him? Why were you still keeping your faith in him when he had no faith in you?

"Please come home," you whispered, looking at the star on top of your tree illuminating the room. You knew your wish was futile, but maybe this year would be your year for a Christmas miracle.

As you turned back upstairs, a knocking on the door stopped you in your tracks. You cocked your head in confusion. It was Christmas Eve and everyone you knew was spending Christmas with their families. You weren't expecting anyone to come visit. You were even more confused when you opened the door to find the very man you'd been wanting to see.

"John?" you said puzzled.

"I know it's Christmas Eve and we haven't spoken in weeks, but I just really needed to talk to you. Is that okay?" he asked, the words rapidly leaving his mouth as his body shook from the cold.

"I-" You hesitated. "I'm not really sure if that's a good idea."

"Please? I just need you to know and if after that you never wanna see me again, then I'll leave you alone," he replied desperately.

Letting the spirit of Christmas overpower your overwhelming urge to kick him in the face and leave him in the cold, you opened your door wider to let him in. John quickly stepped into the warmth of your home, rubbing his hands together.

"Let me start up the kettle for some tea. You wait on the couch and I'll grab you a blanket too," you said, gesturing to the living room he was more than familiar with.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said gratefully.

You took a deep breath as you made your way into the kitchen. "Dude, I know I said I wanted a Christmas miracle, but I wasn't emotionally prepared for this," you muttered to yourself as you filled the kettle with water. Once the stove was on, you grabbed a blanket from your closet for the man sitting in your living room.

"Here," you said, handing it to him.

"You remembered," he said quietly. You almost asked what he was talking about when you saw the familiar checkered pattern on the blanket. You grabbed the first one you saw, not realizing you'd instinctually grabbed John's favorite blanket.

"Truthfully, that was an accident," you said, trying to lighten up the mood. It didn't really work as the air grew awkward and thick, neither of you really knowing what to say.

"Um, I'll be right back and get your tea," you said awkwardly, quickly getting up.

You took your time, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the conversation. Why was he here? What did he want? Why Christmas Eve? So many questions rolled into your mind as you made his tea just the way he liked.

You came back and handed him the mug, John muttering a thanks before sipping on the tea.

"John, why are you here?" you asked exasperated, finally breaking the silence.

"I…" John sighed. "I wanted to talk."

You crossed your arms. "Well, you're here now. So talk."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the tops of his thighs, setting the mug on the table. "I know that I fucked up, really fucked up. And I left you hanging after leading you on for so long." He turned to look at you. "And I just wanted to say I'm sorry for ever treating you so horribly. You've never deserved it and you were right, you can't help how you feel about someone."

"Thank you," you said.

"I thought I'd be fine after walking out that day," he continued. "To me, it really was just a thing that we did and nothing more. But days turned into weeks turned into months and something was wrong. It didn't matter who I tried to get with. I just couldn't do it. Every single girl just reminded me of you. At first, I didn't really I was comparing everyone to you until one day when it hit me. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about you and how you make me feel."

"And how do I make you feel, John?" you asked, curling your legs underneath you.

"Alive. You give me that drive and passion to do what I love, to be a better man. I miss the way you pretended to be asleep just so I would kiss you awake. I miss the way you play with my hair after a long day at practice or a late night game. I miss the way you felt in my arms. I miss the way your eyes light up at the sight of the stupid festive cups at coffee shops. I miss how I didn't have to fear who I was or who I wanted to be because you always brought out the best in me. God, I just miss you so much and I can't believe how stupid I was for not seeing it until you were long gone," he said on the verge of tears.

Neither of you said anything for a while after his confession. The tension only grew thicker as John anticipated your reaction, mentally preparing himself for the worst.

"You still hurt me, John," you replied after a while. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about what you did that day. How you left me feeling used and stupid and dumb. I thought you and I were on the same page and I couldn't have been further from the truth."

John gently took both of your hands in his. You allowed him to gently lace his fingers through yours, shivers running down your spine as he thumbs stroked your hand.

"I know," he said. "I know, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I took you for granted. I'm sorry I didn't appreciate you while I had you. But if you give me a chance, I swear to you I'll make it up to you and show you how much you mean to me."

"John…." you trailed off. "I don’t know. I don't know how I can trust you again after what you did."

He tightened his grip on your hand. "You don't have to give me an answer today. You don't even have to give me an answer for the rest of the year. I'll wait as long as you need. Even if you decide no, I'll still be waiting here for you."

"Johnny, I don't want you to be waiting for me," you said softly. "That wouldn't be fair on you."

He shook his head. "No, Y/N, I'm the one who hasn't been fair to you at all. Waiting is the least I can do for you."

A silence fell, the two of you lost in your own thoughts. John was wondering if he'd been too late to fix things, if his chance was gone. Meanwhile, you were thinking if he even deserved another chance. It had taken you months to even fathom getting over him. Was this a test to see if you truly belonged together? Or was this a red flag that was being blatantly waved in front of you?

All the while, you never thought to release your hand from John's. It felt right for your hand to be there. While your head was in turmoil, it was also the calmest it had been since the day he left.

"Why did you come here tonight?" you asked, breaking the silence. "Why tonight specifically? Why didn't you come earlier or later in the year?"

"Because I know how much Christmas means to you," he replied. "I knew I was risking ruining your holiday, but I wanted to show you that I'm serious about this, more serious than anything I've ever done in my life."

"Will you stay?" you asked him with hopeful eyes, still being unsure of your feelings but not quite wanting him to leave.

"Baby, I'll stay as long as you want me here," John said, looking into your eyes. His hands moved from yours to cup your cheeks. "Would you like me to stay?"

You nodded. "You can stay in the guest room for the night so we can have some space. I'll grab you more blankets."

Too quickly for your liking, you pulled away, his hands lingering on your face just a little bit longer. While you wanted him next to you, it probably wasn't the best idea all things considered. You grabbed some spare blankets, alongside some spare clothes of his you couldn't bare to part with, handing them to him.

"I'm really surprised you still have these," John said.

You shrugged. "I still have everything you gave me quite frankly."

John's heart stopped for a moment. Maybe there was still a chance for you to have faith in him again.

"If you need me, just knock on my door, okay?" you said, leaning against the doorframe.

"I will. Good night, Y/N," he answered.

"Good night, John," you said softly.

You quickly got ready for bed, turning the light off in your room. You made yourself comfortable underneath the warmth of the blankets, but you still felt cold. How could you sleep properly knowing John was next door? Knowing that he wanted you back? You tossed and turned for a few hours, but you knew you wouldn't be getting any sleep that night, especially because you just wanted to be in the comfort of his arms.

You got out of bed to get some water, wanting to walk a bit to clear your head. You opened your door to come face to face with John, whose hand was raised indicating that he was about to knock on your door. You nearly screamed before you realized who he was.

"Jesus Christ, John! You scared the shit out of me," you said panting, putting your hand on your chest.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"That's okay, I only just lost a few years off my life," you joked. "But is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just couldn't really sleep," he answered, "and honestly I just really wanted to see you."

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, not really knowing what to say. You got lost in his eyes, that feeling you've always had with him returning.

Acting purely on instinct, both of you reached for each other, lips smashing desperately against each other. You felt like you could breathe again despite how hard the two of you were kissing. It just felt right that he was there with you. It felt right how his body was perfectly molded to yours.

John closed to door behind you, gently pushing you against it. His kisses were passionate yet still soft and gently, almost like he was afraid to hurt you. His hands were firmly around your waist as yours were around his neck, your fingers running through his hair.

"Jump," he whispered against you.

You obliged, wrapping your legs around him. He walked you to your bed, gently placing you on it as he climbed on top, your lips not parting once. He pulled away only to remove both of your shirts before returning to kiss you. His hands moved to your tits, gently squeezing them. You let out a breathy moan of his name.

"I missed his so much," he said just as breathlessly. "I missed your pretty little moans, baby." He squeezed a little harder, making your moans grow louder. "That's it, Let me hear you, Y/N."

His kisses started trailing down your jaw to your neck, his teeth nipping the skin. Little red marks were left in his wake until his mouth hovered over your nipple. He gently blew on it before taking it into his mouth, making a loud moan leave your body.

"You like that, baby?" John asked.

"Yes, John," you answered, your body squirming underneath him. "I love it so much."

John switched sides, your hands guiding his head there. He sucked harder, causing your hips to roll against his, groaning when your clothed cunt made contact with the bulge under his pants. His lips trailed down once again until he hit the band of the sweatpants you were wearing, noting that technically, they were his.

"Can I take this off, Y/N?" he asked, looking up at you.

You nodded your head frantically. "Yes, please take them off, please."

His hands grabbed the band and pulled down, moaning when he realized you weren't wearing any underwear.

"No underwear, baby? Are you trying to kill me?" he growled.

"It's comfortable, okay?" you squeaked out. "You know I've always preferred it that way."

John licked his lips as he laid his eyes on your pussy, the folds glistening with your wetness.

"Can I-" he started, but you cut him off.

"Yes, yes please!" you said desperately. "I need to feel your mouth on my pussy, John!"

He chuckled before licking your pussy, making you moan, your hands flying to grab his curls. John took his time licking from the bottom all the way to your clit. He repeated this motion several times, loving the way you tugged on him in desperation.

"Fuck!" you screamed when his lips sucked on your clit, your hips bucking into his face. "Fuck just like that!"

He sucked harder as one of his fingers teased your entrance. Your chest was up and down rapidly as your heartbeat quickened. You moaned loudly when his finger entered you, immediately hitting your g spot. He wasn't moving fast, but he was pressing deep into your pussy, making everything more intense.

"That feels so good," you said, "please don't stop. So good."

You hadn't slept with anyone since John. You couldn't possible bring yourself to. The only pleasure you'd gotten was from yourself, meaning your body more sensitive than usual. You felt your release coming fast.

"John, I think I'm gonna cum," you moaned out. In response, John picked up the pace, adding another finger. "I'm right there, baby, I just need a little bit more." John shook his head back and forth as he finger fucked you hard and fast. You screamed out, pulling his head further into your pussy as your release hit you. Your back arched against the bed, John taking one of the hands from behind his head to lace them together. You squeezed his hand as a wave of cum flooded his mouth, John happily licking all of it up.

You brought his face back up to your lips, needing to feel them against yours once again. You moaned slightly at the taste of yourself, John's hand gently cupping your cheek to kiss you deeper. He quickly took his bottoms off guiding his cock to your entrance. He tapped the head against your clit and your hips rolled.

"Is this okay?" John asked. "Are you sure you want this?"

You nodded desperately. "Please John, I need to feel you. Please."

He ran his cock through your folds before slowly pushing in, his body leaning over yours. You almost screamed at the way he was stretching your pussy.

"Fuck, baby, you're so tight," he hissed out. "When's the last time this pussy was touched by someone other than yourself?"

"Not since the day you left," you answered meekly. John's dick got even harder inside you.

"Yeah? This pussy is mine right baby?" he asked, bottoming out and stilling his hips.

"Mhm, all yours," you whined out, your body unable to stay still as he filled you.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking deep into your eyes. "Do you need a minute?"

"Mhm," you answered. "I'm okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm more than okay, baby," he answered as he stroked your hair lightly, making your heart swell.

"John?" you asked.

"Yeah?"

"Give it to me please," you whispered. "I need it please!"

"I got you, baby," he said, kissing your forehead.

John moved his hips keeping a slow but deep pace. Your legs wrapped around him, needing to feel him pressed against you as you kissed him. John normally had you screaming at the top of your lungs, but this was different. This felt different. Nothing more was needed but breathy moans into each other's mouths, John really only picking up the pace slightly.

"It feels so good, Johnny," you moaned breathlessly. "So fucking good."

"Yeah? Feels good baby, doesn't it?" he asked. You nodded, eyes rolling back. "This pussy was made for me."

"Mhm. So big," you babbled. "Fucks me so good."

"You're taking it so well," he praised softly. "You look so fucking beautiful when you take my cock like this. Like you were meant to be here with me."

Tears started to form in your eyes, making John still.

"Baby, don't cry," he said worriedly. He wiped away the tears that were falling. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I'll stop if you want me to."

You shook your head. "No, don't stop. I've just wanted you to say those words to me. Please keep going."

"Are you sure? We don't have to keep going if you wanna stop," he said unsure.

"Johnny, please," you begged. "I want this. I want you. I don't want anything but you."

"Me too, baby," John replied as he moved his hips, keeping the same deep pace as before. "And I'm sorry it took me this long to realize it." He brought his hands to yours, pressing you into the bed as your fingers intertwined. "Do you hear me? I love you, Y/N. So. Fucking. Much," he said, thrusting as hard as he could to emphasize his words. "And I'm never fucking letting you go again."

"I love you too," you moaned. "I really do."

"I'm close," he said, rubbing your clit.

"Fuck, me too," you said.

"Cum with me, baby. That's it. Cum for me."

You back arched as you had the most intense orgasm of your life, squeezing John's hands as you let out a loud moan. John groaned at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, triggering his own release. He came deep inside you, gently thrusting to get every last bit of his cum in you.

You both laid there panting for a moment staring into each others eyes, foreheads resting against one another.

"I think that's the hardest I ever came," he chuckled. "I don't think I've ever cum that much before."

"It felt really good," you admitted, "to be filled up like that."

"I love you, Y/N," he said again.

"I love you too, John."

John rolled off of you, getting up to grab a towel to clean you up. He gently ran it over your body, not wanting to hurt you. He cleaned himself before tossing the towel into the laundry and climbing back into bed.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered to himself in awe of you.

"Will you stay?" you asked.

"Always," he replied.

John looked over at the clock to see it was past midnight.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he said. "Thank you for being the best present I could've ever had."

"Merry Christmas, Johnny. Thank you for coming home," you said, your eyes fluttering shut.

"I wouldn't wanna be anywhere else but with you."

John held you tight that night and every night after that. And you were glad you kept your faith in him. For John Stones was your Christmas miracle and that was all you needed.

Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @neverinadream @chilwellspulisic @lizzypotter14 @pulisicsgirl @lovelynikol16 @notsoattractivearenti @nyctophilic0vitnir @shadowscorch

#john stones #john stones imagine #john stones fic #john stones x reader #john stones one shot #swimmingismywholelife #john stones au #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #footballer one shot #footballer au

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thebeast-dennis-etcetera · 2 months

Text

Coming to the Rescue

Prompt: Yours and Gibbs’ daughter calls you from a party asking to be picked up.

“If you had just listened to me when I told you to get off on Jefferson, we could’ve been here faster,” you stated as you arrived at the crime scene and Jethro put the car in park.

“You told me to after I had passed the exit!”

“Well if you weren’t driving 100 miles per hour, you could’ve made the exit!”

You both got out of the car, putting on your NCIS jackets as the cold evening wind sent a chill through you and walked over to where Tony and Ziva were standing.

“Took a wrong turn boss?”

Jethro gave him a death glare which made him shut up real quick and give us the rundown on the scene before us.

“Uh, looks like a hit and run boss. Single witness saw a black sedan hit a trash can and take off. They didn’t even realize there was victim until they went to look. Ran her fingerprints through the system. Name is Staff Sergeant Leandra Meer out of Arlington.”

Pulling your camera out, you began snapping photos of the crime including the trampled trash can and tire marks in the grass and sidewalk. Not long after, Ducky and Jimmy pulled up and began examining the body.

“Jet. Come over here a sec,” you called to your husband as he was speaking with one of the Deputies. Finishing up his conversation, he walked over to you and you pointed at the tire tracks.

“These are the only tire tracks the suspect left. Nothing on the street, nothing that indicates that they tried to brake. And judging by the direction of the tracks, the driver should have hit that bench by the sidewalk but swerved out of the way before hitting our Staff Sergeant and the trash can.”

“They intentionally hit her,” he gathered as his phone began ringing. You nodded in agreement as he answered the call.

“Hey hun. Everything alright?”

Judging from his choice of words and tone, you knew he was talking with your daughter. Worry immediately spread through you as you wondered why she was calling when she hated talking on the phone. She texted everything, even to Jethro’s outdated phone which always annoyed him.

“Yeah, we’re coming. Just stay outside and text your mother the address.”

Fearing the worst, you bombarded him with questions. “What happened? Is she ok? Where is she?”

“She’s at some high school party. She wants us to pick her up. I guess her friends left her there.”

High school party? She’s suppose to be at her friends house studying for a test, that’s what she told the two of you. But then again, that’s probably one of the most used excuses for teenagers when they’re trying to sneak out. You really should’ve seen it coming.

“Well let’s go. Ziva and Tony can handle this for the time being,” you rushed.

While Jethro filled the team in, you handed your camera over to Ziva and quickly hopped into the car, Jethro getting in right behind you and speeding off. You gave him directions to the address she gave you, making sure not a single turn was missed. When he pulled up to the house, there were a couple of people standing around on the lawn outside, drinking and talking.

Jethro spotted your daughter first, sitting on the grass with some guys arm draped around her and he jumped out of the car before you could get your seatbelt off.

“You, get lost,” he ordered to the kid who made a face.

“Who are you grandpa?”

Jethro basically picked the kid up by the collar with one hand and flashed his badge with the other. “I’m the guy that’s gonna put your ass in jail for underage drinking if you don’t listen.”

He pushed the kid back who stumbled a bit before grumbling to himself and going back into the house. Your daughter got up and gave you a hug before Jethro pulled her towards him.

“Are you alright? Did anyone hurt you?” He questioned her while checking her head, arms and body.

“No dad, I’m fine.”

He pulled her in for a hug and then took his jacket off to put over her shoulders.

“Hey old man! My boy here says you’re trying to ruin this party!”

We looked over to see a kid no older than 23 walking over, chest puffed out and head held high. Oh great. Here we go.

“Jethro, just leave it,” I urged, but he wasn’t listening.

“Yeah maybe I am. You running this little get together?”

“So what if I am? I’m allowed to host whatever the hell I want on my own property.”

“Not when it includes underage drinking you can’t. Now either you can shut it down or I’ll get the local police involved.”

The kid got closer and tried intimidating Jethro but failed. When that didn’t work, he went to punch him but Jethro blocked it easily and put the kid face down in the ground, with his arm twisted behind his back.

“Do something stupid like that again and I’ll put you in cuffs,” your husband warned.

“Alright! Alright! Just let go of my arm, you’re gonna break it!”

He let him up and walked back over to us, pulling our daughter under his arm and had her get in the backseat of the car.

You stopped him as he shut the door.

“Nice moves old man,” you teased, making him chuckle. A quick peck on the lips and you both got in the car, driving back to NCIS for a long talk.

#gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis #ncis fanfiction #agent gibbs #mark harmon #ncis request #ncis imagine #jethro gibbs x reader

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vodika-vibes · 3 months

Text

Nimble Fingers

Summary: You've never been a crafty person...but Jesse makes you want to try.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Jesse x F!Reader

Word Count: 2019

Warnings: Fluff

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I had Jesse ping-ponging around my brain, so I had to write him before I can write anyone else. Sorry.

You stare at the lumpy, misshapen thing in your hands, and you sigh, “Nana, I don’t think I’m going to be able to do this.” You finally admit.

The older woman hurries over to you, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla following her into your space. She takes the thing (it’s supposed to be a sweater) out of your hands and looks at it through critical eyes, “It’s not…terrible, sweetie.”

“Nana.”

“You’re new at this, baby. You can’t expect it to be perfect on your first try.”

“I…” You sigh, “I know, Nana. I do. But-”

“-but you want it to be perfect for your boy?” Your Nana asks with a sly smile.

Your face heats and you drop your gaze, “Maybe I’m just not made for crafts-?”

“Nonsense. Everyone can create.” She says briskly, before she tosses the misshapen sweater into the pile of half finished projects, “But, perhaps we should have started with something easier.”

You cross your legs on the chair and wait for her to finish her thought.

“Let’s try quilting!”

“...isn’t that harder?” You ask dryly, “On account of the fact that I don’t know how to sew?”

“Nonsense, that’s what sewing machines are for! On your feet, my little Orange Blossom!” For such a tiny woman, she’s remarkably strong as she’s able to leverage you out of your seat and drag you from the living room and into her quilting room.

The Quilting Room is filled with just about every type of fabric that you can imagine, and several that you’ve never once considered. And there are dozens of quilts in bags to be delivered to the people who ordered them. And there’s one sitting on a drying rack.

“This is new, nana.” You note as you eye the pale yellow and green blanket.

“Oh, yes. Your brother asked me to make a blanket for the baby.” She moves some crates out of the way, “Here you go, darling. Have a seat.”

Obediently, you slide into the chair, and look at the sewing machine, suddenly feeling a lot younger than your almost 25 years, “Nana-”

“Hush, I’m going to teach you how to use it. First we have to plan what we’re sewing.” She pauses and glances at your slightly overwhelmed face, and she laughs, “Okay, how about we take a step back, and just pick on colors and a pattern for a blanket, hm?”

“Well…blue and white for the colors,” You say, thinking about Jesse’s armor colors, “And I don’t know about patterns-?”

“We’ll do something very basic then-” She mumbles as she scurries around the room. Your nana returns with an armful of cloth and a box of supplies, “Alright. So, quilting-” And she starts to lecture you on how to quilt.

10 minutes in, your eyes are wide and slightly panicked, and you turn your frantic gaze to your grandfather, who’s been listening for about five minutes.

“You’re overwhelming the girl, Jyll.” Your grandfather scolds.

“Honestly, this is really basic-” She huffs.

“Basic for you, perhaps. But she’s not done this before.” Your grandfather lightly claps your shoulder, “Come with me, girlie.”

You scramble to your feet after him, and he leads you through the house to his own workroom, which smells like different types of woods. Your grandfather is a woodworker, though now he doesn’t make as much furniture as he used to, preferring to make vanity pieces now.

“Now, you want to make a present for that nice young man you introduced to us at dinner last week, right?” He asks as he settles in his chair with a groan, “Jesse, is his name, right?”

“Yeah.” You turn your gaze away from a carved tooka that looks like it’s going to spring to life and jump at you, “He doesn’t have things, and I just want to give him something-” You sigh, “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

He kicks a stool over to you, and you sink onto it.

“Not at all.” He smiles at you, “Your nana made me a blanket when we first started dating all those years ago, and I still have it. It was my most cherished possession…right up until she gave me your mother and uncle.”

You smile at him, “That’s sweet.”

“It is.” He agrees, “And, unless I’m greatly overestimating your boy, I think he’ll be happy with anything you give him, especially if you make it.”

“But, that’s the thing.” You say, “I can’t make things!”

“You think he’ll treasure it any less because it’s a little lumpy or misshapen?” Your grandfather asks with an arched brow, and your argument dies on your tongue.

Because he’s right, of course. He generally is.

“How about we carve something for your boy. Something he can wear around his neck maybe.” He strokes his beard for a moment, “Come over here, lass. Let’s find a good wood for this.”

It’s been two weeks since the day you finished the simple wooden ring with your grandfather. You carved the whole thing yourself, under his supervision, and then left it with him so he can treat it and find a cord for it to hang from.

But it’s finally done.

You used a pale colored wood, and carefully (but clumsily) carved your name and Jesse’s inside the band, while the outside is covered in vines. And the ring itself is hanging from a leather cord.

It’s not perfect. There are some obvious mistakes to the carvings, but your grandfather swore up and down that Jesse will love it, mistakes and all.

So here you are, waiting for Jesse in your apartment, with the small box holding his present on the table next to you, and dinner finishing up on the stove.

The box is something your grandfather made, claiming that all men need a good box to store their valuables in, and no amount of talking would convince him that Jesse doesn’t have any valuables. There’s also another smaller box inside the box, though your grandparents refused to tell you what was in it, claiming that it’s a present for Jesse and that you’re not allowed to look.

You learned a long time ago that your grandparents will do whatever they want, so you didn’t push too hard.

The familiar sound of your door code being entered reaches your ears, and you step into the hallway just as the door slides open. Jesse looks exhausted, but all of the exhaustion drains away when he sees you standing there.

“Cyare!”

You grin at him, “Welcome back,”

Jesse sets his helmet down on the shelf next to the door, and then he holds his arms out so you can throw yourself into them. “I missed you,” He says warmly as he folds you into a tight hug.

“You saw me this morning,”

“I know, a whole 12 hours without being able to see you, it’s practically torture.” Jesse says dramatically, before he pulls away and kisses the tip of your nose, “How was your day?”

“It wasn’t bad. I saw Nana and Grandpa today. They missed you at lunch.”

“I’m sorry I had to dip out on them,” Jesse says, releasing you so he’s able to remove his armor, “I talked to Rex, and barring a surprise deployment, I might be able to make it next week.”

“They’ll be thrilled.” You reply, “Mona is close to popping, and they want you there to meet the baby. I think my sister-in-law likes you more than me.” You add with a laugh.

“Now, I know that isn’t true.” Jesse says easily as he finishes pulling his armor off and rolls his shoulders, “Dinner smells amazing, what are you making?”

“Oh, I’m just warming up some of the stew Nana made for lunch. It’ll be a little bit before it’s done if you want to change?”

“Hm. Might not be a bad idea,” He rolls his head, “I’m going to grab a shower too,” Jesse glances at you and flashes a mischievous smile, “Wanna join?”

“Only if you want dinner to burn,” You counter, before you step closer to him and stand on your toes to kiss him, “I have a surprise for you when you’re done.”

“Oh?”

“Go shower, it’ll hold.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jesse kisses you three times in quick succession, before he steps around you and heads to the bedroom. You wait until you hear the water turn on, before you step back into the kitchen.

You glance at the stew, and try to smother your nerves, but finally it gets the better of you, and you open the box to pull out the ring you carved him. It’d be better if you gave it to him personally anyway.

You curl your hand around the ring, and move back to the stove to make sure that the dinner won’t burn.

Jesse emerges from the bedroom less than ten minutes later, and he immediately slides his arms around your waist and kisses the side of your neck.

“Feel better?”

“Much.” Jesse presses another kiss to your neck, and then he turns your head to kiss you properly, “Your shower does wonders in working out my muscle soreness.”

You laugh, “That is why I bought it.” You glance at him with a broad grin on your face, “If you’re nice, maybe I’ll give you a massage tonight.”

“I can be nice.” Jesse says immediately.

You just grin at his predictable answer, and then you nod towards the table, “Everything in the box is for you. Including the box.”

Jesse glances at the table and releases you, allowing you to turn and join him at that table. He curiously runs his fingers over the fine wooden box, “He carved a star map into the box.” Jesse says, sounding surprised, “Leading back to…huh…”

You tilt your head curiously and Jesse flashes an amused smile, “It’s more than a star map. It’s a road map back to here. This apartment. In case I can’t find my way home, I guess.”

You laugh softly, “That sounds like him.”

He opens the box, and pulls out the other box with an amused quirk of his lips. Slowly he opens the box, and his jaw drops, “Babe, I can’t accept this-” He blurts.

“What is it?”

“Uh…well…” He turns the box towards you, revealing a very nice watch. Actually, it looks almost identical to the watch your brother got when he reached the age of majority. “This is too much-”

“Check the back of the watch,” You offer with a small smile.

Jesse eyes you suspiciously, but flips the watch and stares at the back of it silently for a moment. And when he speaks there’s something fragile in his voice, “Welcome to the family, Jesse. Love Nana and Pa.” He reads out, his voice slightly shaky. “Babe-”

“I didn’t know that they were going to do that,” You say quietly, “But I’m not surprised. My family loves you.” A smile lifts your lips, “Almost as much as I do.”

Jesse slides the watch around his wrist, and it fits perfectly, “I love it.” He admits quietly, “I don’t know how I’m going to thank them for this.”

“A simple thank you will be enough, Jesse. You’re family now, after all.” You pause and bite your lower lip, your gift really doesn’t compare to a watch, but you want to give it anyway. “I have a present for you too.”

He turns his gaze away from the watch and focuses his attention on you, “You do?”

“I…It’s not a watch,” You offer sheepishly, “And it’s not very well made, I’m not really crafty-” You trail off as you pull the ring from your pocket and hold it out to him.

Jesse takes it from you, and slowly runs his fingers over it, “You made this?” He asks, his voice hushed.

“Yeah, I mean. Grandpa helped a lot. And it’s not perfect, and it you don’t like it-”

“I love it.” He interrupts a broad grin on his face, “Did you do the carvings too?”

“Um…yeah.” You admit, “they’re a little wonky-”

Jesse drapes the ring around his neck and slides his chair so he’s sitting right next to you, “I love it. I love you.”

Your face heats, “I just wanted to show you how much I love you-,” You admit.

You’re unable to finish your sentence as Jesse crashes his lips against yours, “I love it.” he repeats against your lips, “So much. Almost as much as I love you.”

You kiss him gently, “I love you too.”

#star wars #tcw #arc trooper jesse x reader #jesse x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

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klbwriting · 3 months

Text

Adventures in Atlantean-Sitting

Chapter 3

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Orm tries to escape, but YN is ready for that

Arthur was gone and it was just Orm and YN now. She was smiling as she led him back to the bedroom. He looked around, supposing it would do. He sat on the bed and winced a little. YN cocked her head to the side, eyebrows raising. Orm forced a smile.

“Someone is a grumpy gus today,” she said. Orm’s smile dropped. “O come on, I’m not going to hover over you 24/7, you’re a grown man, but you have to stay here. Someone wants to get you in trouble in Atlantis and I have a feeling Arthur wouldn’t like that. And since he is my friend, I’m going to keep you safe.” He rolled his eyes.

“I can just leave, disappear into the wilderness,” he offered. She pointed out the window where you could see nothing but trees.

“That’s what you just did honey, and guess what I have a roof and free food for you, so how about you stop bitching and settle in?” she said. He sat back a little in surprise. She was so smiley and overly kind just a second ago, what was this? “Now, I’m going to bake some cookies to celebrate your arrival, stay here. I’m sure Arthur doesn’t want to have come back right away.” She turned on her heel and left the room. After a few minutes Orm heard her in the kitchen and he sighed. He noticed her watching him through the doorway, making sure she circled the room as she mixed something in a bowl.

“Perfect,” he grumbled. He had to at least wait a day. Then he knew getting a message to Arthur would take more than a few minutes, he would be well into his duties again tomorrow. Too busy hopefully to come track Orm down right away. He would wait a day and then tomorrow he would turn on the charm, get her to settle down and stop watching him so closely. Then he would make his escape, find a bus station and head to the other side of the country as fast as he could.

The next day Orm sat at the table having yet another chocolate chip cookie from the batch that YN had made. He had to admit, him running would mean no more cookies and that was almost a reason to stay. YN was reading a book on the couch, but she hadn’t turned a page in about ten minutes, so he figured she was listening for him to move more than reading. He sat back, making a small noise in the chair and he saw her sit a little straighter, head tilting as she listened. He smirked.

“So you just live here all alone? Do you have visitors? Friends? Family?” he asked. She closed her book and turned to face him. She looked pained for a second before masking her face as neutral. He almost regretted asking.

“My family kicked me out when I was a teenager. I knew more than I should about what my parents were doing in their free time,” she said. “Rest of the town wasn’t too pleased what I knew about them either.” She looked at him. “I always know where someone I touch is. I didn’t have very good control over the power then. Friends get weird around me once they realize what I can do, and visitors? You were brought here for a reason. My house is completely off the map, not even the utility places that provide me basics knows I’m on the books, if anything goes wrong I contact Batman and he takes care of it. But don’t think I know who Batman actually is, I don’t pry either.” Orm stared at her. She had it rough it seemed, no real connections in her life other than the Justice League, who seemed to just use her for their own purposes. It was sad. She seemed sweet, was very kind, and from the little they talked she was tough and funny too. He sighed, he still needed to run.

“I’m the only person who has been here for more than a few minutes?” he asked. She huffed, clearly uncomfortable with this conversation. “I’ll take that as a yes. You know, if you’re lonely…”

“Are you about to try and seduce me?” she asked, eyeing him. Orm turned bright red, time to rethink his strategy.

“No, actually, that was not my intention. I was going to say if you were lonely, you could go out to the city, I’ll go with you, and we could go anywhere you want,” he said. She still was staring at him before shaking her head. He moved to walk over to her, leaning on the couch behind her, looking down at her face. “Ok, no city, how about just a hike? Something to get out of the house for a while? Please?” He put on the nicest, kindest smile he could. It took a long second, but she smiled back.

“Fine,” she said, getting up and putting on her shoes. Orm did the same. This was perfect. He was going to be faster than her and he could easily escape once they got far enough away. He had money in his wallet, and he didn’t need anything that was in his duffle. Maybe he would send for it later once he got settled somewhere and all this died down. He would apologize to YN then too, he didn’t want to do this, but he had to get away.

They started by leaving the cottage and heading behind the house where there were several different trails. She started down one, not asking which way he wanted to go. She seemed to have a destination in mind, and he would let her lead. She kept glancing back at him, making sure he was following. He slowed after they got several hundred feet from the house and when she seemed distracted, he took off. He heard a frustrated shout, but he was already off.

Several hours later and Orm was at a bus station in Coast City again, waiting for his bus to leave. His leg bounced nervously, not wanting to be caught here. But he had an eye on the main entrance and assumed he was safe. He had no idea how many connections YN had.

Darrell, one of the janitors, let YN in through an employee entrance that was no where near the main entrance. She took her time getting the tack ready, watching Orm sitting and staring at the door. He really thought his would work, what an idiot. She approached him, being quiet and slow, in case he sensed something was wrong. She could see him about to turn and look at her but lucky for her a fight started near the terminal gates, and his focus went to that. She took advantage, pushing the tack into the back of his neck before stepping over the back of the bench and sitting next to him, cuffing him with a special bracelet. Orm groaned, feeling like energy and strength was draining out of him.

“What did you do to me?” he asked, trying to touch the tack, but it shocked him when he got too close.

“Well, I work with a lot of superheroes but also supervillains. I have developed ways to make sure those with powers are disabled before I try and take them in. The tack has a low dose tranquilizer, not enough to make a superpowered person sleep, but enough to make them relatively docile for several minutes, leaving me time to snap this cuff on them. This is an inhibitor; it completely removes your abilities. I know, because I used it on Arthur before,” she said. “Let me know when you get feeling back into your legs, we can go back to my place then. And don’t try getting the cuff off, it knows my DNA, if you try to do it it’ll dose you with the tranq again and it’ll shock you for being cheeky.” Orm growled. “O don’t try to flirt with me now.” YN smirked at him. Orm just glowered.

“I think I can walk again,” he muttered, arms folded like a petulant toddler. YN simply nodded and stood, taking his arm like they were a couple having a quarrel. She walked him out of the station and to her car parked nearby. Once they were driving, she sighed.

“I don’t want you here anymore then you want to be here Orm, but I promised I would protect you, keep you from going back to prison or worse, getting executed, and that is what I’m going to do,” she said. Orm glared out the window. “Ok, you don’t have to talk to me, but I am sorry that you are in this situation. I’m sure this just feels like another prison, and from what Arthur has told me you’ve been imprisoned in one way or another your whole life. I hope you will let me show you that yes, you have to stay with me, but it is in no way a bad thing. I’m not going to hurt you, abuse you, use you, none of that.” Orm looked at her and saw her focusing on the road ahead, but he could see in her eyes that she understood something of his predicament. She was also being forced to deal with him, and she was in a prison of her own in some respects. He sighed.

“Thank you, for taking care of me. And for the cookies,” he said finally. She smiled.

“I made some more while I was waiting for you to stop moving, although your side trip into that adult store, what was that about?” she asked. Orm blushed, having had no idea what was meant by ‘adult’.

“Needed a bathroom,” he finally admitted. YN laughed out loud, and he found it was a sweet sound, something he would like to hear again.

#orm marius #king orm #ormmarius #orm marius x reader #king orm x reader #kingorm #ormmariusxreader #kingormxreader #ormseries5

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kradogsrats · 9 months

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If Soren seems to have gotten sick when he was a toddler, do you think Lissa left shortly after Claudia was born…? Maybe that doesn’t quite line up, actually…

Okay so I saw someone ask Aaron Ehasz a similar question about the timeline of Soren's illness re: Viren's dream vs. the events presented in Puzzle House, and I cannot remember where it was but his response was something like "hm... well you should probably believe the show."

Which immediately made me go "oh my god was Soren actually dead for like three to five years and Kpp'Ar was looking for a unicorn horn to resurrect him in a manner similar to the Star magic spell that 'restores bodies to separated spirits' and then instead Viren stole Ziard's staff from him and used that??????" which is a) insane, and b) has several reasons it probably isn't the case. But it's a thought I had.

Anyway, let's look at our contrasting sources:

Puzzle House

Puzzle House establishes the following sequence of events:

Soren is ill to the point of dying

Kpp'Ar disappears

Soren gets better

Lissa leaves

It's also implied that this was all pretty recent, between King Atticus's concern for Viren and Soren's for Claudia:

So, how old are all these extremely precocious young children in Puzzle House?

Well, Sarai is... quite pregnant. She's got a pretty small frame, but I'd still put her at like 30 weeks, minimum. Ezran is pinned at 10 in the official character lineup. (In s4 he says he was "nine years old" when Harrow was killed. Given his March birthday, he is probably fudging that a bit since s1 starts mid-May so he was pretty recently 10 at the time.) Viren also puts Harrow's coronation and Sarai's death at nine years earlier, at which point I would estimate Ezran at roughly 6-8 months, given how he is portrayed.

Also given the mid-May start to s1, we also have Claudia at almost 17, and Soren at about 18 and a half. Soren is about 18 months older than Claudia. So between all of that, we can probably ballpark Puzzle House at about one year before Harrow's coronation. This puts Soren at about 8 and a half, and Claudia at almost 7. (And Callum at about to turn 5, if anyone's keeping track.)

Given the way it's spoken about, I would not put Soren's recovery at earlier than 6 months prior, and probably more like 3 or so. This roughly lines up with the estimates I had for everything before, so idk go me or whatever.

Strangers

We do also have a third source for details on Soren's illness, which is the Strangers short from Reflections. This establishes that Soren was old enough to remember details about that time:

If Soren was the age he appears in Viren's dream, then a) he probably wouldn't remember any of it, and b) Claudia would have been an infant. Now, an infant can definitely cry in their room until morning, but I do think the implication here is supposed to be that she was old enough to understand what was happening and have emotions about it.

Additionally, Soren thinks of the slow breaths practice as something he did therapeutically for a long time:

Basically, I think it's pretty clear between this and the info in Puzzle House that the Puzzle House timeline is accurate, but Soren initially developed what was actually a chronic illness much earlier.

Viren's Dream

Now, what about Viren's dream?

It's incredibly difficult to pinpoint ages of children in animation purely visually, so I'm mostly basing an estimate of 2-3 years old for Soren during Viren's dream off of his demonstrated stage of linguistic development and the fact that he's able to run. He could be delayed in one or both areas, though.

Viren dreams of Soren turning to stone, similar to how Thunder did (and how Viren does in the opening). This is interesting in that the implication is certainly death, but it also has heavy ties to dark magic and the other themes of Viren's dreaming, which I would say put it as more related to something along the lines of a "sealed fate" rather than literal death. Dreaming Viren knows what he didn't know when Soren was that age, and probably developed his first recognizable symptoms—that this illness would come close to killing him, and Viren would give up everything to save him.

There's also a possible implication there that dark magic was actually what caused Soren's illness in the first place, which could be something interesting to explore. (And I've definitely seen people explore it, before.)

Anyway, like most of Viren's dream, it's accurate but not literal.

TL;DR: Dreams are fucking weird, and Claudia was still probably between six and seven years old when Lissa left the family.

#i'm definitely going to fuck up some extremely basic math here #anyway basically the only thing i was wrong about was that kpp'ar disappears before soren gets better rather than after #the dragon prince #the dragon prince spoilers #tdp spoilers #s5 spoilers #soren #claudia #lissa #viren #puzzle house

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helly-watermelonsmellinfellon · 2 months

Text

hi. alot is happening. bumming off wifi rn. i'm copy/pasting someone from a doc i started in libra office with no internet.

A LOT IS HAPPENING BEHIND THE SCENES AND I’M KEEPING TRACK.

The landlady has made excuses to not give us back the security deposit. She keeps having Dave’s boss call him in a foul mood will all kind of threats and accusations of things we supposedly broke/ruined.

1.) On our first night out of there she has already threatened to call the cops on us by claiming that we filled the house with perfume before we left so it’ll hurt her. What happened was we cleaned it because she demanded that it was clean like it supposedly was when we moved in(it wasn’t clean when we moved in). We used that Meyers shit, which has a pretty muted scent and is supposed to be safe for the environment. And it was just basic sweeping, dusting, and then doing up the ktichen and bathroom just to be safe.

2.) Today she has claimed that we filled the washing machine with motor oil to ruin it as punishment before we left. She swears the whole house smells of oil, after screaming about it smelling like too much perfume that was supposedly used to hurt her breathing. Mind you, mom is an asthmatic so we can’t use things with strong scents because it will fuck her up. If we bought oil, it would be for the van cuz that shit is expensive and we wouldn’t be wasting it on HER of all people.

By now, Dave’s boss is aware that she cannot legally withold the deposit and that she’s trying to use the fact that Dave is a dumbass, against him. Mom however, knows the laws, and the lease said nothing about not using scented cleaners OR perfumes, and she does not have a legit reason to not give us the $1600 back. If she took it to court it would not hold. She has to make an itemized list of her claims, Dave has to acknowledge whether or not they are true, and then it goes to court.

fyi I took videos of everything in the house. Bethy’s Room, Mom’s Room, Bathroom, Living Room, Dining Room, Kitchen. All items that were hers, such as the Oven, Fridge, Washer, Dryer, Toilet, Sinks,Tub/Shower, random Recycle Bin, and Wall Hangings. Inside and Out. All details were recorded before we left. I even recorded us leaving at exactly 11:23 PM Feb 15th 2024, and recorded turning the light off.

Let’s see if she comes up with something else tomorrow. ~5:22 PM Feb, 17th 2024

3.)

Feb, 21st 2024:

I’ve just been informed by Bethy that Dave has gone on to further embarrass us. He insists that he’s got all these racing friends(and tbf they promised to help fund a big event to raise money for us 2 years ago, and then ghosted him AND Bethy when they asked what they had to do to help) who will help and has been harassing them for money.

One of them, an active dirt racer, posted a screenshot with Dave’s full name in a text convo begging for cash. And then half a dozen other dirt racers, active and retired, shared that he’s been hitting them up for money too. How he was in people’s posts about random shit beggn for money and then how he got swindled under his own comment by someone mocking him and posting the same thing he did with a small wording change about leaving an abusive house and Dave not only fell for it but then said he’d try to help them.

And now the greater dirt racing community is aware of this and are mocking him and us and some are making inquiries about Bethy’s well-being in connection to Dave. And their wives are having things to say about how he’s a bad parent and she should be taken away from him.

And I need to remind everyone that this is to pay off a blackmailer who is demanding $300 a week now. Bethy got a bit more info out of him on that and it apparently involves a photo. And there are only 2 types of photos that can get him in legal trouble(since he believes he CAN go to jail over this). So either he sent an unsolicited dick pic, which won’t receive much punishment cuz he’s a man who LOOKS white enough. OR it’s child p0rn, and he’s never given that vibe out of everything fucked up with him so I’m not exactly sure.

But he walks around demanding to know ‘did anyone give us money yet’ and people have donated to the GFM and Mealtrain, and I’ve earned about $100 on Ko-Fi recently, and we haven’t told him cuz he won’t use it for anything good.

He’s been bumming extra money off his boss despite knowing that the van need fixing, we need hot water and heat, and several other problems that need fixing ASAP. And his boss is asking questions and is getting nastier and nastier cuz he doesn’t trust Dave’s intentions and shitty lying.

There is no lease. The owner of this house knows Dave's boss and they supposedly came to an agreement that so long as Dave fixes up this house, we can stay here in the mean time for free. They supposedly made an agreement that Dave's boss will buy everything we need to fix the house up and then send all the receipts to the friend who will then pay him back.

And now Dave's boss is getting so fed up with Dave and his wishy-washy behavior and begging for all this money all the time that he does not earn, that he is now saying he never made any such promises. And he refuses to contact the owner of this house at all. There is no recording. No contract. No signatures. No proof that such a discussion went down at all. It is Dave’s word(unreliable) against the boss’(the one with money and power here) word.

Dave has no way to contact the owner either. Cuz he didn’t think that was necessary apparently. He was perfectly fine making his boss the go-between until his boss got angry.

So our ability to even stay here is hanging in the balance.

Can’t wait to see what other bad news I’m gonna find out.

#poverty

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